Revival.
2:52am, 31st March The last time I was on here life looked very different. The cynicism I wore like armor is no longer a weight I'm familiar with. The grief of existence is no longer as heavy a burden. Not much has changed, but everything has. Nearly six months ago, I wrote about turning 23. The travesty of being, the uncertainty that comes with moving from one era in life to another. I wrote because I was bitter and confused. Frustrated even, about the direction my life was taking, completely unaware that everything would change a day later. Every Ramadan since Ramadan of 2020 has looked violently different from those before. I spent so much time studying the deen in 2020 that I may have overdone it. In 2021, I experienced the longest after-effects of grief. 2022 and 2023 are a blur of supplications I don't remember making and lots of reading. This Ramadan feels peaceful, in a way that befuddles me. I don't think I'm at a place of spiritual ease, but I no longer...