Before anyone can say anything, I'm depressed because of an issue. I'm not back into a depression, I promise. It's just my Ethnic Studies class tend to make me a bit sad to see how we see each other or how we act to one another. Currently in the class we're focusing on White Racism which is completely opposite of what people think. It's not the hate of Whites, but how Whites are completely unaware of their status, and what they gain for just being "White".

One article stated that they weren't trying to make "Whites" to feel guilty about the situation that our society has created, but I couldn't help but feel guilty. I wasn't aware at all of what was really happening. I knew it was there but I never knew anything deeper than what was spoon fed me through society. And sometimes when I read the articles, it feels like there will never be a true understanding of each other, and that we'll always be racist in some way.

Though the class has taught me a lot, I've even shifted my behavior slightly to incorporate what I've learned from the class. Especially dealing with categorizing people in my mind. I'll admit when I first see someone I almost instantly define what race someone is because that's how society has wired our brains, according to my professor, but it doesn't mean that I do it in a negative way. It's just an instant thought that appears when I (or someone) takes in another person's appearance.

But anyway, getting away from my little rant. One of the articles interviewed five white woman their childhood to see if geographic positioning affects how people think about "race." They really narrowed down on how each woman reacted to the exposure of people of color. With each story it made me think about my own childhood, I remember moving a lot since my dad was in the military. The beginning of my years was living with my grandparents and other family from my dad's side, along with my mom. But the first friend that I can ever remember was Sarah who I met in North Carolina. She was an African-American who always seemed to have a big, toothy grin on her face. Her eyes were wide, and her dark hair pulled into a bunch of little braids with bright pink bow shape clips at the ends to hold each braid. It's been years since I've last thought about her, but I'm surprised that I still do. And then when I moved out into Arizona, one of my first friends and closest friends still today after 11 years was Eric. He was not "white" either, rather he was from a Mexican heritage.

I've always been exposed to being with other people of race and treated them like how I wanted to be treated, but from what the articles say, I'm in someway racists which frustrates me because I don't see that at all. Maybe I just don't like being defined in someway, I do notice the differences... but it doesn't mean that I let it stop me. For gosh sakes, I joined the BSU (Black Student Union) at my school.

Also, it feels like society discourages interracial marriage. To be honest, I most likely not going to marry someone of my color. I don't find a lot of white guys attractive but there's also the fact that international culture fascinates me. It's a reason why I want to become a cultural anthropologist. I want to study over seas and understand people, and their ways. Katie says I'm definitely going to marry some Japanese guy, but because I'm so into their culture. But back to the subject, because of this I'm pretty much breaking out of my "box". I refuse to be categorized, and follow the unwritten rules of what society wants me to be. Hear that!? I defy!

Well, that is the end of my rant for now. I needed to get that out before I went to bed or I would have so much trouble sleeping if all this was swirling around.

I'm starting to smile. But not in a way that's good. I smile every time I see/hear his name. He who is starting to haunt my thoughts left and right. I knew it was bad, but it's gotten to worse. It's driving me insane that I feel like this, I haven't even met him personally.

I'm still feeling depressed. I mean, when I talk to Tati (and other friends) I'm fine. But then when I'm alone, or I read the past entry of my blog, it just comes rushing back. There's nothing to distract me from those thoughts, those feelings. Especially those feelings. I just get swallowed up in everything that's in turmoil in my mind.

The bad part is, I'm going to be alone this weekend. Stephanie is going to be going to Phoenix to visit Christopher, and go to a few parties. I'm going to be left alone with all this still swirling in my mind, and it's going to be horrible.

Drawing usually can keep myself in check since art is the artist's emotions on paper. Every stroke of a pencil, brush or any utensil to make something, the artist is pouring their feelings into it. It's why one of the reasons when I'm so over emotional I draw to let it flow out of me.

But I've finally started to draw him.

I've been practicing on my realistic technique with people, and almost unconsciously I pulled up one of my favorite pictures of him, and started to draw him. And drawing a person from a reference is bad, well, in this situation. Because I'm noticing every single detail about him. The shape of his eyes, his jawline, hands, how exactly his hair is styles... every single detail! Even when drawing I found myself thinking; "I really like his eyes." And I find that I really, really like his eyes.

I swear, I'm going to go crazy. Even though, I just finished talking to Tatiana through IM and she tells me to cheer up, I feel like I can't. And I haven't told her about drawing him yet, I as just reminded when I accidently picked up my sketchbook instead of my notebook.

I just feel like screaming, and keep screaming until I pass out from lack of oxygen.