Alana Zian
Bio
Am an introverted poet
Stories (21)
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Lonely. Top Story - August 2022.
You and I were alone together Eyes cast on the beggarly riches That graced with fairy tales Though like a virgin hearing marriage Rooted comfortable misery You cheerful pessimist Am hoping that you were deceptively honest The deafening silence that crowded your room Mightier than the heavenly choir Brought me crash landing down Begging on my knees Heels on stone To stop your cruel kindness Sometimes I heard your dull soar Screaming bittersweet through every pore Yet like a devout atheist You handed me in though like a historical present I loved you, I swear I loved you. Love is a syndrome Shallow it goes with each seep Deep down my bone marrow Narrow enough thin though an arrow Settling down a peaceful conquest
By Alana Zian3 years ago in Poets
BEAUTIFUL CONFESSIONS
Life has a way of surprising us and it is often when we least expect it. Sometimes surprises are good and other times completely annoying but regardless, we learn from them and continue living life. Secrets on the other hand, I have come to believe are like sister cousins of surprises, they do not differ much. Of course they are not completely the same. While most of us like be surprised especially in a good way, many still feel uncomfortable about having secrets because overtime, we have learned to associate them with bad. But I guess secrets can be fun too. Ashley and Nicole were best friends since first grade. They were both blondes, history buffs, painted their nails red and liked a good Taylor Swift song. They told each other everything including those crazy teenage dreams and of course even the boy stuff. To strangers, Ashley and Nicole were twins and actually they liked using that to their advantage. Many girls envied their friendship because you know, it looked picture perfect. But behind the curtains, there was a lot going on, some ugly things. One spring evening, as fate would have it, Ashley walked on her parents having a heated conversation. It was one of those discussions where you didn’t have to sit too long to know what was going on. Her parents were separating. It seemed like their marriage had reached an expiry date and nothing could save it. It was after her father moving out that Ashley got the whole picture of the situation. Her father had been cheating on her mother with his secretary. Both Martha and Ashley had been completely taken by surprise, Jack had always looked faithful. The weeks following the divorce were the hardest. Living each day was like death by a thousand paper cuts. Nicole became the shoulder Ashley needed to cry on, she had been there. Nicole had probably witnessed the worst divorce in history, that of her parents. Her mother had been using drugs secretly only to result in her being violent. It’s kind of funny because she always looked sober. When she turned psycho, Richard filed for divorce because he had had enough. She had not been willing to straighten up things at all. After their divorces, Martha and Richard each promised their children that they never remarry, that there was no point. But Ashley and Nicole did not buy what their parents were selling them. To them, Martha and Richard were scared of falling in love again for fear of being scarred. They both deserved happiness because they were good people and truth be told they looked perfect for each other. So, Ashley and Nicole decided to set up their parents so that by the next time Mother’s day comes around, they’re married. But that was easy said than done. Both parents were stubborn and not easy to convince but they had one thing in common, the gift of the gab. So what the girls did was to invite their parents to participate in the Parents Drama Club(PDC), a part of the History Club. Here, they were luckily given a play in which to feature. It was Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare. As for every play, one has to practice over and over to master their part so Martha and Richard were not exempted. With each passing day, they got aquainted with one another and sparks started flying. On the final day, they were able to give the audience a good performance because of the chemistry that had developed between them. Even after the play, they did not stop meeting. Often times they visited each other’s homes for dinner and even planned joint family vacations together. Their was obviously some romance boiling and it is all thanks to Ashley and Nicole. After months and months of seeing each other, Richard decided to pop the question. Next were wedding preparations and come Mother’s day, Richard married Martha in the presence of their families. Ash and Cole were the most excited because they were finally becoming sisters. It was during the wedding that Ashley and Nicole unveiled the big secret, that it’s them that had played match maker. Everyone at the wedding was surprised more so Richard and Martha but they could not have it any other way. And that is how they lived a happily ever after.
By Alana Zian4 years ago in Confessions
Mother, I have things haunting me
Dear Mother, Am just hoping you can hear me. That the singing of the angels is not so loud to block out what I am trying to say to you. You know I have always wanted to ask you, “how does it feel to be in heaven?”. But every time I try, I choke on my words. Maybe it is a sign am not supposed to ask about that side of things. It has been two decades now since your death in that car accident. At that time, I was still a new born baby, just having entered this world, completely clueless of what was in store for me. Your death was like a strike of lighting, it came without notice. It was a storm in a dark night and left many of us paralyzed up to this very moment. You did not get the chance to hug me or take me for long walks along the beach. And for the times I dreamt that there were monsters under my bed, I woke up screaming alone for I had believed it is only mothers who saved their children from such bad dreams. Lately, my mind has been playing tricks on me, wanting me to believe that I have seen you somewhere in the mall, grocery store or on the train. But I guess that is how my body is still trying to cope with the grief even after all these years. Because how can I start seeing ghosts of you when the only things you left me with were pictures of you. I don’t know why but I still tell everyone the legend of how you disappeared, maybe to calm my nerves a bit. Mother, those years of when I was just a baby are long gone, am now a big boy. Am studying college and very soon I will be graduating with a degree in French literature but I know, just like everyone else that you won’t be around to congratulate me upon finishing college. That’s ok because I completely understand everything. Mama, this is probably like the seventeenth letter am writing to you. I have been doing this since I was three. It has always been a secret ritual of mine, one I can’t do without. It makes May one of my best months, better than December. I remember the first letter I wrote to you, father said that we would have to wait for the doves to come pick it and bring to heaven. But now I know, that there is no such a thing, it was all some sort fairytale. Am not complaining. Today’s letter I should say is a little bit special, because for the first time, I am writing from my heart and it freaks me out. For the record, I have never been an open book. I have always kept to myself which is not surprising because I was told you were exactly like me, introverted. I want to let you in on a secret but promise me you won’t cringe. Call it a sad beautiful confession, I heard everybody has one. Mine has been buried so deep, like a pirate’s treasure, never having seen the light of day. You very well know you are among the few people that I trust. So, where do I begin? Okay I hope this doesn’t sound awful but mum, I am gay. I like men and I have known this about myself for quite some time now. I have been exploring what it means. It has taught me to be patient and love myself unconditionally because where I live now, it’s sort of like a big crime being gay, you’re are either straight or straight. I haven’t even told father about it because I don’t know how he will take it. Being gay is hard but being a black gay man is even harder. I haven’t seen any stronger widowers like father. Telling him may turn his whole world upside down. I don’t want that. When I first realized around age ten that I had these feelings for other boys, I would cry myself to sleep, begging God to take away that part of me. Every Sunday, I would debate whether to go to church or not as I believed God did not want me there. At school, it became harder for me to focus as the bullies were always on my back calling me all sorts of names. I almost dropped out of high school because it had occurred to me that that was not a space for people like us. Nowadays, I do not pray to God to make me straight, I pray for his blessings and protection and I think he has answered some of my prayers. Last summer, I think I met the lover of my life, Rio. It was actually bizarre because it happened on the internet, of all places. On our first date, I was nervous and even had plans of sabotaging any future meetings with him but I later realized that was me in anxious mode. Rio is sweet, kind, lovely, handsome and above all God fearing. He is the man of my dreams and some day I hope to marry him. It’s crazy but I have always envisioned being a father, having my small family to travel the world with. I think Rio will also make a good father. On the other hand, part of me is worried, like pretty badly. How do I face the people I love, to tell them I have been living a lie all my life. How do I explain to them that I haven’t been my authentic self for over ten years. Won’t some of my friends and family run away after hearing about my little secret? It is some of those fears that have kept me long in the closet. It’s times like this that I wish you were here, to tell me that it is all well that ends well. Mother, I need you. Am just hoping you can hear me.
By Alana Zian4 years ago in Confessions
Pop Culture And Its Impact On Our Lives
Now that the Covid-19 pandemic is almost over, many of us are returning to our old normal, that is pre-2019. At least am convinced most countries are not in lockdown anymore which means the nuts that had been tightened on certain things are now being loosened and this includes live music festivals, world tours and award shows. During the past three years, many musical acts and bands have been putting out their music but as we all know, it has not been easy because of the unstable economy. Sales have not been so impressive and even for some die-hard music lovers like myself, I could not risk buying a ticket, first because my pockets could not allow me and second, all hopes of attending were getting minimal day by day as the pandemic progressed. It is therefore only artists with thick skin that risked releasing new music. In the early months of the pandemic, I personally drowned myself in five albums that is Lover, After Hours, Future Nostalgia, Folklore and Evermore. It was a wild ride trust me, playing songs on repeat to quiet my thoughts. In the other half of pandemic and recently I have been much into Lil Nas X’s Montero, Drake’s Certified Lover Boy, Adele’s 30, Olivia Rodrigo’s Sour and Taylor Swift’s two iconic re-recorded albums Fearless and Red. As you might have noticed, I listen a lot to female music even if I identify as male and I see no problem with that, it’s perfectly normal. I think women are good at using emotion in a song to put across whatever they want and I believe that’s why many of us are drawn to tracks like Easy on me, Driver’s license, Cardigan, Blank Space, Willow, Hello and many more. Another thing you might not know is that I’m a black man listening mostly to what someone might deem “white music” because people believe if you’re black, you only have to listen to music by Beyonce, Rihanna, Alicia keys, Nicki Minaj, Kanye West or Lil Nas X which I do. I believe there is no correct pattern or formula of listening to music. Sometimes you find yourself listening to what’s popular at the moment and other times you’re tired of a certain genre and you want to mix things up, maybe listen to another one. But often times, there are those songs that make meaning to us or make us feel a certain way in regards to what we are going through in life. And this brings me to today’s topic of what pop culture is teaching us about music, celebrities and fame. Growing up in the 21st century might have been the coolest thing to happen to many of us who believe we’re the Generation Z. Being born in what we call the digital age has many benefits, talk of the internet, social media, streaming platforms, Amazon, eBay and now Bitcoin which can be all accessed with a click of button. But what happens when all this that is availed to us is misused or used excessively or ignorantly? I would say the answer is trouble. Let’s use an example of a timid fourteen-year-old teenager girl with low self-esteem and an out of place fashion style who logs into Facebook or rather Meta for the first time. What do they see? I guess heaven, because of the perfectly curated ads, who to follow(I mean celebrities whether actors, actresses or musicians) and what to subscribe to. And this is where her journey of self doubt starts because she is looking at this sort of Utopian world that is seen by many but only entered by a few. For long pop culture has set the standards of what is considered beautiful. I guess you do not need to be tall, have blonder hair, white skin, a straight chin, a dog or cat face to be called or rather feel beautiful. Beauty is not reserved for only a certain race. Black, Asian and Latino people can all be beautiful. They are many ways of being beautiful but it starts from inside. It starts by knowing yourself and being comfortable in your own skin. If it feels hard being yourself sometimes then imagine how harder it would being someone else. Sometimes you will wake up and you don’t want to put on mascara, lipstick or gloss and it’s okay even if Kylie Jenner has hers on. There is thing called fanbases and most of us love them. They are everywhere from Twitter, TikTok, Instagram, Reddit, Tumblr, Discord and even shockingly on Wattpad. We have the Swifties, Arianators, Selenators, Barbz, Lovatics, Beliebers and so many more. Personally, I am a Swiftie and I love that I can be a part of a larger community that is passionate about Taylor Swift’s music especially new releases. In each of these fanbases, there is that vast energy that encompasses everyone and creates unity and passion which many times has driven albums to number 1 on Billboard, iTunes or Spotify which is good because it means maybe the album has been bought or streamed multiple times and therefore more money for that artist. But let’s flip the coin and talk about what other things that happen in these communities. Sometimes the good energy becomes toxic energy and instead supporting their favorite artist, the fans start attacking other fanbases and causing chaos especially on Twitter. Sometimes these wrangles are about who has sold more units or had the best selling album or who has a better voice, name it. In the end, the whole goal of the fanbases loses meaning and instead music is used like a weapon. It is like pop culture has taught us that extreme competitiveness is now the other new normal besides the Covid-19 pandemic. It is absolutely okay to support your favorite musician but remember you also have a life of your own. You do not have to buy everything the artist puts out to prove that you love what they do. Let’s us enjoy the music responsibly. And lastly, let’s talk about fame. Most people I know who use social media at least have dreamed of getting famous even if it’s just because of their online presence. In 2022, fame is like a new currency or even a gate pass to heaven and many teenagers and youth are willing to do anything to achieve it and that’s why we see celebrities like gods and goddesses. We believe these are perfect beings but we forget they are still human, made of fresh and bone. That’s why some of us spend countless hours gossiping about the houses they live in, the cars they drive and vacations they go. In the end we deny ourselves the opportunity to be present and live purposely. It's time we realize the impact pop culture is having on our lives before we become its slaves.
By Alana Zian4 years ago in Motivation
The Changing Definition Of Freedom
The past three years I must say have been unprecedented, challenging times of great uncertainty, fear of the unknown, fever pitch anxiousness and loneliness. They say the earth is always spinning on its axis but somewhere in between these three years, it felt like it had stopped or rather reached a destination.
By Alana Zian4 years ago in Education
Maybe it was really never meant to be or it wasn't for me
“Life has ways of surprising us”, that’s what I always say to myself whenever I see a happy couple walking with their children across the street. I say that not because am jealous of them or anything, it’s just a way of reminding myself of the life I had dreamed of since I was a little girl in kindergarten but did not get. You see I was born in a very big traditional extended family and by default I knew that one day when I grow up, I would want a family though it didn’t have to be big and extended considering the times we’re living in. With that in mind, I always prayed to every night before sleeping that I would find a man who would sweep me off my feet. Mark you, I was still young by the time I started this practise of praying to after all, that’s how most children are brought up. Luckily for me, I was a bright kid from the word go so my early school years kind of passed away so fast without me even noticing. My troubles and worries would later start in high school. I was still the same blonde girl with glasses who scored straight A's in every subject except that I hadn’t found a boyfriend or to be frank, no boy had showed any interest in me. That really worried me every now and I started feeling like I was not enough infront of my friends, who for your own information were all coupled. Every summer holiday,the only time I saw my parents, I would complain to them on how the boys hadn’t approached me and their reply was always, “the right one for you is on the way”. This made me sort of doubt the prayer I had always recited since I was young. “Am I praying the wrong way?”, I asked myself this question on many occasions. Most of my friends had it all,the boyfriend stuff and this made me wonder what they ate that I was not eating. Despite my anger at God, I did not get a boyfriend any sooner and that’s how I graduated high school still single. Okay, that felt like a slap in the face for sometime but realizing that I still had college and a whole life ahead of me kind of eased the pain. But a few weeks to the start of college, the worries came back again full force like an angry storm. I was joining medical school and I had heard the stories where everyone there was as busy as a bee including the boys. I assumed that if highschool was purgatory, college was going to hell, I could not stand any chance. In college,some things sort of changed. I made some new friends as many of the old ones had moved to different states. My straight blonde hair had become curly, something I hated and my sight had also worsened but one thing never changed, my grades. I was still a top achiever despite the fact that medical school was no holy ground. I had finally convinced myself that I did not need a boyfriend to feel complete. Hanging out with friends was enough to make me go through some of those hectic weeks. And then one day, it happened, the thing I had always prayed for. Actually Mark and I first met at the farmer’s market, of all places. He had not stopped looking at me throughout the whole time I was shopping. It was there that I first had those butterflies in the stomach feelings that my friends had always described. We hit it off from there and every moment after that day made me feel like Alice in wonderland. Mark was charming, intelligent and full of humor. He even liked this curly hair that I hated about myself. I was in love and it felt crazy, in a good way. It was like this was the last miracle Jesus had forgotten to perform. As our love for one another grew, I learned that this was probably not Mark’s first relationship although on my part, it was but that did not bother me, I knew deep down that he loved me. As they say, “time flies so fast for lovers” and before we knew it, we were both graduating college. This next chapter of my life felt so exciting. I was going to get the careeer I had always dreamed of but above all, I was going to share it with the person I loved most. We had both agreed on getting married after school because that’s when it would feel right. We visited each other’s families, made plans about the wedding and next thing we knew, we were on the altar on a sunny summer afternoon somewhere in Southern California surrounded by friends and family. This was indeed a dream come true. A year later,we bought a house in the pinnacle, the Woods and the forest in Coto de Caza, Orange County and I gave birth to our first son, Michael. He was a happy child, always full energy just like an angel. At the same time, Mark got a big promotion at work which was also good news. Our family had started growing slowly by slowly and it was the envy of many people. In our second year of marriage, things started changing, Mark seemed to be spending a lot of time at work even working overnight yet Michael and I needed him. It seems the promotion had come with strings attached. It was now that I discovered his porn and alcohol addiction and we immediately visited a therapist. During his therapy sessions, I realized he was overly stressed and this made worry to the bone. Meanwhile, our second child, Catrina came along and it was another blessing. Michael now had a baby sister. After my second birth, Mark talked to me about sterilization saying Michael and Catrina were enough to complete our family to which I agreed considering I had a beautiful career and did not want to become a stay-at-home mother. A few days after my operation, all hell broke loose when we received news that our children had some sort of degenerative disease. This personally turned my world upside down but I did not leave any room for my faith to wither. This chapter of our lives now included spending many hours in the hospital in addition to paying huge bills. In the middle of all this drama however something happened and it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I found out that Mark had been cheating on me all this time with his personal secretary. This all felt like a war and that I was being attacked from all sides. But one thing was for sure, I was not going to give up on my kids even if someone I had trusted with my heart had already broken it. In the weeks that followed, I watched my kids' health detoriate so fast despite the doctors trying every medication. But I knew the truth, most degenerative diseases had no cure. Eventually one day, God decided to call Michael and Catrina into heaven. After their burial, what followed was some sort of messy divorce which almost drove me mad. I was too angry knowing no amount of property was going to make me a mother again. It was official, I would never be able to give birth again. After the divorce, Mark moved to New York City with his personal secretary and started a new life. My life became miserable as I returned back to my previous single lifestyle wondering if I was the cursed child of my family.
By Alana Zian4 years ago in Confessions
