Without deep conversation, my mind becomes restless. I need passion and intellect, it’s a shame that a person often lacks one or the other.
— (via closedforprayer)
Not shaving may be one of the best decisions of my life.
I’ve always had leg hair, since around 3rd grade and looooong before any boys in my elementary school could even dream about growing their own.
I was always made fun of, made to feel ugly, told I was “manly”. I started shaving when I was 9 years old, I was waxing by the age of 11 and my entire childhood/teenage years was filled with fear that I wouldn’t be attractive because of my hairs.
Now that I’m older I’m starting to realize how unfair it is that I had to grow up that way. My hair on my head is praised for being so long and beautiful, but my body hair is seen as “disgusting”. Why? They both grow out of my skin.
I’m really happy that I’m starting to realize that my existence isn’t based on whether other people like my body. I love my body. If someone doesn’t like my body then they don’t have to associate themselves with me, I know that I’m not missing out on any meaningful relationships since someone who truly likes me for who I am would like all of me, especially my natural self. (:
I came to a point where I needed solitude and just stop the machine of thinking and enjoying what they call living, I just wanted to lie in the grass and look at the clouds.
I rise from my worst disasters, I turn, I change.
ألبير كامو يقول:
يبدأ التمرد مع عدم الرغبة في تحمل ظلم الظالم.
وأنا -الفقيرة إلى الله- أقول لكم:
ابحثوا عن الرفض الصامت في داخلكم، فإن وجودتموه فأعلموا -أحسن الله إرشادكم- أن الله قد اصطفاكم. لا تنسوا إلتزامكم الاستنكاري تجاه كل منغصات الحياة هنا.
Sometimes I spend half the night
answering the emptiness, hoping it is you. Memory is just
another form of imagination. Now the glasses are empty.
A future flies into the rafters. Daylight leaks into my dream.
Eventually I may have to write a love poem to myself
— Richard Jackson, from “Having a Drink with the Gods,” Heartwall (University of Massachusetts Press, 2000)
A handwritten note, scrawled in Arabic on a torn cigarette pack, was discovered on the ground last week in Pozzallo as migrants filed off a ship. It was from someone initialed “A” to someone else initialed “R.”
“I wanted to be with you,” read the note. “Don’t you dare forget me. I love you very much. My wish is for you not to forget me. Be well my love. A loves R. I love you.”
كلمات عربية مكتوبة بخط اليد على غلاف علبة سجائر ممزقة عُثر عليها بعد إنقاذ مركب لمهاجريين غير شرعيين لإيطاليا من أ لـ ر
The New York Times | T.B : Lynsey Addario
woman committed suicide by shooting herself in the heart 4 times