Palestine Always.

I secretly journey in the night. Palestinian. 22. New York.
“Allah is the Protector of those who believe. He brings them out from Darkness into Light.”
“I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2 a.m., am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don’t belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn’t happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don’t see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.”

اللهم توفنى و انت راض عنى

Allahumma tawafanee wa anta radhin ‘anee.

ya Allah, cause me to die in such a state that You are pleased with me.

(Source: khadlja, via hayati-ana-aries)

nadirkeval said: haha definitely! And it’s my pleasure :) I’ll keep you in my dua, insha Allah.

Jazak Allah kheir, and I will include you in mine in sha’ Allah :)

I think a huge mistake we make is not allowing ourselves to feel. Whenever I’m driving in my car and a memory pops into my head that forms a lump in my throat my first instinct is to immediately shut it away. But I try to force myself to feel it, the loss. I let myself cry and slam my fists into the steering wheel because I know my mind needs my body. Sometimes the spaces in our head aren’t big enough for the pain we feel and it’s our bodies job to set it free.

Jenna Anne. (via escapetosunsets)

(via sawsss)

nadirkeval said: I feel ya. Trust me, you’re not alone. May Allah grant people like us a remedy to this dilemma. Ameen :)

Ameen, and thank you for the kind comment. Gotta persevere eh.

Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.

Henry Rollins (via psychedelic-orgasm)

(via katiadejavu209)

I learned that the world didn’t see the inside of you, that it didn’t care a whit about the hopes and dreams, and sorrows, that lay masked by skin and bone. It was as simple, as absurd, and as cruel as that.

Khaled Hosseini, And the Mountains Echoed (via aestheticintrovert)

(via thisbattleofmine)

You shouldn’t have to compete
for anyone’s love;
it is not a prize
for looking right,
or thinking right,
or speaking right;
you shouldn’t have to earn
anyone’s love
by changing who you are.

That isn’t love
that is sacrifice.

m.v., Lessons in self-love, #2. (via findingwordsforthoughts)

(via thisbattleofmine)

theveganmothership:

The foam suffocates 15,000 chickens in 15 minutes. It’s an American invention by Kifco, a manufacturer of irrigation equipment in Illinois. Note the humans in white suits standing in the window like strange aliens in a sci-fi horror movie. This is a “free range” farm, because they are not in individual cages, so the FDA allows the packaging of their dead flesh to be sold as “free range.” happy chickens, humane farming - feel good about your purchase packaging for unconscious consumers of animals.
As we all know, suffocating is painful, but carbon dioxide in high concentrations is also aversive. It converts to carbonic acid, burning mucous membranes. Feeling as though their throats and nasal passages are on fire, birds killed by in-barn gassing gasp, shake their heads, stretch their necks in an attempt to breathe and convulse so violently that they fracture their wings and legs.
 http://tinyurl.com/ouc7ksr

theveganmothership:

The foam suffocates 15,000 chickens in 15 minutes. It’s an American invention by Kifco, a manufacturer of irrigation equipment in Illinois. Note the humans in white suits standing in the window like strange aliens in a sci-fi horror movie. This is a “free range” farm, because they are not in individual cages, so the FDA allows the packaging of their dead flesh to be sold as “free range.” happy chickens, humane farming - feel good about your purchase packaging for unconscious consumers of animals.

As we all know, suffocating is painful, but carbon dioxide in high concentrations is also aversive. It converts to carbonic acid, burning mucous membranes. Feeling as though their throats and nasal passages are on fire, birds killed by in-barn gassing gasp, shake their heads, stretch their necks in an attempt to breathe and convulse so violently that they fracture their wings and legs.

 http://tinyurl.com/ouc7ksr

(via se-ren-d-ipi-ty)

You’ve left yourself behind so many times; it’s why you never know who you really are.


The Taste of Tea 
 (茶の味, Cha no Aji), 2004, dir. Katsuhito Ishii.

(Source: sopadepo, via themonsooonchild)