1. This is how you lose her.

    You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.

    You must remember when she forgets.

    You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.

    She remembers when you forget.

    You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.

    You must learn her.

    You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.

    You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.

    And, this is how you keep her.

    Junot Diaz, This is How You Lose Her (via golden-notes)
    Reblogged from: golden-notes
  2. nexistepas:

Mogadishu|1984
Ferdinand Scianna

    nexistepas:

    Mogadishu|1984

    Ferdinand Scianna

    Reblogged from: nolanna-deactivated20140724
  3. nexistepas:

Mogadishu|1984
Ferdinand Scianna

    nexistepas:

    Mogadishu|1984

    Ferdinand Scianna

    Reblogged from: nolanna-deactivated20140724
  4. the ring finger is a symbol of love and marriage. it is usually kept empty until a ring is placed there by a partner to show a bond and everlasting love. this is why I chose this finger to place the word “mine” 5 months ago today. to show this bond and everlasting love I share with myself. I am my own lover first. my own partner first. I am my own first. I am mine. and I am in love.

    Reblogged from: planetfaraway
  5. It takes 45 steps to walk from that place on the street where you always park your car, to the front door of your apartment building.
    Every step,
    from the moment I got out of your car, to the moment I stepped into your first floor apartment I willed myself to turn around, to run, to tell you to take me home.
    Every step, a voice whispered, good girls don’t hang out alone with boys in apartments.
    But my body didn’t listen.
    When we got in, you flicked the lights on and asked me to wait by the door while you tidied your room.
    I counted the seconds until you came back.
    335 Mississippis
    335 times I told myself to leave,
    335 times a voice said,
    good girls don’t sit on boy’s beds.
    You asked me to take off my jacket,
    I said “No”.
    You proceeded to ask 13 more times.
    Each time I told myself, that if you could not see how
    uncomfortable I was, it was a bad sign.
    Each time a voice whispered,
    good girls don’t take off their clothes for begging boys .
    I counted 4 hours until I couldn’t sit still anymore,
    4 hours until my skin was crawling and the texture inside my mouth changed.
    It took 4 hours for the walls to close in on me.
    4 hours,
    45 steps,
    335 seconds waiting,
    13 “please take off your jackets”
    5 attempts at kissing me.
    27 “No thank yous”
    15 “Lets just sit here and watch tvs”
    6 escapes to the bathroom.
    100 how did I end up heres.
    116 I should have listened to myselfs.
    7 self shaming thoughts.
    Until I finally got up and said
    “it’s getting late, I think it’s time to go home”
    1 night to learn that my own intuition
    is the best compass I own.
    Key Ballah, Gut Counts
    Reblogged from: sweetbloodsomalia
  6. Reblogged from: soulmahogany
  7. Reblogged from: augustalsinagifs
  8. I just want someone who won’t get annoyed when I text them six times or in all caps. Someone I can go on long drives with and can sing along to the radio with. Someone I can eat pizza with at 2am and kiss at 6pm. Someone who chooses me everyday and never thinks twice about it.
    Reblogged from: sweetbloodsomalia
  9. Reblogged from: sweetbloodsomalia
  10. Came across this song while writing this god awful paper for my International Studies course and it brightened my day. Reminds me so much of my mom during her phD program when I was a kid.

    I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
    Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
    Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
    And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

    Dance….I hope you dance.
    I hope you dance….I hope you dance.

    -Lee Ann Womack: I Hope you Dance-

Next

MUSINGS OF A NOMAD

Paper theme built by Thomas