Salams. Peace. Hey, stalkers. Let me tell you a little info about myself. Im an English student. Love writing poetry, so I'm a Poet. But I prefer to write my poetry in my journal. I have this other creative side to me; I'm a henna artist. And I'm a babysitter.
I ordered my henna cones. It should come tomorrow inshaa Allah can’t wait.
I’ve realised (time = money) when in doing henna 😳
This henna business is stressful now. 😩
People don’t want to pay much for their Eid henna esp Asians omg I got bumped last year, neverrrr that again inshaa Allah.
Okay all I need sorting out is the price and I got that fixed now.
Adults I’ll charge £5 per hand. And children half the price. 😊
Plus I have eczema n I’m anaemic so I’ll probably pass out if I do so much work and get less money whilst I’m fasting. So yeah all sorted. ❤️
This is so important!
I never know what to ask and end up looking like a fool cause I don’t have a question prepared.
Don’t be me.
The Good Vibe - Inspirational Picture Quotes
كيف أحزن ولله ربي ؟How can I be sad if Allah is my Lord? (via iqranazir)Paradise
#israel #Palestine #war crimes #bombs
Please don’t, above all, plant me in your heart. I grow too quick.Rainer Maria Rilke, Sonnets To Orpheus (via creatingaquietmind)why (all caps)
Li Lightfoot ~ Spectra Excognito
They call us now.
Before they drop the bombs.
The phone rings
and someone who knows my first name
calls and says in perfect Arabic
“This is David.”
And in my stupor of sonic booms and glass shattering symphonies
still smashing around in my head
I think “Do I know any Davids in Gaza?”
They call us now to say
You have 58 seconds from the end of this message.
Your house is next.
They think of it as some kind of war time courtesy.
It doesn’t matter that
there is nowhere to run to.
It means nothing that the borders are closed
and your papers are worthless
and mark you only for a life sentence
in this prison by the sea
and the alleyways are narrow
and there are more human lives
packed one against the other
more than any other place on earth
We aren’t trying to kill you.
It doesn’t matter that
you can’t call us back to tell us
the people we claim to want aren’t in your house
that there’s no one here
except you and your children
who were cheering for Argentina
sharing the last loaf of bread for this week
counting candles left in case the power goes out.
It doesn’t matter that you have children.
You live in the wrong place
and now is your chance to run
It doesn’t matter
that 58 seconds isn’t long enough
to find your wedding album
or your son’s favorite blanket
or your daughter’s almost completed college application
or your shoes
or to gather everyone in the house.
It doesn’t matter what you had planned.
It doesn’t matter who you are
Prove you’re human.
Prove you stand on two legs.
Running Orders by Lena Khalaf Tuffaha