In honor of luuuuvvvv, Scorpio season, Venus in retrograde, and the all-consuming, almost haunting feeling love can leave you with @ 2am, I give you all #blackheartemoji.
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Stranger Things

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Sweet Seals For You, Always

Love Begins
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

JBB: An Artblog!

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Misplaced Lens Cap
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if i look back, i am lost

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@wisdomloverevolution
In honor of luuuuvvvv, Scorpio season, Venus in retrograde, and the all-consuming, almost haunting feeling love can leave you with @ 2am, I give you all #blackheartemoji.

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I woke up hard
heavy
with a cement sky weighing down
the judgment of the world
upon my chest.
I was told the god of gods
spoke thunder when upset,
conjuring a warning
to not go any further
unless risk the demise
of our elusive sanctuaries
held within an illusion
of death being the finale.
Black girl goes missing.
Black femme winds up dead.
Black womxn was âtempting itâ
tantalizing the violence
with the mystery of her survival
hidden behind melanin portals
into galaxies
where she is protected
where she is love(d)
.
The sky roared
and cast down its judgement
of light upon the eyes
of all those who could ignore
the demeaning screams
of the silence(d)
Blood curdled as milk aqueducts
ran dry underneath uneven terrain
towards the parched lips
of a world that could no longer
profit off of her death.
The sky cried
as it unleashed,
shedding itâs womb
of the life that will remain unknown
and I swallowed the nourishment
until my belly
was full.
- Fatima Nasiyr
Playing around with different formats of sharing work đ
Months of passively scrolling through Soundcloud, listening to the same olâ tracks while actively being annoyed by most of the music posted is all worth it when you find that ONE track and it takes you on a magical journey of related tracks that literally takes your heart to another dimension <3 <3Â
- We are exploding stars condensed into form. - We have the power and potency of a supernova - Falling apart to come back together, making peace with what I've created of my art, my life's work--me. - I have been feeling a little blocked from creativity lately - But I can also understand how that is a illusion - How there is a period of rest, of sowing - And a period of producing, of harvesting - I am made in The Creator's image - Everything done from my spirit is art // (Ps, God is a Black Femme in my personification. A Black mother. How do you all/through what do you all connect with and experience God? )

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Shadow, My Old Friend
The saying goes that in the darkest of times, even your loyal shadow will leave you
My shadow seems to have tampered with Tinkerbellâs fairy dust
to now make it larger than life
Boisterously moving about to make itself known anew
Almost like a permanent child, throwing tantrums whenever overlooked.
You see, I can I go days when my shadow is the last on my mind
I can actually function, interact with people, laugh,
And by no means let a negative situation allow my smile to be took.
In that mind, there always comes a better day.
I never turn around to check if my shadow is behind me standing in rank.
However,
The days come where the curtains stand sewn shut,
tailored perfectly to let the darkness seep through
Where all that is left of me are unidentifiable lumps crumpled under mounds of blankets
Lying bare, empty and numb
Just waiting âŚ.for anything
Those are the days my shadow has come and tucked me into bed.
Whenever love comes in the form of family or a friend
Trying to figure out how I fell into the depths so fast
And wanting to pull me back up
My eyes burn whilst glancing at that light
My pupils and my pride too familiarized with only faint and rationed streams of it
Engulfed because of my shadowâs greed, it plays trickeries
Obscuring me from reality, my doubts and fears get the best of me
It tells me, âYou, girl, ugly, lazy, bipolar, stupid, cold, naĂŻve. Nothing better for you is out thereâ
Through isolation, my shadow morphs into something like a comfort blanket for a baby
Just as in that infantile state, I too seem to only be able to truly express myself in cries
These periods of magician acts create for me such a vivid illusion
Of being chained in fears and drowning in doubts, within a glass case of ânever good enoughâ
I become paranoid of deception all around me
Asking my âfriendsâ their motives, how and why they could care about me.
How could my existence even matterâŚ.
  I wear my shadow as a cape, feeling undeserving of any other touch
 - Fatima Nasiyr (wisdomloverevolution.tumblr.com)Â
The more you resist a situation the more you are practicing a denial. Surrender to the reality of what is being presented to you right now, bow to it and learn how to shape it by allowing yourself to be shaped by it. Be gentle, yet forceful and persevering  like water
Do you ever get those moments where you become completely aware that you, the thinking you, is just a consciousness with a body?Â
And then all of a sudden you start feeling extra big and floaty?
The Night Me and Your Mama Met
On the block//
i sleep on a mattress on the floor in the back corner of my grandparentâs home purchased off the block by my great- grandparents to give their family a stable foundation to grow upon.
a block once submerged in a sea of black faces, bandits, the color of cherry snow cones, protectors of the land they were brought to this place seeping out and spilling everywhere reclaiming an understanding of what was meant by home.
My grandfather turns on the tv static fills the air as his eyes turn grey, feasting on the news another brown body wasnât seen as a home of a soul didnât quite see the Spirit.
My protectors donât live here no more what was once a warrior tribe reduced to street turmoilâ Languish. What was once a home, cracked at the foundation by the swift abandonment of death.
- Fatima Nasiyr
Photo by Josh Farria

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my love sounds like an acoustic guitarÂ
you know
one of those with the strings slightly out of tuneÂ
you pull out of your trunk on a love drunk Tuesday eveningÂ
underneath the starsÂ
each strumÂ
the strings reverberate sending messages out into the cosmosÂ
each strumÂ
in perfect tandem with your heartÂ
 Photo x Tre'Shunn Harlan
What does freedom mean to you?
For me, I believe that freedom is only granted through discipline. The discipline ensures that you are fully responsible for your actions so that you are free to fully express yourself and have the ability-to-respond to what that expression causes.
Freedom to me feels like feeling the full force of the universe fully supporting you and propelling you forward. When you know, a bone-deep knowing, that you are capable and that you are doing it. The utmost being present and getting lost in a skilled moment, where youâve disciplined yourself enough where you know how to move and be always in light of your highest good.
Freedom is love, in being and in action. #anyxmeans
âBlack youth at an Art Museumâ
Location: Yerba Buena and Haight st. in SF
Photographer: Fatima Nasiyr
unit-eforever theoaklandmind
Throwback.
I want to get back into documentary-style photography/creating photo series :D
I wish to be vulnerable enough to help others heal. With my words, I slowly peel back layer upon layer so that you can see me, as I truly am. Share in this connectedness of vulnerability and rejoice in the beauty that God has instilled in us all.
ââŚHeart and Soulâ Najee Amaranth of The Oakland Mind theoaklandmind Photograph by Fatima Nasiyr [fatimanasiyr.com]

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
See ya after awhile social media âđżâđż Inspired by @lovely_watas to take a break to really recenter myself in a non-virtual reality. Iâm excited to see what growth this period will cause. Feel free to call or text, still very much down to connect in real life. đđ¸ (Photo from fun shoot with @pansyco) (at Yuba River)
You were intimate with someone. You shared yourself with someone. Showed parts of yourself that youâve kept hidden from most and the parts you are still learning to love. And itâs not youâre fault. It is not your fault that they turned away from the blinding light of love and intimacy. Some peopleâs eyes have never grown accustomed to such brilliance, always greeted by and kept in darkness. Itâs not your fault if they chose to leave or to never even stay. What you felt was real. It was real intimacy, and real intimacy is hard because it forces you to face yourself. It was real. Donât ever apologize for the intensity and power of your love. It is a rare, beautiful trait that transforms the lives of all that it touches and reveals itself to.
Journal entry, Fatima Nasiyr (via wisdomloverevolution)