The voices of the young deserve to be heard.

We get so scared sometimes. Afraid of all that can go wrong. All that can be lost. But in our debilitating fear, we lose focus. We see the sickness, but not the cure. The storm, but not the shelter. Yes, there are armies and Red Seas. Yes, there are flames. But remember, the sickness, the storm, the fire, the armies and the Sea, are all creations in the hands of the Sovereign. He saved Ayyoub (AS) from the sickness, Nuh (AS) from the storm, Ibrahim (AS) from the flames, and Musa (AS) from the armies and the Sea. It wasn’t that they didn’t face these hardships. They did. They were surrounded by them. But Allah kept them safe, even while in the belly of the calamity. Our focus is wrong. We fear the storm, because we don’t see the Shelter. We fear the Red Sea, because we don’t see the One who can split it in two. It is not the storm we should fear–but the distance from Shelter.

‘You’ll stay with me?’ ‘Until the very end.’

There are some people who could hear you speak a thousand words, and still not understand you. And there are others who will understand — without you even speaking a word.

She knew only of love, what she had read in books The novels on her shelf held her most prized memories She shared in their moments, both happy and sad She felt every word as though the pen which wrote them had stabbed each letter into her skin Shackling her forever to the thoughts she wished so deeply were her own She could not lay claim to her feelings, For they were written by the hand of an ex lover not known She felt only the fear and joy described on yellowing pages She was held together only by the loose binding of the oldest book She was as damaged as the warped covers of collections that had lived well past their time As each page turned, and chapter end, her life followed suit She followed a path, not meant for her Lived a out a fate, destined for another.

My favorite part is that the blog post the photo was taken from detailed this mother’s decision-making process and chose this name because her husband saw it on a road sign on the way home

“Who’s doing your surgery?”

When it comes to rekindling old flames, I’ve always been told that a relit cigarette never tastes the same. But as a nicotine addict, I know if you’ve gone too long without a drag, its familiar taste will be the sweetest thing to ever touch your tongue. What I’m trying to say is your absence only strengthens my craving, and it has been far too long since I’ve breathed you in.

You’re making me slip into old habits. I just want to forget and feel something good instead for awhile. I am already being wrecked, might as well self-destruct.

If you meet somebody and your heart pounds, your hands shake, your knees go weak, that’s not the one. When you meet your ‘soul mate’ you’ll feel calm. No anxiety, no agitation.

It is a curse being an artist who is unable to express themselves.