look. i don’t think my stretch marks are beautiful. i don’t think they’re tiger stripes or natural tattooos. i don’t think my acne is beautiful. i don’t think the bags under my eyes are beautiful. i just think they’re human. and i don’t think i have to be beautiful all of the time in order to be accepted and loved and sucessful. i don’t think every small detail of my outer appearence needs to be translated into prettiness.
(via degasdad)
تقول : متى نلتقي
أقول : بعد عام و حرب
تقول : متى تنتهي الحرب
أقول : حين نلتقي
-
When are we going to see each other, she asks
After a year and a war, I say
When is the war going to end, she asks
When we see each other, I say.
— Mahmoud Darwish
(via inderacinable)
أقول : بعد عام و حرب
تقول : متى تنتهي الحرب
أقول : حين نلتقي
-
When are we going to see each other, she asks
After a year and a war, I say
When is the war going to end, she asks
When we see each other, I say.
— Mahmoud Darwish
(via inderacinable)
(via studyign)
—you are the knife I turn inside myself, this is love.
— Franz Kafka, from Letters to Milena (via moonlightangel)
— Franz Kafka, from Letters to Milena (via moonlightangel)
(via postmoderns)
