i just wanna work for the fashion industry & wear elegant vintage pieces

أتخالُني من زَلّةٍ أتعتّبُ
قلبي عليكَ أرقُّ ممّا تحسبُ!

It will never ends

I know for sure if I love someone I will sacrifice my soul for, I will literally die for him..that’s my type of love, it’s literally this or nothing

Why die?

11 | Apr,
‏وألقِ السَّكينةَ عليَّ أنا وقلبي.

Kiss me harddd before u go

Summer time saddness

استغفرالله ياربي ايش ذا

اعتقد ان بنقعد استاذة في جامعة

من تانوي الاحساس هذا معايا

speaking is dying. but better speaking and dying than dying without having spoken

i always thought it was better to die. that talking about myself, my needs, or my opinions was pointless. why waste my voice when i knew no one would hear it? when i was sure i’d be ridiculed, judged, or ignored? since childhood, i’d been silenced, told i had no right to speak on topics i knew nothing about. when i tried to set boundaries, express my needs, i was told to think about my behavior and was punished. so i learned to stay silent, to bottle up all the words that lay dormant.

over time, i began to notice that this silence was killing me every day. the things that remained unsaid festered inside me, making me feel poisoned, like i was dying, and the words were dying with me.
every day i decided to remain silent, i felt my inner child take another beating, as if i were signaling to her that her words meant nothing. it was as if i was sinking deeper and deeper into the pattern that had been imposed on me and repeating transgenerational trauma. i felt like i was treating myself the way my parents treated me – i didn’t give myself the right to my own voice.

i imposed punishments on myself, but they were even worse than those i’d once received from loved ones. i punished myself for both speaking and being silent, for being brave and for being afraid.