Koçaeli - [2/2] Instagram has a limit on video duration, sadly. All of this was filmed and put together on a humble Samsung, and the videos were not edited. So this is raw 5mp footage, lol. I learned and experienced more in this one week than I did in the last six months combined, and for that I am grateful. I have no words, really. It was beautiful, and I miss it, but I am happy that I had the chance to experience it. #FYSC2017#LikapaA 😉
Koçaeli - [1/2] You know when after a long day you cleanse and scrub your face really well and it feels clean, refreshed, and raw? That's how my heart felt after spending four days in this magical camp. I met and became friends with some of the most educated, informed women from all over the world. Our brainstorming groups made me feel like I was finally coming out of my little cardboard box that I had been hiding in for years now. I am still in awe of how amazing every single girl at this camp was and how they were working hard to make the world around them better. And by the end of it all I had attended a Tunisian and a Turkish wedding, learned phrases from about 20 languages, and given a little piece of myself to everyone I had the pleasure of talking to. I love and miss every single one of you beautiful, beautiful women. In sha Allah we will meet again soon. ❤ #FYSC2017
Waking up stressed and sweaty is an essential part of the beginning; because only after that can a day like this happen to you. First you run through heavy rain in your heels and feel one with nature again. Then you build yourself a new home spanning several rooftops and find out that there are more people around you than you realized. Then, and only then, do you get to walk to Mall Road for a midnight dinner with @aleezamushtaq786, where you talk about things that you always used to and always will talk about. And you get to enjoy good company and good food and a light heart. So you see, it's all in the details. It's in the little patterns. Look for them, they're everywhere.
We are seven, ten, twelve years into the future. I look out of my window and see a ghost town alive with the smell of rain and birdsong like I've only heard in the deepest of woods. I close my eyes and it is nothing but muscle memory that takes me back to the balcony we used to stand on every morning. It was where my brother looked at me like I alone made the sun come up, where my sister held my aching hands, where lifetimes were spent in silent glances. It was where he told me he knew I was made for something bigger, something not here; and it terrified him. My mother would stand quietly and we would all pretend not to see each other's tears. Later that night I would hear my parents whisper softly to each other about poetry or mechanical engineering or the rising prices of milk, I don't know. They just looked at each other so softly it made me want to burrow into that conversation and rest my head on it. The truth is, we were never a soft family until we all started dying. It was wonderful and clumsy and dark, dark, dark. We were never a soft family. Period. It was always all metaphors and long-dead uncles and unsaid apologies. It was always messy even when it was nothing but love crying with the song of a thousand thrushes. It was melancholy filled to the brim with all the colours of the rainbow. It was magical, and that magic had rough jagged edges that left me with trust issues and a fear of every person who got close enough to notice that I had a dimple on my right cheek sometimes. It was Fahrenheits and jigsaw pieces. Lost bottle caps and graffiti after 3 pm on rainy nights. It was in sentences that finished too soon, broken off by a sudden thought as your favorite song on the radio is broken off by an air raid warning. The only thing I am certain of is that even when it was landmines and double-edged swords, it was us. Us in the rawest form, and that was all that mattered. That was all that mattered.
"Yes, I need you, my fairy-tale. Because you are the only person I can talk with about the shade of a cloud, about the song of a thought — and about how, when I went out to work today and looked a tall sunflower in the face, it smiled at me with all of its seeds." #Nabokov , Letters to Véra
i. If someone is giving you instructions on something you already know, you don't have to cut them off and say, "I know". They're only trying to help. Not only is it disrespectful, it shows a lack of basic etiquette on your part. If someone is telling you a story they've already told you, don't point it out. It only means that it means something to them. You would learn so much from people if only you stopped interrupting them. Be nice. It's not that hard. ii. Sometimes you tell yourself you'll never trust a certain person again, but when the next time comes around you forget your own promise to yourself. You'll keep falling for it forever. There's something about these people. You'll never be able to tell, but there's something. iii. I can only write with a bitter taste in my mouth. I do have happy days. Days of sunshine and a light heart. I need to document them more often so I can remember the noor my life can be filled with at times, and remind myself that it will come back soon. iv. It's easy to believe I'm permanently happy. It's easy to joke light-heartedly about stress when you feel like you can handle it. But if my dad asks me how I'm doing, I feel like a drop of water ready to shatter. It's strange how fleeting happiness can be even if you've started believing it's here to stay. v. I've been out of touch with photography same as I've been with writing. Here's a bad monochrome photo of my bedroom window. Have a nice day, loves.
(you are) running out of cello tape. . . again, again, again. I see in you a reflection of my last endeavor One other I loved (or pretended to) And left in my rearview mirror receding, receding, gone Don't get this wrong, she chased the lights for miles But I was dead already. This, my love, is a letter of caution Beware my changing heart, for I will love you and then I won't, simple as that. Don't chase after the dying star, amor it's gone, it's gone, it's gone. . #blegh#idkwhatthisis#imsickbye