Azra Tabassum's Blog, page 11

do you need to feel pain to write? most of your writing exudes love and light, even when you're depicting pain.

I think I’ve realised that I need some sort of heightened emotion to write my peak. I’m all tied up in being perfect now so I can’t write if it’s not exactly what I want. It’s ridiculous.

this is your punch in the face telling you to write.

It’s not painful enough.

Imagine waiting for love for years, finding it, and realizing it isn't enough. My heart is tired.

If it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t right. You weren’t there.

does anyone know if Salma Deera still has a tumblr she’s using??? been trying to text her and for...

does anyone know if Salma Deera still has a tumblr she’s using??? been trying to text her and for like a month and am now slightly freaking out.

you just described what i never had with my family.

I’m sorry I don’t know what you’re referring to

sadsarah:AZRA TABASSUM (or @5000letters)from My Heart is Full of Open Windows;original photos and...

sadsarah:

AZRA TABASSUM (or @5000letters)

from My Heart is Full of Open Windows;

original photos and edit

Are you getting married?

No.

I’m 24 today. I woke up with sunlight cracking through the blinds, my love warm and asleep next to...

I’m 24 today. I woke up with sunlight cracking through the blinds, my love warm and asleep next to me. Stuck my nose in a soft shoulder blade. Content and giddy all the way down to my bones. This is not where I expected to be and I am grateful everyday for it.

If you dont mind me asking, is it an age gap relationship?

It is, yes! How did you know?

The boy is gone, somehow you are as lost as you thought you would be. Somewhere inside, the bear is...

The boy is gone, somehow you are as lost as you thought you would be. Somewhere inside, the bear is growling for you. The boy is gone and so are you. Lost somewhere together in the bleak grey fog of New York City. How you walked together and watched the artwork falling in love with the painting next door. Instead, you think of the sunlight unfurling in your belly, how you were together, the quietness of love hand in hand. The boy is gone but you are not. Instead, the quiet thunder of yourself, how you have survived each one and come out at the end, blazing.