Azra Tabassum's Blog, page 183
December 7, 2014
"Wake up alone.
Never wake up to someone who doesn’t know who you are. Who doesn’t remember your last..."
Never wake up to someone who doesn’t know who you are. Who doesn’t remember your last name or your birthday. Who can’t recall the last genuine conversation you both had — because they didn’t actually give a damn. Don’t wake up to someone who doesn’t kiss you and passionately. And trust me, if it’s real a kiss on the forehead can have you bothered for days. Don’t wake up to someone who doesn’t inquire about what’s going on up there — in your head, in your eyes — where you’re really alone. Don’t wake up to someone who can’t lie next to you without lusting for you. Who can’t appreciate the beauty of solitude. If they can’t love the sound of you breathing, how can they anything else? — it’s where it all begins.
Don’t wake up to someone who doesn’t smile when they see you open your eyes. They don’t belong there. Don’t wake up to someone who doesn’t hold you just to appreciate your physical manifestation for a little while longer. Don’t wake up to someone who cannot read you. Who cannot play with your fingers or tell you the truth. Who can’t bring you coffee or a good read. Who can’t put their phone, their distractions down for you.
Until you are loved, cherished.
Wake up alone.”
- EA (EmanationsOfAmber)
I am going to name my daughter after you.
I really did need to wake up to this. Thank you.
thegreaterjihad:
In case you wanted to add one more event to the list of tragedies that have...
In case you wanted to add one more event to the list of tragedies that have occurred in the US in the past few weeks, a man in Kansas City killed a teenage boy yesterday by crashing his car into him because the boy was Muslim. America is post-nothing.
December 6, 2014
you seem like one of those people who are so out of touch with their roots
Yes I am. Deliberately. Roots if you mean Bangladesh: corrupt war torn country. Roots if you mean culture: steeped in values that are dated, misogynistic and classist. So yes. I’m out of touch with my roots, I don’t want to be in touch with them. I’m putting down new ones.
youre not "soft" and inviting at all. you're cruel and rude and you don't mean it when you say all those things about yourself that makes it seem as though you're this gentle person who is kind to all. but even when people show you kindness you respond so
This made me laugh, honestly. You’re welcome to think whatever you like about me based on a blog. Just know that it’s a) incredibly presumptuous and b) I can’t bring myself to care for your brand of negativity. I’m certainly not going to defend myself to you. Have a good day.
What would the Boy in your future romance novel be like?
imagine like a golden retriever but as a human
I know you write poetry but gosh I bet you could write a top selling romance novel. Your words are so captivating I love every piece you put out :)
THAT IS THE GOAL. ONE DAY. I AM GOING TO WRITE A ROMANCE NOVEL THAT IS GOING TO TURN EVERYONE WHO READS IT INTO A PILE OF HUMAN SLUSH. I PROMISE.
"Skin off. Listen.
I don’t want my hands back.
Set our rust on fire.
Wait for the scorch.
Fall in..."
I don’t want my hands back.
Set our rust on fire.
Wait for the scorch.
Fall in love like a jet-plane
on broken wings.
Tongue the backs of my knees.
My soul is wearing your teeth.
Temple mouths, kiss me into worship.
God is listening and we’re both scared.
That’s okay, that’s okay.
I meant it.
Everything is beating.
Our alive is an entire city.
Listen. Set it all on fire.
Hold my pulse like it means something.
I’ll give you mine.
Shake it out like a carpet at your feet.
Celebrate our winter bones.
Celebrate our shaking jaws.
Can you hear the congregation?
Their cracking knees.
Listen.
Tell me your name in another language.
I’ll tell you mine.
It’s yours, it’s yours.”
- Azra.T., ”Shotgun heart”
Azra, could you write a poem about something if I asked you to? :)
I’m not a slot machine I’m afraid! You can give it a try but there’s no guarantee :)
natgeofound:
A solitary fisherman’s home keeps watch on quiet...
A solitary fisherman’s home keeps watch on quiet Placentia Bay in Newfoundland, Canada, 1974. Photograph by Sam Abell, National Geographic Creative.
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