In September, I’ll Be The First Person In My Family To Ever Go To University.

THE WSL IS BACK!!!!! So happy to be at the Chelsea match tonight 😌💙💙

I leave a part of me everywhere I go. I think most people do, unconsciously. A part of themselves gets left behind and proves to people for decades to come, that they lived. they were there once just like them. existing in the same spaces as them, hundreds of years apart.

I leave a part of me in South Africa every time I part. A country that means so much to me, that my mother grew up in and left behind for a better life. A country I rarely get the chance to go back to, and so cherish every moment with my loved ones when I do. I cry every time I leave, it’s like a part of me is ripped away and left in the country for me to pick back up when I return. every return back is bittersweet. I hold a lot of anger towards my dad for keeping me and my siblings away for so long. I was a child, I deserved to know and see that part of myself too.

I left a part of me in Ecuador a year ago. A country that grew to provide me an escape from the turbulence in my life that surrounded me at the time. It gave me a place to discover myself, to see the world and meet new people, to get away from it all and think. It gave me time to heal most of all. It was a sanctuary. one I didn’t know I need at that point in my life. one I miss every day.

I’ve been to countless countries in my lifetime, every place gives me something I never knew I needed till I got there. every place provides me with a new experience and outlook on life. and while I doubt I’m alone in this feeling, I feel as if words will never be able to convey how much it means to me.

I’m lucky enough to have travelled far, seen different cultures and met people from different walks of life. they will stick with me forever.

one day she will know how much she means to me. I will spend every day I can convincing her of it.

next year I’ll be 20. an age I never thought I’d reach. I never truly envisioned a life past sixteen. I had far fetched dreams, stuff I told the people around me to appease them, but I never truly thought it would happen. I never thought I’d get this far. It’s slightly surreal, like I’m in some sort of limbo, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

allistic people will never understand how consuming a hyper-fixation can be, whether you like it or not.

Spotify Wrapped choosing violence

me coded as fuck

fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s ‘i am an observer, but not by choice.’

[text id: my fist has always been clenched around the handle of an invisible suitcase. / i am always ready to leave. / there is not a single room in this world where i belong.]

grief is an old friend, worming its way into my heart and wrapping its tendrils around my ribcage. sometimes it is a comfort, to know I loved someone so dearly that the remnants of it still lingers.

sometimes it threatens to swallow me whole and weigh me down, it makes me want to scream to a higher power that it’s not fair, that they deserved more time. the answer never comes, and the silence that follows leaves me empty and hollow.

I fear this feeling might never leave, and I will be forever burdened by grief.

god gives his most niche fandoms to his most autistic warriors