Surmayah - I'll Always Seek To Make It Summer For You

xiao wen ju for shushu/tong spring-summer 2021

from The Crown Ain’t Worth Much by Hanif Abdurraqib

And here children, is a prime example of learning history from social media. The answer to this lies in the very definition of "colonialism", quite a contrary to the mughal rule in India.

Not another post whining about why “mUgHaLs WeRe nOt cOlOnizErs” like girl, they were literally foreign invaders who forced you to speak their language, broke your temples, tried eradicating your culture and collected zizya taxes motivated by religious bigotry in hopes of forcing your people to convert! At least have some shame and consideration for your ancestors.

I love vacillator but seriously guys if you love me please don't keep it to yourself I'm a bit insecure and I'd much rather you say you love me instead of making me guess it would really mean a lot thanks guys

one of the saddest things is when someone in your family tells you you would've loved someone who died before you were born. like my mother has told me & my best friend that we would have loved talking to her father. that me & my brothers have the same humor as our late uncle & even look like him. everyone is everywhere & nowhere & here & gone & dying & coming back. it's as though you know them through their shadow or their ghost or your own actions, but you won't ever really know. haunts me, i guess

you asked me what i ate today and i cough so hard pieces of my spine are thrown from my mouth. i taste blood every time you look at me like i'm something worth dying for. when i was twelve i broke my wrist. it never healed right so now every time you try to hold my hand my bones ache.

my mom says i remind her of her mom and that sometimes it's hard to look at me. it is spring and i hope the hummingbirds can't see into this house.

there are boys that claimed my body felt like home to them. i will never understand this because my hands still shake every time i place them around my neck asking myself how much longer until the thought of peace doesn't make me choke to death.

how can i be this tender and still bite my tongue so hard until everything i never said rots my teeth? i'd let my anger burn this city to the ground before letting anyone hear me say how sorry i am for everything i am not.

-unknown

Radio Romance by Mashrou' Leila

Photo by George Semerdjian