Safe Place - Blog Posts

About me 💋

I’m a just a french girl who need to react to every event of his life. And tumblr is the best to do it !!!

ps : I’m still learning English, so don't hesitate to correct me if I make mistakes !!! ☺️

🍓 My favorite artists

American artists :

Ariana Grande, SZA, Kali Uchis, Raye, Rhianna, Mélanie Martinez, Lady gaga, Drake, Childish Gambino,

French artists :

Damso, PNL, MZ, Luidji, Tsew the kid, Hellcat, Stromae

🍓 My favorite movies

- Hunger games, the best of all time, I’ve loved this movie since I was born !! ( TEAM PEETAAAA )

- White chicks, I can to die of laughter when I see this masterclass

- Mathilda, all children should watch it

🍓 Hobbies

- photography

- writing and reading

- football, I’m just watching

- clothes and snickers

- makeup and skincare

That’s it, I think I’ve been around !!! 🪩

If you have any questions don’t hesitate to come and talk to me !! 🩶

Love u guys and see you soon

Kiss kiss 🍓

Nostalgia

“don’t worry, shell eventually grow out of it’’

I never did

Change: A process through which something becomes different

With growth comes along change

I grew, yet I remain the same.

Maybe it’s the nostalgia evoking me, an attachment grasping me in what seems to be the past

‘’move on’’ How can I leave what tended to structure me?

In a manner I am an adult, yet a sense of maturity is still to be held

I’m taller!, I’ve grown! Somehow a child reminisces within me, a child which Iv not abandoned, he isn’t what I used to be, he is what I am, maybe not fully but an essence still floats within me, and I carry it wherever I go.

(Idealism is a disease) by joud abu rashed

Idealism is a disease

Once it enters your system it feeds off of your mistakes

It spreads like a wildfire making you quake

Symptom after symptom you start to hallucinate

A thought becomes a reality

There’s no real definition of actuality

All you can do is live in brutality

And endure that cruelty

There’s no one to blame but that little voice in your head

Making you wish on sweet death

Whispering to you as if it was your own closest friend

The doctors say there’s a cure

One that’s pure

But there’s a price

First you have to apologize

To the body you forced to idealize 

A vulnerable state of you past mistakes

Drowning you in a lake

The water reflects an image of grief and regret  

As it overwhelms you slowly you start to forget

A cold breeze of acceptance washes all over you

A warm feeling is new

A smile takes over you

Now you are cured.

this poem speaks about my struggles with anxiety and perfectionism. I hope you find a sense of comfort in it 

REBLOG THIS POST IF YOU FEEL SAFER WHEN QUEER SPACES ARE OPENLY ACCEPTING OF AMAB NONBINARY PEOPLE

Sometimes I look at my hand as it rests on your skin. My worn hand, veins visible along my muscled forearm and over my hand, the wrinkles, the scars, the calluses. Such a contrast to your soft, perfect skin. So youthful, so vibrant and pristine. So full of life and vigor. I think of all that my hands have seen and done through the years. Having been through so much that your youth has yet to experience. I feel the loss of those years. Especially when I think of all the years and life and adventures you have yet to experience. You are so blessed and I am excited for the life you have ahead of you. I want to share it all with you. To see it all anew through your precious eyes. To show you the things I’ve learned and lost. To share so much with you. But how long will we have to share those things? I feel those years weigh on me and know that our time together may only be the blink of an eye, a small piece of your journey and your life story. Whatever my part to play will be I will always cherish it and the time with you. My sweet amazing baby girl!

- it's love, when soul falls for a soul