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Devdas, 2002.

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Eid mubarak, just did my henna.

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Hogwarts Houses + Founders: Rowena Ravenclaw

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen…

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ロスト

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Neon Babe, 2018 Lucas McBath

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this is becoming an aesthetic blog so pls feel free to unfollow

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hey guys im alive if u want a short starter like this lol

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Sometimes we get sad about things and we don’t like to tell other people that we are sad about them. We like to keep it a secret. Or sometimes, we are sad but we really don’t know why we are sad, so we say we aren’t sad but we really are.

Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (via thequotejournals)

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considering the fact that in pakistan summer time temperature is usually above 30C  and majority of people wear traditional dress it really shouldn’t worry you. Thin cotton is worn and it is baggy and loose, making it extremely comfortable and it protects your body from harsh sun rays.

i hate the fact that it’s got to the point where im ashamed to walk around in traditional pakistani dress to even get the mail or take out the trash because im afraid someone will scream at me telling me im a terrorist and that i need to go back to my own country

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you know what frustrates me? When you’re always there for people, you love them, support them, give advice. Every day people ask me for help or comfort and support if anything i i notice that something is wrong and help them. But once, just once I want someone to ask what is wrong, to ask whyi’m so sad, to pester me, to help me. Ask me until i finally tell them what my uncle did, so i can tell them how im scared to sleep at night, or how i get flashbacks or how im afraid he’ll find me. How i see him in my dreams trying to open the door to my room while im sleeping, him following me around, sending me messages, giving me money to shut me up, sitting next to me whispering ‘lets go outside’ , it hurts that, my dad knows what happened and he told me to keep quiet for ‘family honour’ it hurts how the grandfather i was so close too is dead and how i feel so vulnerable, so ashamed of myself that i have trouble not being paranoid. honestly i hate the fact that ive got to rant on tumblr because i cant stop crying and i just wish i wish i could explain and i wish i could do something but i feel so ashamed of myself and who i am that i feel like im drowning i cant even write anymore i cant even think because i can save people drowning but fuck my life because i cant even swim. im going back in december and hes going to be there and fuck i cant stop being scared as hard as i try i cant help it im sorry fucks sake just someone ask me if im oK just ask me i dont care just mean it please

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I want to make a susan blog from narnia in which she’s 21 and coping with the death of her entirely family and finding out about narnia and remembering and nylon and lipstick and arghhh someone stop me