But not because of the side Facebook, because of its people. They just take everything too serious. I love the idea of Facebook, thanks to Facebook I got to meet some of my family I didn’t meet in person yet. But somehow those persons cause all the fucking trouble. I’m done, getting judged, closed my facebook, insa’allah won’t open it again. if they really like me, they’ll find a way to contact me without Facebook.

1 note
  

Every morning your alarm wakes you up, lying there, in your bed, starring at the ceiling, you’re wondering why you belong to those who survived the night. You stay in your bed for a little more, your bed never felt that comfortable anyway. Pulling the cover tighter around you, your alarm went off once again, you close your eyes, it’s time to wake up, there is no running away from this day. You pull off the cover of your body, the cold air is immediately hitting on your warm body, you shiver once before standing up and walking to the bathroom. You wash your face with warm water; stare at yourself in the mirror. You are searching for flaws in your face; of course you’ll find plenty of flaws. You brush your teeth and your hair before walking out of the bathroom and walking into the kitchen, you make yourself coffee. You take your coffee and walk into your room. You’re trying to be quiet, because your older sister has no school, and you don’t want to wake her up. You make your bed and check your phone for any messages. You got one, of your friend asking you if you want to ride with her to school, you message her back saying yes. You get dressed, jeans and a long shirt over it; you don’t want any boy to notice your curves or your body. You open your closet; you have more hijabs than clothes. You don’t decide for long which one to wear. You take the black one. You have a lot of accessories for your hijab, but you don’t use a single one, just for weddings. You don’t want to get any attention. You’re done with everything, your bag is packed, your coffee is made, you’re ready, but you’ve still 15 minutes, you either go make wudu and pray or you put on makeup. You’re arguing with yourself what to do, and then you remember last night, you told yourself that you want to start to pray regularly, so you kick off shaytan out of your head and go make wudu. After that you turn on the lights in your room, get out a skirt you wear over your jeans. You pray, you even take time to make du3a for all the people who are suffering in this moment. You put away the skirt and take your bag put the empty glass of coffee away and walk out. You walk along the street to the place your friend wanted to pick you up, you wait for her, 5 minutes you are waiting, then she comes you get in the car, you get in and you drive off. During the ride you don’t really talk, even though she takes you to school, you don’t really talk that much, she’s not even in your class, and you never see her in break times. You thank her for the ride and walk to your class. You’re the first one there. No wonder it’s 7am and school starts 7.30am. You sit down on the stairs, listening to music, trying to distract yourself. You want to forget that you’re going to write your last final exam. While looking for a song to listen to, you hear someone whistling happily, you asking yourself who could be so happy at such a day and in such a time. You look up and see your teacher walking by whistling, you roll secretly your eyes at him, he’s asking you if you studied for the exam later, you nod fake smiling, he smiles back and soon leaves. You’re asking yourself why you’re even there, you can’t do it, and you know you’ll fail, but still you’re sitting there waiting for everything to start. The first boy of your class comes and asks you if your studied you say that you studied just a bit and he admits that he didn’t study that much as well, after while more and more come, you teacher comes as well and you all walk in. Around 7.55am you start with the exam, you through it, your first thought is that this exam is not as hard as you thought it would be. Before you start you say “Bismillah”. Around 10.45 you’re done with the exam, a lot of the boys already gave their exam back to the teacher; still they’re not allowed to leave the classroom. You look around; those are the boys you spent 2 years with, as the only girl. You had up and downs with them, more ups than downs, and when you think again, you notice you never had downs with them. Your teacher tells you that you can leave now. You take your books and leave, you walk to the library and give your books back, you won’t need them anymore. You make your way home, you’re asking yourself if you failed all your exams or just one, or maybe none.

After 2 hours you arrive at your house, you see the car of your dad in front of your house. You mom knew that you had your last exam today, she knew you had to wait one hour for the bus, she knew you had to ride one hour with the bus, she knew that your dad wouldn’t work today, still she didn’t pick you up. After a hard day in school, you didn’t want to have a hard day at home, so you walked directly in your room, got in your bed, your laptop on top, and waited for the day to end.

It’s time to go to sleep; you’re lying in bed, starring at the ceiling, wondering if you’ll wake up tomorrow. Every night you’re scarred you might not wake up next day, you say “la ilahe illallah muhammeden resulullah” you want those words to be your last ones. You close your eyes expecting to not wake up again.

You is me and this was my day.

16 notes
  

a-restless-being:

I can’t stand Arab nationalism

21,069 notes
  

huntersandangels:

I use sarcasm because flat out telling you you’re a fucking moron is considered inappropriate and is frowned upon. And I was raised better than that.

6 notes
  

my-kopfkino: