Just been thinking.

I’ve been trying to decide for a while now what my blog actually is. And I think I’ve decided that it is what my mind would look like if you could see it. I love visual aesthetics, both natural and artistic. I love literature, and the power of words, when put together in the right way, to inspire and motivate, or capture emotions, moments, feelings. I love the beauty of language in general, whether it be English, French or Arabic. I love wit and humour, from dry and cynical, to downright silly and immature. I’m always thinking about the state of our world at the moment, and although it saddens me how much cruelty there is, I love the fact that there are good people. Lots of good people. And I do believe that good will prevail over evil, however long it takes. I love talking to people, I love my friends, I love my family. I love beautiful music. I love good films. I love House MD and Doctor Who and Harry Potter and old Disney films. I love expressing myself. I just love writing. Excitement, happiness, fear, sadness, worry, whatever’s on my mind… it doesn’t matter. I love clearing up and articulating my thoughts. It let’s me think so much more clearly. :)

I love love love that feeling when you’re all alone in a small, unknown art gallery. You walk slowly and deliberately because every step you take makes this small sound which echoes throughout the whole place almost like the crash of the ocean waves. Each piece you look at is inspiring in some way, even if you don’t like it, or don’t understand it, because it feels like the whole gallery is like one big work of art that you’re walking through. In a way, the near-silence is intimidating, but in another way it’s so peaceful, so comforting. It’s such a breath-taking experience, walking through an art gallery alone.

(Source: ilvadesoi)

"I think and think and think, I’ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it."

Jonathan Safran Foer


Last night I had a dream… happy but sad. Comforting but scary. Bright and yet, somehow dark. I remember smiling, and I remember crying too. And the problem is, I have no idea what it was. I’ve been trying to remember it all day, but the more I think about it the more it slips away. Thinking about it feels like trying to remember someone I never knew, or remember a place I’ve never been to… I feel nostalgic, almost sad in a way, like I’ve lost a happy memory, or forgotten something special or… I don’t even know. And I feel like I want to hold onto it because it’s special but I just have no idea what it is.

I must sound really odd. I’ve been feeling weird all day. Not in a bad way, but not really in a good way either… I’m just curious as to what part of my subconscious thoughts this dream was inspired by ~

(Source: healthynarcissism)

so, not gonna name any names, but why on earth would you like/reblog every other post of mine but NOT follow me?

just sayin’. just sayin’.