ikaries:

when u hear ur name in a conversation

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(Source: madotsukies, via unescapable)

a-dur:

onefitmodel:

realising that we’re almost halfway through the year 2013 and i have literally achieved nothing 

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realising that you’re reading this almost halfway trough 2014 and still haven’t achieved nothing

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(via lubricates)

Creative writing - My weekend - ISIS Inspired

“You have 24 hours. 24 hours to make a decision.” 

I peaked through my window, I parted the curtain just enough for one of my eyes to peak through. Three giant, green, grungy tanks were driving on the rubble road. There was a sea of men wearing a black outfit running around the tanks, shouting through the microphones. What on Earth is going on? I closed the curtain and ran to my room to grab my phone. My wife had woken up and was sitting up right with her legs still underneath the blankets. “What is happening Sargis?” her eyes filled with worry, searching mine for answers. “Go back to bed Mariam, its nothing.” How could I tell her whats going on if I didn’t know my self? I quickly left the room before she would ask me more questions. I started panicking. I paced up and down the house, trying to figure out who to call. I began to dial my neighbours phone when I heard gun shots outside my house. 

“24 hours. You have 24 hours”

I went back into the living room and peaked through the window again. On the floor, lying outside his house was my neighbour. I dropped my phone, and my mouth opened in grief. The pool of blood took seconds to look like the sea and his body began floating in the middle. Something grabbed my arm, I quickly looked and realised it was my son. “Baba, whats happening, what was that noise?”. I stared at him, lost for words, only 7 years old and surrounded by such tragedy. “Its nothing Ashur,” I took a hold of my self, “go wake your sister and go into my room with your mother” “But baba..” “Go now”. As he ran to his sisters room I picked up phone again, I began to dial my other neighbour. The phone rang for what felt like a decade. “Hello?” “Hello neighbour? Whats happening? Who are those people outside? They shot David, he’s on the floor, what happening Jan?” He started mumbling “Jan, please tell me?” “Its them, its them again, they’re telling us to either convert to their religion, pay extra tax, be killed or leave and we only have till Saturday to decide.” 

“24 hours to make a decision.” 

I was silent and then the phone hung up, I looked at my phone, I had run out of battery. What kind of authority do these people think they have over me? What kind of choices are they making us take? Leave our homeland? My house? This stupid house I have been paying off for over a decade? No. They cant. I threw my phone at the floor. “Sargis please.” My wife was leaning against the wall, “Tell me whats happening”. I began to explain to her our fate and her hands slowly rose up and covered her face while she wept. Her tears started running down her cheeks and dripped from her hands. “Please Mariam, we have to decide what we want to do and take action fast.” She looked at me, again searching for answers. “What about the kids? Their future?”. Why does she ask such hard questions? Doesn’t she understand that I don’t know either? “Mariam, I don’t know. But nothing will come to them, I promise. Let us choose now before we are next.” She was silent. She knew nothing good would come out of this, I could see it in her eyes and she could see I couldn’t accept it. Did we really have a choice? Were these people really going to let us live without torturing us? I made up my my mind. Religion is religion, I will not convert. My parents brought me up with my belief and for my whole life I have been following them. I cannot change it within a glimpse of 24 hours. This house is expensive. My job can only provide food and the mortgage for this house. I cant afford to pay extra tax. I am not going to die by the sword, nor will I let my family follow that fate. “Mariam, help me pack our bags. We’re leaving.” 

“12 hours to make a decision.” 

I peaked through my window again. My children and wife anxiously standing behind me. “Is it safe baba?” My eyes panned from one corner to another. I couldn’t see any sign of them anywhere. “Yes, but move quickly.” My wife opened the door and I grabbed our bags in one hand my my key, ready to open the car in the other. “Grab one bag each, we have to move fast.” I walked out first and power walked to our car. As I reached our gate, something in red caught my eye. Our house had been marked with a ’n’. My family followed me to the back of the car, I opened the boot and placed all our luggage in. “Quickly, get in the car.” I ran to the front of the car and buckled my seat belt. I looked in my rearview mirror to see if everyone was in the car. After checking everything, I began driving off with just enough fuel to get us by. “Baba, what did the ‘n’ mean?” “Nineveh, it means Nassarah. Christians. They marked our house so that they know who we are.” We reached the main road and soon there was traffic. The cars started to honk at each other. All trying to escape the city before time ran out. I tried not to look at my wife, I knew if she saw my face she would know that we were in a dilemma. 

“12 hours to leave.” 

Traffic began to move. I started to speed to get back on track. I reached a check point after an hour. “Get out of the car.” “Baba…” I looked at my daughter, she was holding her cross in her hand “.. do we get out?” My wife turned away, she couldn’t bare look at any of us. “Get out slowly” I looked at my wife “and stand behind me” they all nodded. The men had black scarves around their necks and black sunglasses, hiding their eyes. Men stood on both sides of the road, holding machine guns and polls which had black flags flying against the wind. “You are dogs! You have nothing in this city anymore!” They forced the keys out from my hands, and drove the car to the side. There were many other cars all parked behind each other. “Give me your bag woman!” They took our ID’s, our gold, and the money from my wallet. “Show me your hands!” He was yelling at my wife and I couldn’t do anything about it. What choice did I have? There were guns everywhere. My wife slowly raised her hands above her head. The man grabbed her hand and pulled the wedding ring from her finger. “You too mister, give me your ring.” Memories of my wedding flashed in front of my eyes. My wife, in a glistening white dress placed the ring on my finger and looked me in the eyes. “Did you not hear me?” I snapped back, and pulled the ring from my finger. “Thats more like it. Now move. You’re free to go…. walking” He bursted out in laughter and his companions started laughing with him. We started walking away from where we were standing, looking at our car, filled with our luggage. My wife started looking at her naked hand, tears streaming down her face. I hugged and told her not to worry. “There’s a village close by, if we walk fast enough we might be able to make it to safety before night fall.” I picked up my son and placed him on my shoulders, my wife picked up our daughter and we began walking in to the dessert. In the end did we really have a choice to pick from? 

didihearthereadyset:

didihearthereadyset:

didihearthereadyset:

didihearthereadyset:

I have a really hot waiter.

Guys he came back with my food and said, “Careful the plate is hot too.” So I asked, “too?” and hE TOUCHED MY SHOULDER THEN MADE A SIZZLING NOISE.
IM FREAKING OUT WHAT DO I DO.

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wanna know what these all say?

"suck his dick"

(Source: racingbarakarts, via lubricates)

greydelisle:

I thought Pitbull’s first name was “Featuring”.

(via braydaaan)

elissamvp:

When you say something smart and people are shocked

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(via crystallized-teardrops)