I can't believe half the year has already passed. Not because it feels so short, but because it feels so long. It felt like June would never end. I'm a little disappointed that it did.
What May was as big unadulterated bag of burning dog poop, June was the extinguisher that put it out. Overall, it was a good month.
So here is what I've been doing in June!


I don't want to be a time bomb. Tick. Tick. Tock.
I don't want to bottle up frustration, hide anger and let words stab into me, let the shards stay in me then rip them off when everyone else is asleep. The clock pauses. Then it ticks. Tick. Tick. Tock.
It's too much effort to get angry, and be angry, and stay angry. I say to myself. Let the clock continue to tick. Tick. Tick. Tock. Before it self-destructs.
Let it explode. Fits and screams erupt until cries are left hoarse and breathless. Let it burn. Fire cackles that burns numb flesh. Let the rubble disappear. Stand up, and wipe the waterworks, and wash away the ashes. Let it begin again.
I don't want to self-destruct.
She was born from purpureus smoke. Shrouded in pale dust and ash, she sits on a throne made of spikes and lifts a gentle hand. Sand and soot swirl around her fingertips, transforming into silhouettes of songs. Faceless figures arose, shadows that bent to her feet.
With a swat of her wrist, they vanished. They obeyed, they worshiped, they feared. They watched her burn in sweltering flames. Watch her rise from their screams.
“Brave isn't something you are. It's something you do.” - Cynthia Hand
Rating || 5/5
Can you consider suicide as a sub-genre of young adult books? If so, then The Last Time We Say Goodbye is the apotheosis.
This book has been passed around my friends. All commending it. It is a tidal wave of emotional turmoil, beautiful aggravation and haunting realism. They were right. It crashes into you, pulling you into its misery and pain until it leaves you curled into a ball covered in pink bed sheets, crying.
It seemed like eons ago when Dresslink approached me, asking whether I would like to collaborate with them. So I browsed through the site, curious. The first thing you would notice is the wide range of clothes and accessories for the ridiculously cheap.
Many, many bloggers have worked with them to mixed-to-positive reviews. Some enjoyed the experience, some did not. I would be lying if I said I wasn't skeptical at first. My mother convinced me to give it a try.
So I picked a few of my favourite pieces from the site to show you.
I'm a Muslim. I say that statement, not of pride or pious, but nonchalantly. My Muslim status doesn't affect blogging, nor does blogging affect my Muslim status. I'm not a Muslim blogger, I'm a blogger who just happens to be Muslim. I don't feel the need to remind people in every other blog post but it's part of who I am nonetheless.
That said, I wish you a Happy Ramadhan.
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