PARALLELS: lovers and the multiverse theory.

credits: 1. gaby dunn; 2. tumblr user @arifables / @okayophelia (deactivated) ; 3. tongari; 4. forugh farrokhzad; 5. an instagram user who deleted their account; 6. dulce maría loynaz; 7. natalie diaz; 8. amal el-mohtar.

i've tried writing this post twice now and i am literally incapable of putting it into words but like,,the way platonic love is so overwhelming and so powerful like it's Literally everywhere like my friends tagging me in dumb tiktoks that they think i'd like and spamming the comments of my posts saying nice things and fucking around in the drinks aisle of the supermarket with me and going to concerts for artists that they don't even like that much because i asked because they know we can still have fun together no matter where we are and falling back into the same patterns even though we haven't seen each other in 5 months and reading my favourite books because i keep mentioning them to them and watching terrible horror movies together because one of them said they liked it and texting me whenever they listen to a song i recommended to them and knowing my favourite flavour of the shitty drinks they sell in the school canteen and falling asleep together on facetime only to wake up at 3am and play minecraft and spending hours talking about what we want from the future and how we feel about kids and relationships and the thought of growing up and moving away but still talking about how we'd all go to each other's weddings despite none of us knowing what could happen in the future but that doesn't even matter because right now we all still have each other and yeah ok i could go years without being in a romantic relationship but i don't think it would matter because platonic bonds are so Good for us and so powerful and once you get over the fear of losing them literally nothing else matters

if we could all stop pretending we are whole, and instead embrace our constant becoming…

…perhaps we could begin to love the process of growth and change, rather than anxiously awaiting the final form.

love intentionally! organically! genuinely!

one day, a couple years from now, you’re gonna look back and say, “oh my god, i’m so glad i made it through”. you’re gonna have moments where you love the world so much it makes the back of ur nose burn and you’re gonna have moments where u love yourself, even the parts you thought you would never ever like. you’re gonna have people in your life that you love, and you’re gonna have bad days, but i promise promise promise you it will be so much better. you’re gonna be ok.

“After learning my flight was detained 4 hours, I heard the announcement: if anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately. Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there. An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly. Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her problem? We told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she did this. I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly. Shu dow-a, shu-biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick, sho bit se-wee? The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—she stopped crying. She thought our flight had been canceled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late. Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him. We called her son and I spoke with him in English. I told him I would stay with his mother until we got on the plane and would ride next to her—Southwest. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out, of course, they had ten shared friends. Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours. She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—and was offering them to all the women at the gate. To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California, the lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies. And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—non-alcoholic—and the two little girls from our flight, one African American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice and lemonade, and they were covered with powdered sugar, too. And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing with green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere. And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought, this is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped—has seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women, too. This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.”

— Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952), “Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal.”

Be calm. When you close your eyes, you will be lying in a field. The grass is soft. Around you, there is birdsong. The sun is warm on your face. The sky is blue above.

uska chehra chand ki tarha hai