Finding My Way...

MK\محمد, UK/KSA ...I'm going to travel the world, some day.

AS A PILOT SEES THE WORLD……

alfred-f-jones-world-hero:

A Lake in Pomerania, Poland

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Amsterdam

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Athens

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Bac Son Valley, Vietnam

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Barcelona

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Bern

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Cape Town

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Central Park, New York City

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Chicago

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Dubai

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Dubrovnik

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Giza Pyramids, Egypt

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Mali, Maldives

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Mangroves in New Caledonia

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Marina Bay, Dubai

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Maze at Longleat, England

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Meskendir Valley, Turkey

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Mexico City

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Moscow

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Namib Desert, Namibia

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Niagara Falls, U.S.A.

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Paris

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Rio de Janeiro

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Seattle

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Shanghai

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Terraced Rice Fields, China

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Tulip Fields, The Netherlands

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Vancouver

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Vatican City

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Venice

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space-pics:
“STS-49 Mission Specialist Pierre Thuot is perched on the end effector of the Robot Arm (Remote Manipulator System/RMS), with the Intelsat VI capture bar. [3000 x 1987]
”

space-pics:

STS-49 Mission Specialist Pierre Thuot is perched on the end effector of the Robot Arm (Remote Manipulator System/RMS), with the Intelsat VI capture bar. [3000 x 1987]

wulfrvc:
“There is always space for growth in love and humanity, over gender, over colour, over mental disorders, I am whole.
My mother gave me her passion and my father raised me with his intelligence, but somehow it was not enough. They mixed the...

wulfrvc:

There is always space for growth in love and humanity, over gender, over colour, over mental disorders, I am whole.

My mother gave me her passion and my father raised me with his intelligence, but somehow it was not enough. They mixed the knowledge with culture and poisoned my religion. Eventually breathing became inappropriate, it suffocated my strength, because I am female, I am alluring. My existence was a pure sin. 

I had to be home before maghrib, because that’s when the darkness rises but they did not know I had a darkness within me. Independence and ambition was not enough when I was strangled by perfection. Shaped until I was the beautiful daughter, polite housewife, cooking and cleaning obediently but all it did was plant seeds of obsession. The dreams and grades did not matter when the purpose was to know how to rear babies, to bear babies… but lord forbid, the art of sex interested me. 

My mother gave me her depression and my father raised me with anxiety. The death bed was my home and the medication was my friend. I learnt that emotions are just a facade because it is never what it seems. My mother was exhausted- the golden wife, the modest businesswoman, the protective mother. And my father was unhappy- the foundation, the role-model, the shadow. It was never enough.

I couldn’t tie my home back together with my hijab. My mother taught me the struggle and my father showed me power. I stopped looking for love in lust and realised this immigrant girl, cold but gold, will always grow alone. I am the root to existence, and that is enough to see the beauty beyond it all.

- @baesabr