Do not worry that your life is turning upside down. How do you know that the side you are used to is better than the one to come?
—  Rumi (via OptimisticallyAstray
And as fragile as the world has made you feel, as many times as you’ve been chipped away at, you still remain:
still trying
still fighting
still surviving.
—  Maxwell Diawuoh, Once A Day (309/366)

A tiny teeny holiday themed sketchdump, full with christmas sweaters and whatnot. CQ (still squeaking inside) popped into my stream a bit, that inspiried me to draw Asy with the kids being cute and silly. And, of course, must had to do something with Grey too XD

Geno and Error belongs to @loverofpiggies, Momma CQ au is @alainaprana‘s, Grey belongs to @foreverafterall

Belle et Heureuse année 2017/ Happy New Year to Everyone !

Photo:Robert Frank- Untitled [Children with Sparklers in Provincetown],1958. 

You are more than everything they ever called you, or everything they did not. You will never be limited by the boundaries they set for you, you are more than just another sheep following down the same tired path. You are limitless. You are as free as you so wish and your dreams are valid no matter how big or small. They try to define you and keep you down because they are afraid. Afraid to see you do better, afraid to see you live a way they do not understand. Afraid to let you be you, but that is all you will ever be.

You are more than they tell you by Amy Kennedy


I am adulterated by my worldly thinking and damaged by my selfish ways
As temptation flows in and my ship begins sinking, my only lifesaver is His grace
He holds my world in His open arms, mindless to the mess I’ve become
For broken pieces and shattered hearts are no problem for The One
The One who told me to never fear,
praise Him and to never worry
The One who’s Son dried my tears, and is coming to rescue without hurry
Unworthy is the only word to depict how I feel,
when it comes to Him,
how do I begin?
Although I sin, His mercy is surreal
And with His redemption, this battle I’ll win
—  what’s the point in fighting when He’s already won for me?

The image I see, of someone who looks exactly like me

Hanging so heavily from a tree.

The weight of his body bends the branches,

While the weight of this image bends my soul.

The smiles of the onlookers ever so large,

Digging the pit of despair so deep in my heart.

Do these people still feel this way,

Although such an atrocity is illegal today?

If given a chance would they do it again,

Would they take a life based on the color of skin?

I put the photo down, and I look in the mirror,

Trying to comprehend their hatred a bit clearer.

What about my people could have been so despised?

But through my worry and hopelessness, for a split second, I see a king in my eyes.

I see the perseverance of thousands of years,

And then I finally understand their fear.

The fear that my dark skin will rule again,

Destroying everything that they have invested in.

I now see their tactic…

When you fear something becoming great, you hang it,

You hang it with slavery, Jim Crow, and mass incarceration,

Any of these things could keep down and destroy a nation.

Through it all, though, they expect our fall,

But rather than be hung by their efforts we stand tall.

By Sherrieff Farrakhan