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Here’s to the security guards who maybe had a degree in another land. Here’s to the manicurist who had to leave her family to come here, painting the nails, scrubbing the feet of strangers. Here’s to the janitors who don’t understand English yet work hard despite it all. Here’s to the fast food workers who work hard to see their family smile. Here’s to the laundry man at the Marriott who told me with the sparkle in his eyes how he was an engineer in Peru. Here’s to the bus driver, the Turkish Sufi who almost danced when I quoted Rumi. Here’s to the harvesters who live in fear of being deported for coming here to open the road for their future generation. Here’s to the taxi drivers from Nigeria, Ghana, Egypt and India who gossip amongst themselves. Here is to them waking up at 4am, calling home to hear the voices of their loved ones. Here is to their children, to the children who despite it all become artists, writers, teachers, doctors, lawyers, activists and rebels. Here’s to Western Union and Money Gram. For never forgetting home. Here’s to their children who carry the heartbeats of their motherland and even in sleep, speak with pride about their fathers. Keep on.
Immigrants. First generation.
The first sip of tea is always the hardest.
that isn’t supposed to be inspirational, I’m just stating it’s fucking nerve-racking waiting for it to touch your lips and potentially having it melt your face off
be still and feel the earth breathe beneath you
WHAT KIND OF DOG IS THIS?!
This is an old pic I took of one of my friends. We went to the sea, and she told me her boyfriend broke her heart that day. And oh god oh god she was so sad. She took off all of her clothes and jumped in the water without saying a word. I watched her swimming so far and then coming back. When she walked out she sat near the water and I took this picture of her. I’ll never forget her.
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