People constantly try to tell us who we are and who we ought to become. We are each put inside society’s boxes; the places where we ‘ought to’ fit in with our carreers, our callings, our future.
And if you choose otherwise, you will be looked down upon; and thought of as not good enough to fit in.

…Truly we are missing the point here.

As humans we are not supposed to be categorized according to a pattern. Each of us is different, and not all shall excell in the things considered ‘most worthy’ by our society…but how destructive is it to measure our worth in other peoples ideals? Truly we are works of art; unique, capable and filled with wonderfulness. So, don’t settle for anything less. Here’s to the dreamers, the artists, the scientists, the mothers, the fathers, the astronauts, the adventurers, and all of the beautiful people of this world who make us see and feel beyond what there is. May we find them, may we love them, may we be them.



Faces of the unsaid

What I love most about faces is that they speak a million words without ever saying anything at all. I’ve found that they never get boring. There is always something new to discover; and if not, the authentic smiles or the genuine tears could never get old. Or perhaps it has nothing to do with that at all. Perhaps the neverchanging beauty behind them is merely the projection of the wonderfulness that lies just beneath the skin.IMG_2671-0.jpgIMG_2704.JPGIMG_2623.JPG


     …If she was electric, if she blew your mind with how much she loved life, beauty, adventure and color, if she made you feel alive and wild, yet safe and sure and if her eyes held deeper stories than any other you had seen, know that her soul is a garden. But not just any garden; one that is evergreen and storylike and deeply grounded

… No matter what, she will be loved even deeper; more than any other living thing on this earth. For her soul is a garden and with every breath, she exhales something beautiful and meaningful.

…And if she is all these things, there is no stopping her. Whatever it may be, she can.

~ To my beloved sister  ~

“Her Name is Rebecca”

— Hela

About Her

I promise you she was the ocean. And I promise you she couldn’t be described otherwise. First, you are drawn to her out of curiosity, a vague interest. But as you get closer and closer, you are ambushed by her waves; strong, deep, lively, but undoubtably sweet and beautiful waves. Once you are sinking deeper and deeper within her, you can’t stop; actually, you don’t want to. For she is a metamorphosis of colors and songs, and the deeper you sink into her, the more you realise that leaving the shore was the greatest thing you had ever done.

I promise you she was the ocean..