My mom carried me for nine months. She felt sick for those months with nausea, then she watched her feet swell & her skin stretch. She teared. She struggled to climb stairs, she got breathless quickly and she even suffered many sleepless nights. She then went through excruciating pain to bring me into this world. Then, she became my nurse, my chef, my maid, my chauffeur, my biggest fan, my teacher & my best friend. She's struggled for me, cried over me, hoped the best for me and prayed for me. Most of us take our mom for granted. Reblog if you love your mom more than anything else in the world.
“You write. That’s the hard bit that nobody sees. You write on the good days and you write on the lousy days. Like a shark, you have to keep moving forward or you die. Writing may or may not be your salvation; it might or might not be your destiny. But that does not matter. What matters right now are the words, one after another. Find the next word. Write it down. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.”—Neil Gaiman (via planb-becomeapirate)