Dear Humanity,
I'm Haya from Gaza , from a family of 8 people: my parents, two sons, and four daughters (two of them suffer from allergies).
I've witnessed the evidence of the tragedy that has struck our lives in Gaza, where my family and I have survived amidst numerous previous wars. But today, we face the most dangerous and fierce battle in the current war. The urgent need intensifies for us, as we have nothing left and are unable to secure our basic needs such as food, water, and safe shelter.
Here is our story - On October 7th, our lives changed forever, my family and I evacuated from northern Gaza to southern Gaza, hoping to return soon, but it wasn't meant to be. Our home was surrounded, burned, and then completely destroyed, Our home, once a fortress of hope, now lay in ruins, a stark reminder of our shattered dreams.
The night before we left from the north to the south was terrifying. Shelling sounds were everywhere, making a loud noise that felt like it went through our souls. Every explosions shook the ground like earthquakes, sending shockwaves of fear through our trembling bodies. filling us with fear. The air smelled of destruction and blood, making it hard to breathe. When dawn came, we saw the devastation around us, realizing our home was now a symbol of loss and despair.
We ran into the streets and with each step we took into the unknown streets, we felt as if we were plunging deeper into the abyss of our shattered existence, leaving behind everything we own in our home: Clothes, important official documents, the car, and literally it's almost everything - the enormity of our loss weighed heavily upon us.
Our home it was where we found hope, safety, and made precious memories. Losing it felt like losing years of our lives, leaving us adrift amidst the wreckage of our shattered existence.
A brief video depicting the devastation that struck our home and our entire neighborhood in Gaza.
Desperate Plea: Escaping Gaza's Allergy Nightmare
I, Haya, suffer from severe allergy to penicillin-derived medications, and my sister, Amal, also suffers from severe allergies to medications from my family such as Paracetamol and Ibuprofen.
These allergies create a deep sense of fear and anxiety for us, as we live in a constant state of tension and fear of anything that may require a visit to the hospital. We fear being given inappropriate medications due to the unavailability of suitable treatments in Gaza because of war or lack of awareness and not informing the doctor of our allergies, which could lead to serious consequences threatening our lives.
MY Father Income
Our dreams are heading towards oblivion in the labyrinth of an uncertain future
My story, along with my siblings, represents a united team of four individuals, three of whom are skilled programmers and one graphic designer. We work as freelancers in the world of freelancing.
As for my younger sister, she is a student studying at the College of Architecture. She has always carried a big dream in her heart, a dream of being part of changing Gaza, of making it more beautiful and better. She looked forward to the day when she would receive her degree and start building this dream. But the beginning of the war changed everything. The destruction of infrastructure and universities cast shadows of despair over her dreams.
When I think of my brother in Belgium, I can't help but feel deep sadness. He has been suffering from unbearable anxiety and insomnia since the outbreak of the war. Sleep eludes him at night, and his physical and mental health collapses under the weight of these heavy burdens, negatively affecting his performance at work. Problems and challenges pile up in front of him without the slightest opportunity for rest.
We all feel psychological pressure and extreme anxiety. The war hasn't been limited to external attacks but has deeply infiltrated our daily lives. We search among the rubble for a little safety and the basic resources for survival. Every day comes with a new challenge that we must overcome.
As we sway amidst the rubble of shattered dreams, our souls wrestle and our hearts beat strongly challenging the ravages of war.
Our parents earnestly seek a way to rescue us from this hell, feeling the heavy responsibility for every moment we spend under the shadows of fear and destruction. They dream of a safe place where they can build for us a better future, filled with security and hope, for we deserve life in all its meanings of comfort and peace.
Perhaps this fundraising campaign represents a light in the midst of darkness, it is indeed the only hope we cling to firmly.
I appeal to the world as a whole to hear my cry and the mournful cry of my family in Gaza. We need the helping hand that reaches out to wipe our tears and build a bridge to safety.
Your donation is not just a donation; it's an opportunity to rebuild life and brighten a better tomorrow. Be part of our hopeful story, for we need your hand to start anew.
The purpose of the fundraising campaign
The goal of this fundraising campaign is to rescue my family - my parents, my siblings, and me - through the Rafah Crossing to Egypt, which currently requires $5000 per person. This campaign is our only chance to stay alive, and I humbly request your assistance at this critical time. I will provide you with a comprehensive breakdown of the expenses, committing to transparency and clarity.
Thank you for your kindness and support.
.جزاكم الله خيراً
yours sincerely;
Haya Alshawish.
we need to talk about a serious issue.
I am Brazilian, and in a state in Brazil, Amazonas, there is a huge fire going on and we need to talk about it urgently. The largest tropical forest in the world, the Amazônia, is being destroyed on a massive scale. The air in São Paulo is the most polluted in the world, people can't breathe well and the weather is very dry. I ask that you help spread the word about this, things are very serious and I want other people outside of Brazil to know what is happening and think about taking care of the environment in which they live so that the same disaster doesn't happen again.
That's it guys, thank you for your attention and I apologize if there are any errors in this text, my english is not the best.
kisses, dolpetite 🤍
*makes this noise at you*
31st December 2023.
They still need more esims. Please refer to the website on how to purchase esims.
SIM CARA eu até tento pensar que o negócio do evento ele sla, achou que tava tudo bem por que ele é príncipe e recebe tudo de mão beijada de certa forma, não ficaria surpresa se ele tivesse se perguntado em voz alta se ia ser uma boa ideia e o sebek ter concordado por que "seria um honra ajudar o grande malleus dessa forma!"
Mas eu simplesmente não aceito o cap 5 e o 3 porque são duas situações aonde a yuu podia ter se machucado (no caso até >MORRIDO<) e ele não esboça reação NENHUMA ele escuta "a teve um overblot e a aluna SEM MAGIA NENHUMA >>AMIGA SUA<< tava lá lutando"E ELE NEM SE PREOCUPA. NEM PERGUNTA SE TA BEM! A AMIGA PERDE A CASA E ELE NEM OFERECE PRA ELA PASSAR A NOITE NO DORMITÓRIO DELE!!
Dps que me toquei disso tudo ele desceu um pouco o meu top personagens que eu gosto agora Jamil e Jack tão empatados em primeiro Bodia.
Ok, I'll put my head on the guillotine, I really need to know if people agree with me:
I don't dislike Malleus himself (though he isn't very high on my list), but the Fandom's obsession with him makes me avoid content with him most of the time. It's particularly grating to me the fact they portray him as a lovesick simp for Yuu when he's never there for them when it matters in canon
I'm never forgetting the Palestinian babies that were left to starve to death then rot in their beds by the IOF.
I'm never forgetting the Palestinian doctors surrounded by bodies of dead children begging the world to stop the slaughter.
I'm never forgetting the Palestinian children who held a press conference in English to beg the world to stop murdering them because they want to live.
I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Priest who said "We will not accept your apology after the genocide" to the world.
I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Imam who used the speakers of the Mosque, not to call people to prayer but to call out to God while the world around them was burning from American supplied Israeli bombs.
I'm never forgetting the grandfather who held his dead grandchild in his arms. Or the father carrying the remains of his two children in plastic shopping bags. Or the mother holding her dead child in a shroud. Or the father sitting among the rubble after he lost his whole family. Or the girl trapped under a broken building begging for people to save her family first. Or the boy who cried when he saw his brother alive. Or the girl who asked if she was still alive after being pulled from the rubble. Or the boy who carried the remains of his brother in his backpack. Or the old man the IOF used for a photoshoot before they shot him dead after getting pictures. Or the little boy wearing plastic gloves to pick up the remains of his family. Or the graves desecrated. Or the body of that small baby girl left alone in a tent because no one knew who she was or if her family was alive, small and alone and not one person who knew her name to bury her. Or the young boy who was shot in the street while his sister watched from the window. Or the men and boys who were stripped naked in winter. Or those tortured. Or those made to stand in open graves. Or the people who were raped by IOF soldiers. Or Palestinian workers kidnapped by the IOF and then labeled with wristbands, each one reduced to a number, then made to walk back to Gaza to be killed in the world's largest open air concentration camp. Or the people of Gaza starving because Israeli Zionists are blocking aid trucks. Or the Israelis dancing and celebrating the death of Palestinians. Or the lies spread by Zionists and their supporters. Or the people profiting off the oppression and deaths of Palestinians. Or the people of the West Bank being killed or kidnapped by the IOF. Or old woman who was older than the creation of the terror state of "Israel" who was shot by snipers for saying that. Or the Israelis dressed up as Palestinians to enter a hospital and kill three Palestinians in their beds. Or every single Palestinian currently kept in an Israeli prison. Or the journalists, doctors, poets, men, women, children, and the unborn all massacred. Or the fact that WCNSF exists now. Or the woman who refused to wash the blood from her hands. Or the dead, unburied and unmourned.
I'm never forgetting those who chose silence in the face of a genocide.
I may not know all their names but I will not forget the over 30,000 Palestinians dead. Or the over 60, 000 people hurt. Or the unknown number of people missing, still lost under the rubble. Or the 12,000 children slaughtered. An entire generation crippled or murdered.
I will never forget these things when Palestine is free.
The US, Canada, Australia, Britain, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, Switzerland and Finland have suspended funding. Ireland and Norway have not
[SOURCE]
So when you hear about Biden slowing down arms shipment
It's not because he cares about Palestinians (cutting UNRWA funds, because of confessions obtained through torture, should tell you otherwise), it's because he doesn't have a large stockpile of weapons to send.
This is your reminder to keep boycotting
[source]
Aquelas animações que a mãe faz uma torta e coloca na janela pra esfriar e ela literalmente se vira por um segundo e a torta desaparece.
Favor não comer a "casca" do panetone, os únicos nutrientes que você vai achar ali são os do câncer de estômago.