I am Khalid Al-Khatib from Gaza, Palestine. My family of four was displaced after our lives turned into a nightmare of destruction and bombing. We were forced to leave our home in search of safety, losing nearly everything in the process.🙏 🥺
Today, I aspire to start a new life for my family, far from the horrors of war. We have launched a fundraising campaign with a goal of $10,000 to cover relocation costs, housing, education, and essential expenses to ensure stability.🙏 🥺
Thank you for your generosity and support during these challenging times.🤝
With heartfelt gratitude,🤝
Khalid Al-Khatib🤝
@bilal-salah0
@90-ghost
@gazavetters
Reminded of someone saying that that was his way of saying "Dude you're gonna follow right after me lol." and that has been in my head for the past month and a half just waiting for the hours to tick by until March.
I don't care what official translations say, I chose to believe "Et tu, Brute?" translates to "What the FUCK, Brutus?"
Friendly reminder that the living things around you deserve respect just as much as you do.
The spider doesn't know that your house is your house or that any land is off limits at all.
The deer doesn't know that there are roads stripped out daring it to die. It only knows that it needs to cross the earth to get to another part of the earth.
The mouse doesn't know that a kitchen isn't where it's supposed to be. It doesn't know that it isn't supposed to eat the food on the ground it scurried across.
The fly doesn't know that touching your food is wrong. It knows feeding and staying fed. The same as we all do.
Lving things besides humans don't owe humans getting out of the way. Be mindful of the dead rabbit in the road. It ate crop and lived as you did. The only thing it lacked was a human body.
(We won't get into bacteria and organisms smaller than the eye can see for today but they're worth talking about).
Just bought this book so saving this for later!
(Sorry this took so long, BTW.) Here are the codes I have found in Dipper and Mabel’s Guide To Mystery and Non-Stop Fun. The first group of codes will be Bill’s. Then I’ll move on to Dipper’s codes. All of the codes will be bold.(The page numbers will be in parenthesis.)
Here they are:
“Dipper wrote a theme song for himself and sings it in the shower.” (20-21)
“After nightmares, Mabel meows herself back to sleep.”(30-31)
“Soos keeps candy in his belly button for emergencies.”(52-53)
“Stan was a baby model.” (69)
“The mayor of Gravity Falls is not long for this world.” (76-77)
“Wendy wishes she lived in Portland.” (80-81)
“The end of the world is closer than the end of the Summer.”(88-89)
“Something strange is buried under Gravity Falls.” (92-93)
“Time Baby is worried about Bill.” (94-95) (I talked a bit more about this one here.)
“Bud Gleeful wants to run for mayor.”(96-97)
“McGucket has seen terrible things.”(106-107)
“Grenda will marry Rich.”(108-109)
“That burnt tree by Soos’s house is odd.” (116-117)
“Soos writes fan fics about Stan.”(118-119)
“The Gnomes have a clear view of Northwest Manor.”(124-125)
“Dipper and Mabel’s father worked in computers.” (132-133)
“Robbie secretly draws anime.” (142-143)
“The invisible wizard keeps untying Dipper’s shoes.” (144-145)
“The government can be forgetful.” (148)
“Growing up is optional.” (150)
Now for Dipper’s codes:
“Trust no one.” (123)
“Robbie is a jerk.” (123)
“This is way more fun than going outside.” Writing codes, he means. (124)
“To get back at Mabel,Candy, and Grenda for their tickle attack, I’m going to put peanut butter in their socks!“ (131)
The next one is on Dipper’s Certificate of Mystery (151):
It’s missing it in this photo, but there’s a code surrounding it:
As you can hardly see, there some black letters mixed in with the blue ones. Those make up this: “DISNEYXD.COM/ARENTYOUCLEVER” which shows this:
[That code says,”You’re not as dumb as you seem…I’ve got some secrets if you know where to look. The people of this town are an open book…”]
The blue-lettered code on the certificate says: “By signing this official document, you are hereby agreeing to dedicate your life, your afterlife, and any potential clone-lives to the discovery, uncovery (Is that a word?), and exploration of the paranormal, the alter-average, and the extra-usual. When friends ask you to stop being paranoid, you will scoff. When they say that you’ve been acting really weird since you read that book and they don’t even recognize you anymore, that means they’re jealous/you are like me now. We are part of a higher calling. We will meet one day and on that glorious day we will show the small-minded doubters we were right all along, and are also really cool, and they should have been nicer to us. Okay that’s about it. This sort of sounds like a supervillain manifesto in retrospect. But you get the gist.”
Bonus! Gideon code in his letter to Mabel (Page 87):
The letters on the side read, “Help me escape or be destroyed.”
That’s about it. Remember, REALITYISANILLUSIONTHEUNIVERSEISAHOLOGRAMBUYGOLDBYYYYYE!
Star Trek, Beauty and the Beast, Fear Street, I want a hundred Funkos on my shelf and more shelves.
I'd also like a few dozen lockets and a good printing machine.
Every autistic person deserves infinite funds to be able to purchase items related to their special interests with
Brokeback Mountain probably stole this. Or this stole this from Brokeback Mountain. Not sure, but one em has their pockets fuller than when they walked in.
If it sounds like the composer is trying to blast you with the orchestra until you're as deaf as he is, it's Beethoven.
If it sounds like the composer might be a vampire, it's Bach.
If it sounds like the composer is trying to set the violins on fire, it's Vivaldi.
Hell yeah! Transness is no one way street and it ain't clear as a blue sky.
Your transness is whatever you want it to be with no care or concern towards others because they don't hold your soul. You do.
If an individual trans man did transition as a trauma response to misogyny, or a trans woman did identify as such because it's tied to her kinks, both of them would still be valid. Every reason for being trans is valid. When transphobes bring out those canards, we act like those are hideous things to be when we should be treating them like reductive stereotypes that are one of ten million different reasons someone might identify the way they do. Neither inherently undermines other trans people.
When you say "how dare you accuse me of being a disgusting faker like that" you're playing by transphobic society's rules. Do not believe that you can convince them your masculinity is truly destiny built into you from birth, or that your femininity is squeaky clean.
This potato better bring me a golden potato.
Growing up neurodivergent coupled with abuse (mainly emotional) definitely shaped the way I see myself gender wise and existing in general.
I felt like a frankenweenie of a person. A stitched up creature in the shape of a dog that wore a shirt and pants.
It felt like my main abuser, my creator, didn't want me to be a human. That for some reason other children were stitched up with love and fresh flesh in the shape of a human while I was stitched up and patched together with wooden screws and dead flesh in the shape of a dog. And when people asked what the smell was she always pointed to me as if I'd chosen to wear a rotten suit.
I sat stuffed with organs that didn't belong at the table with my creator and others like her and tried to pretend I was made up of the same stuff. Everyone tried to pretend too. But there's a difference between a human's company and a dog. My tail always hit the table in loud thumps until it fell off and I would crank my head to chew while everyone else ate normally. Something always ruined the already horrible disguise. And then the whole table would point out how truly horrible the disguise was. I would retreat to the ground with my ears folded in.
My creator wasn't afraid of telling me how the green mold and cracking of bones were becoming too much of a problem. Most days it felt like she had given up on even looking at me. She had a dog for a child and I knew myself that I was in no way better than a real child. I was a dog. No dog made up for a human. And no human wanted a dog for a child.
I see myself in the mirror and try to imagine a version of myself that's human. A womanly me, a manly me. But I still end up poking and shoving that dead flesh back into its stitch before I get dressed. I know I'm human. I know I'm human, but here's a disconnect between the words me and human.
(Most of my posts have been me talking about my experience with being neurodivergent and having cptsd since Tumblr for me is a place where a bunch of skrunkly humans join and be skrunkly humans for however long this site stands up so here's another post about that.)
Anyways, that's it for tonight I got to scroll all the way back through my last searched tag since my Tumble crashed.
No pronouns/one/ones 🧙🏽♂️🧙🏽♂️🧙🏽♂️🧙🏽♂️ 8teen & ⚫ & 🪶 📌 ⚧️queer & 🏳️⚧️ & aroace & poly & butch quality leftist 📌 🌚
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