TAROT CARDS ✴ THE WITCHER

Never give up

, my little girl is suffering from seizures, her condition is very difficult and she is having trouble breathing, and he needs your help,😔

please don't leave me alone.🙏🙏

You are my only hope to help me save my little son so that I can travel and treat my son. Please don't leave my child alone and donate what you can You are our only hope🙏🤲

https://gofund.me/f8b4915c

gofundme.com

Donate to Please help save my family, organized by Abdelmutei Alhabil

I am the citizen Abdel Muti Al-Habil, a resident of Gaza. I am 26 years old. My wife i… Abdelmutei Alhabil needs your support for Please h

@90-ghost @el-shab-hussein @sayruq @nabulsi @neptunerings @flower-tea-fairies @appsa @a-shade-of-blue @sar-soor @moayesh @commissions4aid-international @paper-mario-wiki @dlxxv-vetted-donations @just-browsing1222 @writerqueenofjewels @the-ballerina-battle @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @girlinafairytale @khanger @schoolhater @soon-palestine @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @maoistyuri @dykesbat @acepumpkinpatrick @thetownwecallhome @tsaricides @feluka @brutaliakhoa @kordeliiius @queerstudiesnatural @the-bastard-king @aria-ashryver @malcriada @vakarians-babe @bat-luun @mangocheesecakes @violetlyra @nightowlssleep @self-hating-zionist @staretes @friendshapedplant @yokohama-crackhouse @omiteo777 @heritageposts

this year while we all celebrate pride month and celebrate ourselves as well as those who came before us and paved the way for us to do so, we must also think of those in gaza, queer or not, who live every day under a brutal occupation and don’t have that same privilege. happy pride, and may we see a free palestine in this lifetime.

The IDF is currently invading the West Bank, the largest since 2002.

The IDF is already attacking hospitals in the West Bank

Trapped Family in Gaza Appeals for Help to Survive🥹🍉

Hello, I am Asmaa - a young soul with a heart full of flexibility and a spirit that does not back down in the face of challenges.🙏🙏🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Asmaa to continue school outside of gaza, organized by Asmaa Majed

In the bustling world, amidst the chaos and uncertainties, let me introduce … Asmaa Majed needs your support for Help Asmaa to continue scho

Suffering in obtaining food and how to prepare food in light of the lack of the most basic necessities of life🙏🙏😭😭🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉

The suffering of displacement and living in tents after the destruction of the house, my father losing his job, and the difficulty of life in tents, as if living in a heat oven.😭😭🙏🙏🍉🍉

Destroying all features of life in Gaza and destroying the university is a loss of passion in achieving my dream😭😭🙏🙏🍉🍉🇵🇸🇵🇸

I ask you to help donate, spread the campaign link, and support the page in order to identify life’s difficulties and provide the simplest things of daily life, such as eating and drinking

@sayruq @el-shab-hussein @90-ghost @nabulsi

@sar-soor @appsa @northgazaupdates2 @aria-ashryver @timetravellingkitty @briarhips

@dirhwangdaseul @mahoushojoe @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @khanger

@commissions4aid-international @kibumkim @wellwaterhysteria @deepspaceboytoy @neechees @kyri45 @mangocheesecakes @marnota @7biases @tortiefrancis @fromjannah

@criptochecca @omegaversereloaded @ot3

@vague-humanoid @lacecap @yugiohz @nibeul

currently at €215 / €35, 000 (02/09/24)

EXTREMELY LOW FUNDS

please donate if you can! please boost & reblog!

Hello my friends, 🇵🇸

My name is Sami, a father of two daughters. Before the war, we had a happy life in Gaza, with a home and a small business. But the war has torn everything apart 💔. Our home was destroyed, and we have been displaced multiple times, moving from Gaza City to Rafah and now to Deir Al-Balah 🇵🇸, where we live in a small tent with no basic necessities.

Our car was destroyed 🚗💥, leaving us without transportation, and we have no financial resources to sustain us. We are waiting for the Rafah crossing to open so we can escape this deadly war 🕊️, but until then, we need your help.

Please, if you can, donate to help my family survive and rebuild our lives .

Link to our campaign on Gofoundme :

gofundme.com

Donate to Help me build a new life for my family and get out of Gaza, organized by Zain Sami

"Help Sami and His Daughters: Donate to Save a Family Displaced b… Zain Sami needs your support for Help me build a new life for my family a

currently at $7, 166 / $50, 000

please donate if you can! please boost & reblog!

Please stop and listen to our painful story and help me save the family 🇵🇸🇵🇸

Help me get my father and mother out and secure their lives

The story of my father and mother who suffered from illness and lived under the wall of a tent

“The tent was their only shelter. Its winter wall was made of threadbare fabric that did not protect them from the cold or summer heat. Inside, they were lying on a thin mattress, two defeated bodies suffering from diabetes and high blood pressure. They woke up every day to the sound of chronic pain and dreams. That relaxes with every breath.

gofundme.com

Donate to Please Save What's Left of My Family, organized by Marleen Tipu

Hello my dears, I hope you are well. Please help me. I, Mahmoud Baalou, have gon… Marleen Tipu needs your support for Please Save What's

currently at €6, 197 / €20, 000

please donate if you can! please boost & reblog!

Hello,,

My name is Fatima Alanqar, I am 30 years old, and my husband Bilal Dader is 33. We are parents to five children: Yazan (12), Fadl (11), Zina (10), Rajaa (7), and our baby girl Basma, who is just a year and a half old.

My lovely family

gofundme.com

Donate to Support Fatima's Family in Gaza After Heartbreaking Tragedy, organized by Fatima Alanqar

Hello,, My name is Fatima Alanqar, I am 30 years old, an… Fatima Alanqar needs your support for Support Fatima's Family in Gaza After H

We live in Tal AlHawa, Gaza. In the early days of the war, we were forced to flee our home after it was completely destroyed by occupation forces with fire and missiles. Our car was also burned down to a heap of metal, and all our clothes were burned too. We have been displaced 17 times, each time escaping death by a miracle. We walked long distances on foot with our children who struggled to keep up, driven by fear to escape danger.

After years of effort and construction for our house, then one day and one night everything vanished

My children's mental health has been shattered. They have suffered immensely from fear, displacement, and homelessness, with barely enough food and water to feed a small cat. They have endured carrying water over long distances throughout the day, surrounded by destruction, rockets, and shrapnel. They were deprived of continuing their education, despite being top students.

One of those times when we had to sleep in our previously destroyed house, a missile landed on us and, by God’s grace, it did not explode.

My children have been deprived of the food they love and need for their bodies and minds to grow, enduring constant fear and terror day and night for 10 months without any peace or rest. We also contracted many diseases, including hepatitis and skin infections due to the lack of water and hygiene supplies in overcrowded shelters and sometimes in our destroyed home :( . We were also forced to stay completely still for periods ranging from 3 to 7 days due to the ongoing siege, drinking contaminated water out of fear of the tanks around us.

Our car was not spared from the bombing either

The children's rooms were completely burned...

Some members of my family were martyred, and others were injured. Fear, crying, and sadness fill the place.

We once had all the comforts and basic tools for a decent life, but now we have lost everything. We cook our food over open fires despite the exhaustion and heat, and we barely manage to get flour, water, and firewood. Yet we remain resilient in northern Gaza despite the bombing, hunger, and severe shortages of water, medicine, and necessary supplies.

And now, that's all we have

I was even forced to wean my year-and-a-half-old daughter due to the lack of milk :( .

We are displaced and homeless, continuously moving from one place to another until this dreadful war ends.

My heart breaks for her.... :

We are in desperate need of your help. We invite you to contribute to this fund to save my family and provide us with a safe shelter, food, water, and healthcare for all of us. Please share our story with your friends and family to raise awareness and support. Your words and prayers give us the strength to endure these difficult circumstances.

Your donation, no matter how small, can make a big difference in our lives. We rely on your support and standing by us during this tough time. Together, we can restore hope and safety for Fatima and her family.

gofundme.com

Donate to Support Fatima's Family in Gaza After Heartbreaking Tragedy, organized by Fatima Alanqar

Hello,, My name is Fatima Alanqar, I am 30 years old, an… Fatima Alanqar needs your support for Support Fatima's Family in Gaza After H

With deepest gratitude from your faithful friend,

Fatima and Family

Hello

My name is Hana ,from Gaza

Can you help me please 🙏

Me and my family have lost our house and everything

Now we got nothing after the war so please help me and thank you in advance https://gofund.me/9e5573e7

still currently at €5 / €30, 000 (02/09/24)

EXTREMELY LOW FUNDS

please donate if you can! please boost & reblog!

note: still yet to be vetted

Anger

I had a breakdown again earlier today.

Like something hot and red and ugly and just so much hatred with no target to shoot it on. For some reason I thought is this how Jason Todd had felt? Or maybe is this how Bruce Wayne felt once he grew up and realized how on earth does people like Joe Chill can get away with so little and he in that one night, lost everything he knew?

With so much hatred and anger and just this huge hole in your heart that felt more like it was ripped away from you rather than just being taken? Is this how being angry at the world feels like? Angry at everything that has happened? Is this how craving for vengeance feels like?

I remember being told that revenge has a smell and it is sweet, and almost dizzying like an aphrodisiac.

I remember clutching the front of my shirt and felt how stuck my scream felt in my throat and I can’t just scream it out with my brother across the hallway and my sister downstairs.

I can’t do this, I can’t keep this in, I can’t keep on doing this.

I remember a time we were told that the whole family has anger issues.

Dad is a bomb, ticking and ticking with the time always border lining on 0 every time he tries to pushes us too far to the edge and he seems eager for us to push him back in retaliation.

Mom keeps it in until something bad & ugly & stupid & disrespectful happens from us, and there comes the screams and the glares and the disappointment.

My brother’s anger is physical, he hits you and pulls in some punches just to make you hurt the same way he does.

My sister’s anger is physical as well, but in the way it’s childish because still, she is still a child.

More often than not, her anger pushes dad’s clock to 0 as well and that will sometimes reign in Mom’s disappointment and if it isn’t her pushing it to explode, it will be my brother’s idea of rebellious retaliation.

And I’ll stand there.

Just a soldier, standing still in the minefield as the shots keep flying and the bombs kept giving way.

Silence become my defense as it was never really my weapon.

And growing up with the understanding how much power and destruction a bomb can hold, well I know how dangerous a wrath’s path can be.

So, I reign it in. So, I push every single pure, pure anger that threatens to boil to the surface.

My grief sometimes overcome my anger I think, enough so that I forgot that I can be angry sometimes.

My anger, I think, is physical as well.

My anger, I think, is the opposite of who I fights to become.

My anger, I think, is not a bomb, or a silent glare or a bursting scream.

My anger creeps in, my knuckles throb with every poison that rushes through my vein.

I don’t get angry, I don’t, I won’t, I never.

I don’t get angry because if I do, I don’t know how I’ll face the aftermath of it.

I can feel it, when it pulses, when it tries to fight through the restraints. I can feel it when my veins are filled with adrenaline and the want, the need to just, hurt. I can feel it and I know it’s there ‘because I can feel my eyes harden, I can feel my legs muscle constrict with the will to run towards the anger itself, I can feel my grip tightens around on itself ‘because I want to hit and punch and injure and hurt, hurt, hurt.

And I buries it in.

I learn to let out the insults because it soothes the fire but if you’ve been trapping the flames in an oxygen cavity and keep adding to it without ever giving it a chance to see the light of day, a verbal fight does little to calm it.

I learn that after letting out the insults, to give it time, time to turn it into guilt and grief instead.

Dr K thinks that what I’m doing might as well be the equivalent of driving a brake-less car down the hill only to run into an explosion then crashes down into the ocean with nowhere to escape out of the car.

Like letting in the adrenaline rushes through you only to trap everything in and let it consumes you.

I’ve told her that the analogy was exaggerative, I think.

I’ve crashed at the moment now.

I think it’s ironic that I used the rain and the sound of the crashing waves to calm me down.

I hate being angry.

I hate it because it isn’t me but it proves that it’s a primal instinct of mine when I didn’t bother with my mask.

All of us have masks.

I’ve seen Dad used it around his colleagues or when the topic of Grandpa comes up or when Grandma was talking about her time just around the corner.

I’ve seen Mom used it around her ‘friends’, true or not, and I’ve seen it around us when she’s far too tired and she’s far too aware of her greying hair.

I’ve seen my brother using it the most around us, never being able to settle into his skin even with those who he should trust the most.

I’ve seen it with my sister, the way she brushes off any signs of emotional vulnerability other than irritation ‘because she thought everybody would use it as a weapon against her intelligence.

I’ve seen it in the mirror of the 5-star bathroom at school, the one everybody goes to because it’s the only ones that works. Most of the time, anyways.

I’ve seen it on my friends and I’ve seen it crumbles in the anticipation of days leading up to what was the most important event of our lives as high school students back then.

Someone asked me, if I’ve cried it yet, implying if I’ve succumbed to the world-heavy pressure of the future yet. If I’ve sat down and bawled my eyes out as I realized how short on time we always seemed.

I told them, no.

There are a few strays of tears I’ve let past in the days leading up to it but I know if I sat down properly and let it out – I don’t know how much it’ll take for me to stand up again. Or if I’m ever strong enough for it anyways.

I hate grief.

And I hate my anger even more.

And as my vision blurs with the tears in my eyes that I won’t let out, and my knuckles are white as I grip the box holding in the razors tightly – I wish, I wish I never knew how safe and suffocating a mask can feel.