This Is A Longshot, Would You Be Willing To Help Me Get My Insulin? I'm Down To My Last Pen And Its Pretty

There must be smthn seriously wrong w me to continuously attract people who want nothing to do with me past the skills of my mouth

i love you USPS I love you NASA i love you taxpayer funded services that actually contribute positively to society i love you libraries i love you public transport

Please help @alialhallag6

I am Ali, a 24_y-o from Gaza💔.

We were sleeping peacefully when suddenly the bombings shook everything around us, bringing back fear and terror. The war has returned, and there is no safe place for us. My family and children are struggling to survive, and hunger is consuming our bodies. I know asking for help is difficult, but I am helpless in front of my children's tears and their eyes begging for food. I’m sorry to trouble you, but you are my only hope after God. Any help, no matter how small, means life to us. My children send you their greetings, their eyes filled with hope. Please, do not leave us alone.💔

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-ali-survive-and-evacuate-gaza

✅️Vetted by ,my number ( #373 )✅️

i think a lot of liberals need to confront the fact that they don’t actually believe everyone should have basic human rights. a homeless person could call me every slur under the sun and i would still want them to have housing, food, etc. the belief that everyone is entitled to basic human rights should not hinge on whether you “like” someone or not. at that point the entire ideology crumbles.

A Small Step, But Still a Step Forward" 💙✨

Every day feels like a battle—against loss, against despair, against the uncertainty of tomorrow.

But today, we’ve reached $1,580 out of our $90,000 goal. It may not seem like much, but to us, it means hope. It means someone is listening.

The journey is long, and the need is great. But every share, every kind word, and every bit of support reminds us that we are not alone.

💙 If you can, please help us move forward.

Chuffed

Donate to Help Mosab saving who's left of his family

My name is Mosab Elderawi, and I am a survivor of the war in Gaza. Life as I knew it has been completely destroyed. I have lost my home, my

🙏 I deeply appreciate your time and support. If this tag disturbed you in any way, I sincerely apologize. Please feel free to ignore this post if it doesn’t feel right for you.

✅️ Vetted by ✅️

@gazavetters

@bilal-salah0

Thank you for believing in us. Your kindness gives us strength. ❤️

Here are a few back to back. I will section them. These were written within the past 3 months. Pls be forgiving if there are errors. These were written in my notes app initially.

The Lamb

There was a blind lamb

That screamed and wailed for it's mother

For three days

For three nights

The lamb continued to wail with its eyes wide open

Scanning the endless night frantically

Unaware that it's calls were being answered by an empty, motionless field

Rather than who it needed

Monster in the Closet

I have always been afraid of the dark

I require a dimly lit, slowly overheating lamp to sleep

As late into the evening a monster stands in my doorway

It's back long and unending

Spikes stick out every angle of its head

It stands in semi-silence

Staring

I feel it's eyes upon me as I rest

In naught but a shirt

But my peripheral tells me that there is no monster

Just my mother, getting home from work

You Should Have Called Out

I made myself look pretty today

Just because you told me to

I did my hair, my makeup, ans a nice outfit

All before it was time to go

The only thing I hadn't done was greeted u when you arrived

Because you hadn't

Not yet at least

I sat on my bed with a wrinkle free comforter

But then it had been a while so I laid down

But when I woke up I was still alone and fully dressed

I couldn't smell my perfume anymore and my shirt was wrinkled

But I still waited

And fell asleep again, hungry

The Inability to Read Between the Lines

I'm sorry for whatever I have done to annoy you today

For talking to you too much

For speaking too loudly

For not being born a boy

I'm sorry mommy please don't yell at me

All I wanted was a hug

You won't look my way otherwise

So csn I have my hug?

How much more must I do before I am forgiven of the sins I've never been aware of?

How much longer must I wait on my knees for your judgment, mother?

What is so wrong with me that you csnt bear to even speak of it

URGENT HELP SAVE THE LIFE OF MY CHILD.

Dear humanity,

Please Help Me – My Son May Die at Any Moment.

I'm Amal, a mother of three children, living under the weight of the genocide taking place in Gaza. 🍉

Here’s my story, and I’m reaching out with a hopeful heart 💔✨, hoping someone will feel what my family and I are going through.

My son is suffering from a severe and life-threatening injury after being shot by Israeli drones. He urgently needs medical treatment outside Gaza.

Time is running out, and we are facing a critical situation. I am asking for your generosity to help us save him either through a donation or by sharing this urgent plea with others

I beg you, i kiss your feet, to help my son. My son may die at any moment.

I lost most of my family. I'm afraid to lose my son too 🥺

Mohammed deserves to live a happy and healthy life, just like every other child on this earth.

So I humbly ask you to donate even a little or at least reblog this appeal.

Please Donate now:👇

https://gofund.me/d272a0d1

Ddonate Via Paypal 👇

https://www.paypal.com/donate

PLEASE DONATE 🗣‼️

My family is still staying in half of the church that wasn’t affected by the bombing because there is nowhere else to stay other than tents. They are limited to one small meal a day and one shower a week. They are sleeping on the floors, but no one can sleep since there is bombing everywhere around them. Even when there is no bombing, they can still hear the loud buzzing sound of the military planes above them, which would keep anyone who hears it awake. Along with everything, My grandma has diabetes and osteoporosis, so she can’t walk. She has to take her insulin medication along with many others; however, she has run out of many of her medications.” Am on my knees requesting for donation. Target $450

Please donate 🗣‼️

Hello. Here is smthn written and posted on the same day. Tw: metaphorical violence and cannibalism. (I promise it's not that bad I swear) Please enjoy.

You know, i shoud really stop extending my hand to people. What do i mean? I mean extending it open palmed and vulnerable and stretching my muscles to their limits just to reach someone or have them reach for me.

It hurts. The stretch, I mean. Pulling my fingers apart, tearing the sinue in an attmept to reach someone who has barely moved their hand from the body at all.

Now stretching isnt all that bad. Keeps the body nimble, less resistant to change or sudden movement. The main reason i want to stop is because they cut a piece of my arm off each time I reach.

Not every time, but when the person doesnt reach back they keep a piece of me. As a trophy or to embarass me further I cant decide.

Currently im missing everything past my left elbow. But thats only bc the first person i reached to took my entire hand in one go. My right arm is missing everything a little before that point.

It hurts even more when i was expecting to leave that situation with the same amount of arm i began it with.

But no.

Instead these beautiful women take dull cleavers and aimlessly hack at my arm until the piece they want has fallen off. It takes a while for my nerves to decide they were tired of feeling that intense ache.

Ive gotten used to it. The first time it hurt. I squirmed and fought back and called for help but was disregarded. This woman had called herself my girlfriend, my wife, my love. For months ! And now here she was taking my hand.

But now, as i watch blood spurt out of my stump and land on my face and hear my bones cracking and tendons screaming as she takes her earnings. She took earnings for the girl she actually wanted too.

Whats left is my shoulder to above where my elbow was on both arms. It hurts, the wound hasnt cauterized and my nerves are remidning me of my loss.

My face is wet too. I think im crying. I havent done that since the first time. But, i will get over it. I always do.

The wound crusts over and falls away, revealing my new skin and shorter stump. The pain subsides but it returns for a body part i no longer have. Almost like my body misses it.

I learn to live without those things lost. I learn to eat, feed, read, dress, clean, please with my stumps. And im miserable. And awful. And anxiety ridden. Worrying about if someone will soon return and take whats left of me. What will they do once they reach my shoulder ? Keep cutting ? Dig inside the stump for pieces of flesh and organ from the source rather than bothering with my skin, a reminder that im human.

The only constant is that they or she or he will stuff their maws of my meat and savagley lick away the remnants of me with a hand over my mouth to not spoil the meal (or to hide from the reminder that im unwilling, displeased, and alive). Only to discard me with less than i began with. Which already wasnt much.

And yet. I always find myself reaching a short time later. Always needing something that seems to be forever out of reach.

I call this one: makeup. I wrote it today. Please enjoy if u see fit

Every single day I cover up my eyebags with concealer and layer black poweder and liner underneath 

Its to express myself, ill say 

I just like how it makes me look, ill claim

When in reality, i lokk the same without it 

The deepness of my eye bags with mascara on top makes it seem purposeful

A testament and a statement on the consequences of an idealistic, capitalist society 

The reality is that i dont want anyone to know how little i sleep

I dont want them to know for certsin that these are not manmade scars, but the remants of a night spent working 

Authentic, non generic, carved from labor, red bull, and yawns 

I dont want them to know that despite my best efforts the eye bags are reaching farther than my makeup can cover 

Theyre in my muscle, bone, and sinue 

Four layers of concealer, setting powder and foundstion will never be enough to shake the fatigue from my skin 

Some days, i dont wear makeup as i have foolishly decided that hiding my emotions is a stupid decision and the world must know what its done to my face 

Yet

I always end the day covered in foundstion and blush because those around me can see right through me 

How are you, theyll say 

When was the last time you slept, theyll ask, meaning well, but all it really does is remind me that ill never be able to escape the hollow feeling inside of me that can only be filled with maybelline, a monster, ans maybe a warm meal