If you can't find me on Tumblr, forgive me, I might die these days. Every day gets worse than the day before. Some money can make me live in peace....
Share and share thank you all
https://gofund.me/ed6e9cb6
🛤
Idk if people post edits on tumblr but I will, I know I’ve lacked art but I have SO MUCH COMING!! It’s just cuz I’ve been getting editing ideassss
I will be back on my art grind, well I’m technically on it but YAKNOW I’ll post more
Αlso sprite!!!
I will not return to Gaza and my destroyed home anytime soon, as I do not own a car and have no one to take me. Therefore, my children and I will remain in the abandoned school, bidding farewell to everyone and watching their joy as they return.
How will I return with my belongings?
My home was completely destroyed, and I have no means of transportation. If I must return on foot, how can I leave behind my children's blankets, sleeping mats, and everything we own?
Frustration consumes me.
I don’t know what I will do on the day of return. It is exhausting and deeply worrying for me and my children.
My campaign is completely halted.
I am considering closing it, but I hope to reach 80,000 to manage my affairs. I want to travel, as I no longer have a home to return to, nor an education to secure my children’s future.
If you can feel what we are going through,
Please help us with your support and give us a chance to start anew.
Donation link: campaign link
Every post about intrusive thoughts needs at least 10 people per day to reblog it derailing and saying "it's ok to have intrusive thoughts so long as they're not about violence or sexual acts but instead perhaps a witch trying to solve the disappearance of her neighbour's cat in a small village in the Alps..."
You don't imagine how support can help my family secure basic needs in these difficult situations and famine .🙏🏻🙏🏻
Now I ask that you please share their story and donate if you can bc they're very low on funds!
🙏Please donate and share my story with everyoneWe need your help, no matter how small
23rd of Ramadan.
We were hoping to enjoy some safety… But we didn't even get to enjoy a little safety before the war, which never really ended, was renewed.
It was renewed after two months of "rest" that was nothing more than a pause in the bloodshed. It was renewed after two months of "rest" during which the crossings were not opened and the siege continued. It was renewed after two months of "rest" during which they took what they wanted from Gaza and then resumed the bombing and destruction. Yesterday, they besieged more than 50,000 displaced people in the west of Rafah, abusing them and carrying out massacres.
The children who were waiting for Eid… were martyred. The sound of bombing, displacement, and homelessness never leaves us.
Gaza itself is tired… tired… tired. So what about its people and its families?
We are tired of the bombing, the destruction, the displacement. We haven't even recovered from the last displacement, and now we have to leave our homes again, which we haven't even had time to rebuild? Are they going to destroy them again after the hope we had? We are tired of greedy merchants, tired of the lack of food. Imagine that in the month of Ramadan, I fast from food for 12 hours, and my main meal is hummus or sometimes rice.
We are very tired… And we need you so much in a way I've never felt before in my life. We need you more than at the beginning of the war because the war has returned even stronger than before!! Support at gofundme Link
You can also donate via PayPal
To donate via USDT or Zelle, contact DM
@gothhabiba @schoolhater @g0at0ad @wherethatoldtraingoes2
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"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
I fell asleep in my friends' arms. It was eleven at night, we were tired, curled up in a small pile on my tiny bed. I had my head buried in my roommate's side, and one of my closest friend's hand on my shoulder, steadying me. It was quiet and nothingness and peace and their heartbeats in my ears, my hands in their hair.
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
We pack four people to that little bed, you know. Laps used as footrests, collarbones as pillows, little lights like moonlight in rustic yellow bathed on their faces. The TV plays an anime. The words are repeated by my dear friend on my shoulder, curled close. My legs are asleep; my roommate may be, too.
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
The cat curls on top of our criss cross mess of legs and arms and heads on chests to absorb the warmth of us all. She purrs in contented peace. When my roommate and I are left alone in the quiet, she cries, and watches the door for our friends' return.
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
I will never kiss them but the top of their heads. I will never touch but the warmth of their arms. I will never take more than what's freely given, and in return I put my glasses on the bedside table fashioned from a guitar amp, and when I lean into their sides, I pick up my vulnerability and place it in their capable, tender hands.
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
I sing for them. I cry for them. I work and I run and I withstand the worst of the world for them, because some days I get to cradle their forehead on my shoulder and some days I get to see their shining eyes.
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
Maybe to you. But look beyond explanation. I love them. With my heart in my unsteady hands, with my nose pressed to the side of their head, with the buzzing in my feet and the warmth all around Iike the sunset pushing into the window.
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
Is it enough to say I love them? With no strings attached? With reckless abandon and utter devotion and freedom and kindness and fear?
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
I cannot explain it any clearer. I love my friends. There is no more to say.
Nabil Al-Anqar, the head of the Al-Anqar family (14 people, 8 adults 6 children) needs emergency surgery. Prices of gas in Gaza have raised to €50 a kilo, so burning wood has become a greater necessity. While sawing wood to keep his family warm, Nabil sliced his hand open on a rotating handsaw.
Several tendons in his hand were severed, and as a result he cannot move his fingers. The operation to reattach the tendons is €700. This is a high amount but not an impossible goal for us to raise for this family. It is crucial that we raise this money to give Nabil his mobility back so he can provide for his family in this time of severe conditions.
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