the centre of every poem is this: i have loved you, i have had to deal with that
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Bobappt - Tenderhearted - Tumblr Blog
Help the family of a martyred Palestinian journalist
Do you remember the martyred journalist, Ayat Khadoura?
(Original video from Ayat's instragram)
(Another video from Ayat you may remember seeing)
Her sister Ghadeer, and Ghadeer's children, who are still surviving in Ghazzah, need our help!
As of posting this, the GoFundMe has only reached €1,875 donations in the last couple of months; and that is to feed five people when a kilo if rice is upwards of $20. Last time my girlfriend @yetanotherlesbianonthiswebsite, one of Ghadeer's sisters, spoke to her, she said that it was never enough, and that they were experiencing extreme hunger. The situation is so serious that the number of donations coming in corresponds to being barely able to afford soap, of which one bottle has shot up to $50.
Ghadeer often writes my girlfriend about how tired she is, how scared she is about hearing the bombs fall. Recently, a school in which many people had taken refuge in Deir El-Balah mere blocks away from her was bombed by occupation forces. Can you imagine the pain of a family who cannot bury its sisters, brothers, aunts, and uncles, because their bodies are in pieces beneath rubble? Can you imagine how it feels to have more murdered siblings than living ones? Can you imagine the pain of a mother who hears their children scream? Can you imagine the pain of a family who sees the once young and happy girl become nothing but skin and bones? And yet, no genocide can last forever, and we desperately need your help to get them through this.
For anyone wondering, the GoFundMe is directly linked on Ayat's Instagram account, administrated in memoriam by Yasmin, one of the sisters, who is also the organizer of the fundraiser. (Yasmin is directly mentioned in the shared video from WaPo, as proof.)
I am asking everyone who sees this to PLEASE SHARE and also, if you can, PLEASE DONATE! Every little bit helps when it is a matter of life and safety on the line.
A few family photos are below.
Martyred siblings, Ayat, Ayoub, Suad, Alaa, and Adam, as well as Ghadeer's martyred grandparents:
Two of Ghadeer's children, Fida and Aed:
Despite everything, they shared the little food they had with a furry visitor:
it should be illegal to take a nap and still have a headache when you wake up. like no i shut it off and back on again why are you still here
ARE YOU SHITTING ME
solar eclipse in libra has happened ... maybe i can finally heal
sorry for being indecisive, I haven’t had any prophetic dreams to guide me in a while
people act as if being ‘healed’ is an achievable state a person can be in idk this world is literally sick and poison and I think if ur not a bit fucked up in one way or another you’re probably really privileged and/or an oppressor I think all we can do is try our best to be a good person
2024
And if you missed a day, there was always the next, and if you missed a year, it didn’t matter, the hills weren’t going anywhere, the thyme and rosemary kept coming back, the sun kept rising, the bushes kept bearing fruit—
Louise Glück
Peaceful Embrace by Briony Marshall, 2015.
Louise Glück, from The Encounter
"do it scared" ok but I would like to do something some other way occasionally. Like at least once. For a change.
"The Unbearable Lightness of Being", Milan Kundera (translated by Michael Henry Heim)
bingewatching will never come close to bingereading. there is nothing like blocking out the entire Earth for ten hours to read a book in one sitting no food no water no shower no bra and emerging at the end with no idea what time it is or where you are, a dried-up prune that's sensitive to light and loud noises because you've been in your room in the dark reading by the glow of a single LED. it's like coming back after a three-month vacation in another dimension and now you have to go downstairs and make dinner. absolutely transcendental
why are you weird
be more specific
there are so many people out there i'll never get the chance of missing, by virtue of never knowing
