Alright, I've been biting my tongue - longer than most in my shoes would.
But something has to give, because I come to tumblr as a means of escape, but it appears that I need to make this post for anyone who wants to listen to an Iranian voice.
I am Iranian.
90% of my family is in Iran.
This regime massacred over 46,000 unarmed protestors - even mothers and children just passing by - on January 8th-9th using anti-material bullets. Even breaking into hospitals and delivering the killing shot to wounded protestors strapped to their hospital beds. They imported foreign terrorists from neighbouring countries due to being low on IRGC guards.
There wasn't even a SINGLE post going around about the massacre. The silence was deafening - and now seeing posts about how much people supposedly care now for Iranians gettting killed...spare us.
Imagine losing 46,000 of your own countrymen in 2 days.
I had lost a loved one during that massacre.
I go onto sites like reddit and now here where people are PRAISING these murderers - disregarding the lived trauma of Iranians - in order to disparage the current sitting president. Do you know what that does to a person? To be disregarded and see people glazing your family and countrymen's murderers
Families were made to pay for the bullets fired at their children, before they were able to recieve the bodies the basij held hostage.
This illegitimate mafia regime will NOT leave by normal means. They worship death and they only understand death. They didn't even build bomb shelters for civilians. They used the money to build missile cities, fund terror proxies, and their hedonistic lifestyles.
They follow an apocalyptic cult and it is in their doctrine that they can't surrender, even if they wanted to.
I'm struggling to even write this because I feel my words are wasted, that even if I go in front of some and cry tears of blood, that my words will not reach them. They have done so many evil things that my thumbs will bleed and blister by the time I'm done writing them all so far. Hell, did you know that your Cloud was actually arrested and sent to jail with "re-education lessons" because my 15-year-old self thought it'd be a good idea to have multi painted nails. That was in 2007 and the arrest was carried out by the "Morality Police". Google Mahsa Amini and you'll see that I got lucky.
If you want to know what's happening - ask an Iranian. Don't get outraged on behalf of us, because if the IRGC regime (btw the I in IRGC doesn't even have the name "Iran" in it), if they didn't cut off the internet AND phone lines during war time for 90 million iranians, then they would tell you this:
Living under the Islamic regime is a fate worse than death. The only people with internet access in Iran are either people with smuggled Starlink devices (authorities finding that out leads to arrests and executions), and White SIM Card owners which are given to pro regime mouthpieces across the country.
If it were any other country or government ridding this once-great country of these demons, don't you think we would've been enduring whatever comes next all the same, if it means living in a country without these murderers? Iran is not Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya, etc. It is Iran. And I have every hope in my heart that an exile like myself will be able to celebrate Nowruz in Tehran next year.
Metrics show Iran's has entered the 39th day of an internet blackout that has been in place for over 912 hours.
The Lore-accurate scale of Imperial City.
Recreated by L.Torres (Lion Towers3d) in Unreal Engine 5.
Full Imperial City video (which I wholeheartedly recommend) here.
When I was 15 I was very negative. Of course I was, I was 15.
But I noticed I was negative. And I didn't like it. I didn't like the way it felt inside to be me, and to live like me, with all those negative thoughts all the time.
I had read somewhere that you could train yourself to be happier. That you needed to force yourself to think positive thoughts, until it became a habit.
I remember those few months of high school where I used to catch myself mentally complaining about something, and then forcing myself to find something positive to think about the person or situation. Again, and again, and again.
And it worked.
It became easier. And I became lighter. It was just nicer to be me, to live my life, to navigate through my days. I still remember the moment I noticed my life had become brighter.
And decades later, it still works. The muscle is still there. Now I know the word is neuroplasticity.
But at the time, it was just a 15 years old girl who was tired to be in the dark all the time, so she made light in her own brain.
