usamerican soldier STUNNED into silence when he learns that his willing and paid participation in the murder and neocolonization of foreign people is a huge red flag to everyone with a conscience
usamerican civilian stunned to learn that justifying and defending this willing and paid participation (even tho it's the only way to go to college/get a job/whatever nice thing that is apparently worth more than other people's lives and freedoms) is an equally huge red flag fr fr fr
Trans activist Jamison Green's passport photos before and after HRT. Left he's age 32 (1980) Right age 41 (1989) after being on testosterone for one year (x)
updated the link to his autobiography because it was broken! here's some more pictures of him (first is mid 90s, second 2013 and last 2024)
there's an interview with him from 2017 along with some information about his life and activism. and he was interviewed on a podcast here. he's not super well known but has been a really important trans activist for decades
You should be starting a recipe book. I don't give a shit if you're only 20-years-old. The modern web is rotting away bit by bit before our very eyes. You have no idea when that indie mom blog is going down or when Pinterest will remove that recipe. Copy it down in a notebook, physically or digitally. Save it somewhere only you can remove it. Trust me, looking for a recipe only to find out it's been wiped off the internet is so fucking sad. I've learned my lesson one too many times.
If this page suddenly goes silent one day, know that my brother Samer didn’t make it. I will never forget those who saw him suffering from severe bombing injuries, lacking his vital medications, yet chose silence and kept scrolling.
I feel completely shattered and deeply ashamed begging strangers for help every single day. This endless nightmare has stripped us of everything, forcing me to sacrifice even my own dignity just to keep my brother and my family alive.
I want nothing from this world except to see Samer healthy and free of pain, and to save my family from this slow death. Please donate so we can afford his essential psychiatric and medical treatments before it’s too late.
Friends, thank you so much for the massive support and these 15 recent donations!
While this high engagement gives us hope, we deeply wish to see more donations matching this incredible reach. Our lives and Samer's survival depend entirely on your financial help. Please keep this momentum going.
Thank you so much for the 12 additional donations! My family consists of 12 people. We have already lost my father and my brother to this war, and we cannot afford to lose Samer.
36 kind souls proved my family of 12 are humans, not just numbers. But 36 drops cannot fill an ocean of urgent medical bills. Samer’s life depends on the next hand that reaches out. Please don't just scroll past. Help us keep his heart beating.
its probably a normal sign for the economy that all of my adulthood fantasies are like "imagine having your own kitchen living room and bathroom to decorate" "what if i could get on a train" "maybe one day i could purchase a sturdy pair of shoes" "i should save and invest in a single bicycle"
It seems that the Tumblr team has no other purpose than to delete, close, and attack the accounts of transgender people and Palestinians trying to survive genocide and ethnic cleansing in Gaza.
Two days ago, I was shocked to find that my blog, abdalsalam2000, had been deleted without warning and without me having done anything wrong, simply because I was asking for help from the Tumblr community. That blog was our only source of income that kept us alive in Gaza, and unfortunately, it was deleted by Tumblr employees.
In Gaza, we need at least $300 a day just to survive. After Tumblr deleted our account, this blog is all I have left. I hope you will help me by sharing this post, donating, and following this blog. Please, please help us and donate now.
Hey everyone, the last donation was two days ago, and this post has been shared by almost 400 people, yet not a single person has donated. I'm begging you to share this post and donate now. Please don't leave us alone, and don't hesitate to donate. Please!
Friends, thank you for sharing! Please continue sharing this post and donate. We need 994 euros to reach 5000. Please, please, please donate now! Our campaign has been verified by gazavetters and is number 4 on their list.
We are not just facing summer; we are living in a literal furnace here in Gaza. My four children (Hani, Diana, Bashar, and my nursing baby girl Habiba) have all contracted severe chickenpox
Imagine tiny, fragile bodies covered in painful blisters, trapped inside a suffocating tent where temperatures soar past 40°C (104°F). We have no clean water to wash them, no electricity, and not even a simple cooling fan or a battery light to tend to them during the pitch-black nights. The children scream all night from the unbearable itching and heat.
Due to the blockades, medications are extremely scarce and sold at imaginary prices that I cannot afford. I am completely penniless. Eid has passed, and we have no food, no money, and zero means of survival.
I beg you to save my children from this slow death. We desperately need immediate funds to buy their prescribed medicines, and to purchase a cooling fan and a lighting battery to ease the scorching heat burning their skin.
vetted by @gazavetters, and (#287) on their list of verified campaigns.
My name is Bethany-Grace, and I am the founder of The Gaza Giving Tree, a volunteer initiative dedicated to amplifying the voices of civilia
Where's it made? Who brought it here? How much were they paid? Who makes it? Is it made in separate parts and put together? How much were they all paid to do this? Where do they get the materials? Who paid for that? Who brings it there? How much were they paid? Who streamlined the base materials? How much were they paid? Who gathered the base materials? Where? How much were they paid? Is it good for them? Is it good for us? Is it good for the land? Is it necessary? Is it biodegradable? How much does it hurt? Do I need it? Do I even want it?
Where's it made? Who brought it here? How much were they paid? Who makes it? Is it made in separate parts and put together? How much were they all paid to do this? Where do they get the materials? Who paid for that? Who brings it there? How much were they paid? Who streamlined the base materials? How much were they paid? Who gathered the base materials? Where? How much were they paid? Is it good for them? Is it good for us? Is it good for the land? Is it necessary? Is it biodegradable? How much does it hurt? Do I need it? Do I even want it?
A mother's plea: Help us survive and protect my child who was born in war.
My name is Sahar. Like any young woman, I dreamed of a stable and happy life. I was engaged to Mohammad, and together, we dreamed of building a warm little home where we could start our life. We spent years preparing our house, but just before our wedding, everything was destroyed in an instant by the war.
I was faced with a choice: to leave Mohammad in the midst of this chaos or to stand by him and begin our journey together, no matter how difficult it might be. I chose him. We got married, not in the dream wedding I had envisioned, but under the harsh reality of war. Our new home became a fragile tent, offering neither comfort nor security.
After we got married, I received the news that I was pregnant with my daughter, and I live in constant fear for my unborn child. I am terrified of the world she will be born into—a world of poverty, hunger, and bitter cold. We have been displaced from our home more than nine times, carrying with us nothing but the burden of loss and the hope of survival. The house we dreamed of is now rubble, and the tent we live in barely protects us from the rain and cold.How will I protect my daughter? We struggle to find enough food. Basic necessities like milk, blankets, and clothing feel impossibly out of reach. The cost of survival has become unbearable. Every night, I am haunted by the thought: how can I bring her into this world, knowing I cannot keep her safe?
After a long pregnancy filled with pain and fear, after nights without sleep, I finally gave birth to my baby girl. She was born in the middle of bombing, surrounded by destruction and poverty—not in a warm room, not in a safe place. Her first cry mixed with the sound of explosions, as if she was announcing her arrival into a cruel world she never chose.
I gave birth to her with nothing but my heart. I cannot promise her anything. Poverty surrounds us from every side, and the cold reaches her tiny body before night even comes. My baby and I are suffering deeply, not because we ask for much, but because I am unable to provide her with the most basic needs: milk, warmth, and safety.
When I look into her eyes, I feel strength. When I look at my empty hands, I break down in tears. I am a mother trying to save her child from hunger and fear, in a world that has shown no mercy even to the dreams of children.😢🥹
To donate or support us, here is the link 👇🙏
Help Sahar and Mohammed Build a Safe Home for Their Baby
Sa… Jordan Brusso needs your support for Help Sahar and Mohammed Build a Safe H
From the depths of my heart, thank you for your kindness and compassion🥹❤️🙏
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