A já de si pouca confiança que eu em ti tinha... já a perdi por completo
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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@haryhanne1963
A já de si pouca confiança que eu em ti tinha... já a perdi por completo
🤔
A DOMINAÇÃO ISLÂMICA DO OCIDENTE 1: FINGIR SER REFUGIADO PARA TER ACESSO AO PAÍS ESCOLHIDO. 2: JOGAR A CARTA DA MINORIA ENQUANTO SUPERA A POPULAÇÃO NUMA ESCALA DE MAIS DE 5 PARA 1 ENGRAVIDANDO MULHERES INGÉNUAS E VULNERÁVEIS. 3: INFILTRAR-SE NA POLÍTICA E CHAMAR OS OUTROS DE RACISTAS E INTOLERANTES SE NÃO CONCORDAM COM ELES. 4: IMPLEMENTAR UMA VERSÃO AUMENTADA DA LEI SHARIA COM A AJUDA DOS ESQUERDISTAS. 5: MATE TODOS AQUELES QUE NÃO SE SUBMETEM AO ISLÃO E DOMINE TODOS OS PAÍSES OCIDENTAIS. ABRAM OS OLHOS, OLHEM À VOSSA VOLTA, PRESTE ATENÇÃO. ISTO NÃO É UMA PIADA, ISTO É REALIDADE.
🇵🇹 Nota para mim mesma, mas também pode ser para ti.Não esperes nada de ninguém, as outras pessoas não se preocupam contigoEstão demasiado imersas nos seus próprios problemas para conseguirem importar-se também com os teus. consola-te naqueles que desabafam contigo, que também te escutam e têm empatia por ti, porque provavelmente estão numa situação muito semelhante. Mas não te admires quando/ ou se encontrares alguém que não quer saber dos teus problemas porque o seu mundo gira à volta do seu próprio umbigo, e não culpes nem condenes, pois essas não conseguem evitar ser como são. Não te preocupes demasiado com as suas frustrações. Concentre-te nas coisas que tens e cria belas memórias e legados. Acredita... um dia, num futuro distante... alguém encontrará essas memórias/legados e mostrá-los-á, e não importa o quão deterioradas estejam as tuas células cerebrais, essas memórias trarão de volta o teu sorriso ou, por vezes, até uma lágrima. Não esperes até amanhã para ser feliz, sê feliz hoje, pois o amanhã pode nunca chegar. Vive, ama, ri, todos os dias como se não houvesse amanhã.🇬🇧 Note to self but, it can also be 4 U.Expect nothing from no one, other people don't care about youThey are far to immersed in their own issues to be able to also care about your issues. Get comfort from those who confide in you and also listen to you and empathise with you because they're probably in a very similar situation. But don't be surprised when/if you get someone who doesn't give a dam about your issues because their world revolves around their own bellybutton, and don't blame or condemn them either, as they can't help the way they are. Don't dwell to much on your frustrations. Focus on the things you have, and make beautiful memories and legacies. Believe me...one day in a distant future...someone will find those memories/legacies and they will show it to you, and no matter how far gone your braincells are, these memories will bring back your smile or sometimes even a tear. Don't wait for tomorrow to be happy, be happy today for tomorrow may never come. Live, love, laugh, everyday as if there's no tomorrow.
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Nem sei o que é
Burn the library, or walk inside. Either way, it's your choice.
Unless you've been living under a rock, you can't have missed the escalating riots all around the country - riots which the media keep referring to as "protests", in spite of the fact that no-one involved seems to agree on just what they are protesting against.
Dragging strangers out of cars, burning down public buildings, throwing stones at ambulancemen, setting fire to hotels in a deliberate attempt to burn the people inside alive - and maybe scoring a new phone or pair of trainers on the way home - has nothing to do with "protest."
It certainly has nothing to do with the brutal murder of three little girls, although that was used as a springboard by online agitators, claiming that the murderer was an immigrant (he wasn't, and even if he were, attacking other immigrants because of what he did makes about as much sense as torching a Wetherspoons in Manchester in protest against Myra Hindley.) Nor does it have anything to do with Asian grooming gangs in Rotherham, although that's the most recent excuse I've heard: those grooming gangs were dreadful, but these criminals do not represent the Asian community any more than do the white leaders of grooming gangs (which by far outnumber them).
So, what the fuck is this about?
Well, it's the illegal immigrants, they say. Coming into our country, taking our jobs, raping our girls, yadda, yadda, yadda. Except that it isn't. Brexit has made it increasingly difficult for foreigners to work here, which is why so many European doctors and nurses have already left the country, putting still yet more pressure onto our dying NHS. And refugees - let's call them that, given they're neither immigrants, nor here illegally - aren't allowed to work while their application is being processed. As for "immigrant crime", a phrase that these people have borrowed from Trump - it represents a tiny proportion of crime in the UK, which by the way has risen sharply as the riots have escalated, because the police just don't have the manpower to fight on two fronts at the same time.
And add to this the fact that the principal agitators - people like Yaxley-Lennon and Farage - don't even live in this country, I think it's pretty clear that whatever motivation these burners of libraries, looters of shops, and goose-stepping Nazi cosplayers claim, it has nothing to do with "British values" or "taking back the country", and everything to do with doing whatever the fuck they want and blaming it on someone else.
Why do I care? Because I was born in one of these communities. I still have family in Rotherham, in Barnsley. I live less than fifteen miles away from the heart of these riots. I've done events in the libraries and universities that have been attacked. And by the way, isn't it weird how thugs always target libraries and places of learning on their way to robbing their local Lush, or Greggs, or Shoezone?
It's almost as if the agitators know that education is the key. That reading brings us together; teaches us to question what we read on the internet; crosses cultural boundaries; reminds us we're all human. And in disaffected communities like Rotherham, with a high degree of poverty, access to these ideas is very dangerous in the eyes of a far-right movement that wants to take power.
Already, 14 years of austerity, cuts and corruption has brought the country to its knees. By cutting education and the arts, Tories have reduced the access of these underprivileged communities to critical thinking and new ideas. Brexit has done further damage, as well as cutting us off from our allies. After the event, it is now clear how much Russian misinformation played its part in that process, just as it's playing a part right now in spreading its racist rhetoric via supporters like Farage and the fake accounts that amplify him. Now they're no longer in power, the far-right is doing its best to do as much further damage as possible to our society, urging people to "take control" by destroying anything else that can help them out of poverty.
Why? Because poor people are easier for the far-right to control. Poverty and crime are linked; just as illiteracy and crime are linked. And both of those things are linked to hate; to racism and mistrust of anyone who seems different.
But here's the thing. There's always a choice. Not everyone who grows up poor becomes a criminal. Not everyone who missed out on a good education becomes a racist. I grew up in a poor neighbourhood. There were some racists there, and some thugs, but most people were decent and honest. Most people were happy to co-exist with people of different cultures. I was one of those people; my family was different. Sometimes people even told us to go back home where we belonged. Most didn't. But of course, were were white. We looked like them. There's an obvious reason why brown and Black people in particular are being dehumanized and blamed for what's wrong with the country now.
And it's ironic, how people react when someone calls them racist? "But we're just ordinary people, with ordinary concerns."
"I'm not racist, I'm just (insert your bullshit reason here)."
And yet, here we are. Racism is ordinary. And if you do racist things, if you blame all brown people for what one brown person did, if you judge people by the way they look, if you make assumptions about whole groups of people, then you're a racist. And if you spout Nazi slogans, do Nazi salutes, walk with Nazis, repeat Nazi propaganda, then you're a fucking Nazi, mate. Live with it, or change. Your choice.
Because the choices we make today affect what comes tomorrow. And although poverty isn't a choice, being a decent person is. Your choices can help your children break the cycle of despair. Or they can keep your kids stuck in the same rut. To put it another way, you can take your kids to the library and let them learn to think for themselves. Or you can burn the libraries down and take them to watch you and your mates trying to set fire to some terrified refugees in a hotel instead.
Either way, your kids get to live with the choices you make today.
Right now, you're deciding their future.
Your choice.
Isto tem sido essencialmente a minha vida
Tumblr 😉 Eu não ando para seguir ou ser seguida por ninguém 🤣😂
Eu ando aqui porque eu detesto contacto com outros humanos. Detesto falar com pessoas ! Eu detesto até a minha própria companhia imagine-se! 😲
#nãogostodepessoas
You can run all the ads because I'm not paying for this useless shite.
Numa tarde ensolarada, eu e meu amante, Pedro, caminhávamos de mãos dadas à beira-mar. O som suave das ondas proporcionava o cenário perfeito para a ternura que envolvia nosso momento. Nossos olhares cúmplices e sorrisos trocados eram reflexos de uma conexão profunda.
Com gentileza, Pedro segurava uma flor selvagem e a entregou a mim, simbolizando a beleza única do nosso amor. Sob a luz dourada do entardecer, decidimos sentar-nos em uma rocha, observando o pôr do sol pintar o céu de tons alaranjados.
Entre risos e confidências, compartilhamos sonhos e temores, construindo uma intimidade que ia além das palavras. Nossas mãos entrelaçadas transmitiam a segurança que encontrávamos um no outro. Eu me sentia acolhida nos braços de Pedro, enquanto ele expressava o quanto a minha presença iluminava sua vida.
À medida que o sol mergulhava no horizonte, selamos o dia com um suave beijo, prometendo continuar nossa jornada juntos. Nossa história de amor, tecida com momentos simples e sinceros, era um testemunho da força que só o verdadeiro amor poderia proporcionar.
À medida que as semanas passavam, Pedro e eu explorávamos novos capítulos da nossa história. Jantares à luz de velas, passeios pela cidade e tardes preguiçosas no parque fortaleciam ainda mais nossos laços. Cada momento compartilhado era uma página que adicionávamos ao livro do nosso amor.
Pedro, sempre atento, surpreendia-me com pequenos gestos que aqueciam o coração. Uma carta deixada no criado-mudo, um café preparado com carinho, eram sinais constantes do seu afeto. A reciprocidade florescia, e eu procurava expressar meu amor de maneiras igualmente singelas.
Juntos, enfrentamos desafios e celebramos conquistas, construindo uma base sólida para o nosso futuro. As nossas diferenças tornavam-se complementos, e as dificuldades eram superadas com compreensão e paciência. Em cada obstáculo, descobríamos uma nova camada do nosso entendimento mútuo.
E assim, em meio a risadas compartilhadas e abraços apertados, percebíamos que o nosso amor não era apenas um momento, mas uma jornada contínua. Com a promessa de enfrentar o desconhecido de mãos dadas, sabíamos que o nosso romance estava destinado a florescer, página por página, em um livro de infinitas possibilidades.
Num fim de semana ensolarado, decidimos escapar para uma pequena cidade costeira, buscando renovar as energias e criar memórias adicionais à nossa história. O cheiro salgado do mar e o som das gaivotas nos acolheram enquanto explorávamos vielas charmosas e cafés acolhedores.
Entre conversas animadas e descobertas inesperadas, sentimos que aqueles momentos simples estavam enraizando ainda mais nosso vínculo. Ao entardecer, enquanto o sol mergulhava no horizonte, encontramos um mirante com uma vista espetacular do oceano, proporcionando um cenário perfeito para reflexões e confissões.
Pedro, com um olhar amoroso, mencionou seus planos para o futuro. Juntos, sonhamos com viagens, conquistas pessoais e a construção de uma vida compartilhada. Cada palavra ecoava um compromisso mais profundo, e o horizonte infinito à nossa frente parecia simbolizar as possibilidades ilimitadas que tínhamos diante de nós.
Com o anoitecer, voltamos de mãos dadas, carregando não apenas conchas e lembranças tangíveis, mas a certeza de que nossa história de amor estava evoluindo, ganhando mais nuances e significado a cada passo que dávamos juntos. O futuro, agora, parecia repleto de promessas e aventuras que aguardavam para serem descobertas.
Every morning, I wake to the sound of my alarm, greeted by the promise of a new day. The sun peeks through my curtains, casting a warm glow as I savor my first cup of coffee. Rushing to catch the bus, I immerse myself in the city's rhythm, accompanied by the beats of my favorite playlist. Work unfolds with a flurry of emails and meetings, punctuated by shared laughter over a simple lunch. Challenges arise in the afternoon, but I tackle them with determination. After the daily grind, a peaceful stroll in the park rejuvenates me. Back home, the aroma of dinner fills the air as I unwind with a good book. As I drift into sleep, I look forward to the adventures awaiting me in the new day ahead.
O que foi?
A informação era que;
Demência
Agressividade
Instável
Tudo fazia crer que eu iria ter um turno infernal.
Cheguei ao destino, estacionei e dirigi-me à residência. Mostraram-me onde eu iria ficar de plantão, e informaram-me que me chamariam se fosse necessária.
Ja quase se passaram 5 horas e eu aqui sentadinha de plantão sem me chatear com nada😀
Devia ser sempre assim.
🤔
So... Tumblr has made a few aesthetic changes hu...
It's still the same shit as always 😌
Eliminei a conta do WordPress por isso tudo o que eu escrevi antes desta data onde esteja algo do tipo:' Ver no WordPress'. Nao vale pena clicarem nesse link porque a conta já não existe.
Tenho tanta saudade do Mar. Não deste Mar sujo e poluído deste país (a culpa não é do país mas dos nojentos que o conspurcam) tenho saudade do meu querido Tejo, da minha Troia e da minha amada Albarquel. Tenho saudade das ruas do Pinhal Novo e das ruas de Setúbal. Tenho saudade do Rossio e da Praça da Figueira. Tenho saudade de Santo Amaro de Oeiras. Tenho saudade de ir à Lota comer Caldo verde e pão com chouriço.
Já antes disse e volto agora a dizer. A saudade não se explica e nem se mede. A saudade sente-se e aperta-nos até doer na alma e no coração.
Podem mudar o aspeto ao Tumblr as vezes que quiserem que vai ser sempre a mesma merda