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In the Mood for Love (2000) directed by: Wong Kar-wait
by the way your voice always matters in the fight against injustice. every single time you speak out against an injustice it matters. it sheds light on it. it empowers others to speak up. it matters
if you are afraid to talk about palestine ask yourself why. will you be in danger? as palestinian people are? will an occupying army come into your house in the middle of the night and arrest you for mentioning the tragedy of palestine on social media? is it because you might be perceived as radical for asserting that an occupied people have a right to live free from oppression and death? is it because you feel you don’t know enough to speak out on the 60 days of relentless bombardment in 75 years of ethnic cleansing?
here are some resources to educate yourself:
- The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine, Ilan Pappé
- The Question of Palestine, Edward Said
- Except for Palestine: The Limits of Progressive Politics, Marc Lamont Hill & Mitchell Plitnick
- The Hundreds Years’ War on Palestine, Rashid Khalidi
- Justice for Some: Law and the Question of Palestine, Noura Erakat
- Freedom is a Constant Struggle, Angela Davis
- Journal of an Ordinary Grief, Mahmoud Darwish
- Palestine: A Socialist Introduction, ed. Sumaya Awad & Brian Bean
what’s happening is wrong. it is unjust. and we are not powerless. this goes triple for usamericans. it is our weapons, our military aid, and our country’s unconditional support to the apartheid state of israel that is making this genocide a reality.
use your voice. speak the truth. it always matters.
i hope you meet people with intentions as pure as your own and i hope you travel to all the places you’re curious about and i hope the restaurants you go to have your favorite drink and i hope you always have good dreams when you sleep and i hope the life you live is a fulfilling one
Fernando Pessoa, A Little Larger Than the Entire Universe: Selected Poems
there is so much love in friendship, people forget that
one day I woke up and realised all the waiting and yearning was actually me living my life and it’s happening right now and it’s still good even if it’s not perfect and there is no moment when all your dreams get fulfilled and everything makes sense. like… this is it. this is life. you’ll waste away your youth waiting for some imagined future if you don’t love life for what it is now and make the most of it
I think I hate my father.
The Sun is Also a Star, Nicola Yoon | Woodtangle, Mary Ruefle | pinterest comment | Anatomy of Cat and Dog Skeletons, William Cheselden (quote unknown) | Father, The Front Bottoms | I'm the Villian in his history., Nat (Oh Fathers, Key Ballah) | @/inkskinned on tumblr | Thomas Builds-the-Fire, Smoke Signals, Sherman Alexie | no children art print, Rainboon | Untitled, Franz Wright | Franz Kafka in a letter to his father | Seventeen Going Under, Sam Fender | Someday I'll Love Ocean Vuong, Ocean Vuong (from Night Sky With Exit Wounds)
wooden toys made by Taiwanese artist Yen Jui Lin
the ocean as a metaphor ALWAYS slaps. the ocean as a hungry force that wants to consume you? the ocean as something vast and unknowable, like a god itself? the ocean as freedom and liberation? the ocean as the mysteries of the self? the ocean as love? never fails to get me
mutuals are people u wanna eat bread dipped in olive oil with
I think i met an angel on the train
This older man moved my skirt aside and I absent-mindedly said "oh sorry" for being partially in his seat and he said "dont be sorry, this is new york" and then showed me all his poetry about observing the world and living as a restaurant worker during the pandemic and we talked about how i worked in a grocery store and as a bartender so i resonated with his work and he told me "i may never meet you again but it's nice to meet someone worth talking to. I might sound like a world class idiot sage, but you can't be afraid. That's no way to live. You have to trust your humanity." Then he shook my hand and got off the stop before me. Hello. Hello . Hello.
Lavender in the studio, charcoal on paper .
Leila Chatti, “Tea”
there’s a song that is exactly about this but with coffee 🤧
fatima aamer bilal, from shame is a girl’s second skin.
[text id: my mother and i, we sit down at the dinner table and translate each other's hurts, but we do not speak. / because you don't address the hurt (it will hurt more)]