nobody gives me butterflies anymore y’all just give me brain damage
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

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YOU ARE THE REASON

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@offthebonkers
nobody gives me butterflies anymore y’all just give me brain damage
Please help Ghadah and her family! Take the time to read through this post!
Today, I have been reached out to by Ghada Al-Madhoun ( @ghadahalmadhoun ) , a citizen of Gaza, whose life has been greatly affected by the genocide.
Not only have they lost their home and were forced to flee, but Ghadah's husband has also been lost to the conflict. They now live in a tiny, cramped tent; under the constant threat of violence and death, circumstances that no human being should have to live in. They have been displaced 6 times.
They seek to cross the Egyptian border to escape the genocide in Gaza, however they are short on funds, requiring 5,000 per person. As of now, they are only at 4,120 of their 50,000 goal. Please help these beautiful people. if you are unable to donate, sharing/reblogging is extremely helpful to this family's campaign.
https://gofund.me/42b35b77
FOR THOSE UNSURE OF LEGITIMACY OF CAMPAIGN:
The organizer of this campaign, Hind Al-Madhoun (who is Ghada's cousin), can be found on Facebook, with Ghada clearly in the friends list.
Here, attempts to spread her campaign have also been made
The account is not recent, and has been up since at least 2015.
As far as images, reverse image search is clean. This fundraiser appears to be legitimate. Please help this family, every donation matters!
Plz help me by donating If you can, sharing, like & comment
Getting ready for work at 7AM and my brother's in the shower wreaking havoc with his slipper, probably annihilating whatever insect was unlucky enough to stumble upon him.
He's killed a lizard.
Mother dearest comes into my room. Makes me look at her. And proceeds to ask one of the most unhinged questions for a Saturday morning.
"Are you okay showering with a dead body?"
"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.
I stand witness. And I will remember.
حَسْبُنَا ٱللَّهُ وَنِعْمَ ٱلْوَكِيلُ
Sufficient for us is Allah, and [He is] the best Disposer of affairs.
From the River to the Sea, Palestine will be Free 🇵🇸🍉
Louise Glück, from “Mutable Earth”, Poems 1962-2012
"1 Palestinian child is murdered every 10 minutes in Gaza.
3,457 is the latest death toll of kids alone.
Every single child we can still save is worth saving.
Demand a ceasefire. An end to the genocide. An end to the occupation."
the sun is setting against the buildings again. i know it happens every day but it feels miraculous. and it did yesterday and yesterday and yesterday. it's all liquid. startling gold. i feel overcome with grief over it i really do
There's a crack across my phone screen and I'm too afraid to peel back my screen protector to see how far the damage runs.
Nothing can describe my life better.
Fear is my old friend and I am her foe.
I'm sitting on the floor with my brother playing with our new kitten. And there's a twenty-something-year-old half away across the world sitting in darkness and wondering if this will be their last night on earth.
We live in a world where both of these experiences have been universal through time and place. I don't know how to get used to that. I don't know how to stomach any more murder and martyrdom.
I don't know how and it has never been forced down my throat. What's left for them?
I have the choice to look away, to close my eyes. I can pretend that I live in this Utopian society where human beings have always been treated with love and respect, where we've always learned from history and we never repeat past mistakes.
I can pretend to have hope for the future, a bright tomorrow where things get better for the people who have suffered all their lives on the sidelines of society.
But today I don't know how. Forget being a good person. I don't know how to be a person in these conditions. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow, you know, because I get a chance at it.
I don't know if it's useless or naive, but I hope they get one too. I hope they get one too.
There's a grief they don't teach you how to bury
A grief that knows how to burrow in
It sits under your skin
And it stings
It sings a haunting melody of
"It will always be like this."
Hasn't it always been like this?
You can't remember
And there are some things you can't forget.
I find I do not know how to wait
How to bide time
Or stand by
Patience is a virtue that is not mine
Because I know how to ache
How to yearn and pine
How to dine
On Desire's best drawn design
A masterpiece on my plate
Gluttonous gratification twirled between my fork's tines
Never sated, never satisfied
Lake Bled, Slovenia | johnedwardjames
wow
I Feel Like (09/07/2022)
I feel like July should be the eighth month.
It’s irrational and illogical. I know.
But it’s the only intuition I can rely on.
Because I feel like I’ll never be truly happy again.
November, though, it could stay the eleventh,
Or it could be the seventh. Either one works for me.
But nothing I’m doing right now seems to.
And October is a bright, sky blue.
Only a bit darker than January and Monday.
Only a lot lighter than my daily mood
And when the sun shines just so into the kitchen
It feels like a Friday from 20 years ago
And I feel way too young to be this beat
But old enough to know that July is not the eighth month
And know that facing reality is not that easy.
Though most days I can’t help but wish it would be.
tomorrow’s gonna be just fine. that conflict you’re having with your friend will blow over. no one secretly hates you. the world is not out to get you. it’s ok to feel stressed out. it’s ok to crack under pressure sometimes. you are perfectly capable of enduring whatever life throws your way. everything will be alright. you’re gonna be ok.