i’m here speaking on behalf of mahmoud. (@ma7moudgaza2)
i talk to mahmoud every day, and honestly? the situation he’s in terrifies me. i could not imagine what he’s going through, and the fact that he has no escape haunts me.
to those of you reading this who need to hear it;
i understand that activism burns a lot of people out. it’s stressful to fight. it’s terrifying to be in palestine, in congo, in sudan right now. it’s exhausting to help fight, day after day after day. but you need to keep helping. sit down for a second of you need it, and then stand up, dust off your clothes, and keep on walking.
the world will not be rebuilt in a day. but we keep fighting nonetheless.
back to the post:
i had to edit a lot of what mahmoud said, for both conciseness and clarity. but here is the exact copy.
“Oh Lord...” was the last word I said before going to sleep, and it came out of me with a flame of burning and fear. I prayed and sat in my tent, looked up at the sky through the cracks of the tent, and recalled what had happened during the year. My tears flowed, my head began to hurt, and suffocation was killing my chest. I usually turn on the internet after dinner, but tonight I didn't want to. I wanted to go out, but where should I go? for whom?
Imagine yourself in my place. Around 20 members of my family, I remembered my beautiful memories and the news of my friends’ death. My body shook and I sat on the floor, and the screams of my mother and sisters filled the place. I wanted to sleep and didn't want to wake up. I remembered how I walked with 10 children from north to south. The responsibilities I carry are greater than I can handle. I remembered searching for a home for my family, standing in line to get food, and how upset the people closest to us were.
I woke up to my mother’s voice asking me: “What’s wrong with you, Mahmoud?” I went out, but I felt strange and I came back and sat at the tent door feeling suffocated. I reassured myself of returning, but I remembered that our house had been bombed, and there was nothing left. I put the pillow on my head and said, “Lord, you are hers.” I woke up today and we were afraid, but thank God, nothing happened. I wasn't going to work, but I was encouraged. I'm really suffocated and I have nothing. The only thing left is the money from the fundraising campaign you launched. I was hesitant to ask for help, but now I have no choice.
I ask you for help. $10 could save me and my family. If you can't, participate in the campaign. You are the only hope.
if mahmoud’s story doesn’t speak to you, i don’t know what i can say that can.
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the idea that reactionary spaces are attractive to men because they treat them kindly unlike The Left is so odd because whenever I come across that content it's essentially the same dynamic as pro ana "meanspo". if you don't know what that is, it's "motivation" based on degrading the viewer to the point where they can't "make excuses" and not become anorexic, or in this case a true Alpha Male. I feel like thisis objectively worse for someone's mental health than The Left
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