This is how many bullets they shot on a fucking kid.
This post has been compiled in Record of Genocide.
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

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@spaceyangelacey
This is how many bullets they shot on a fucking kid.
This post has been compiled in Record of Genocide.
It is my 19th birthday. It is 9:30 p.m., on a Monday, and I lay in bed after my day.
I hate myself a little for saying this, and while I love my family, I can’t help but feel this deep knot in my stomach — a loneliness that has pricked my skin since the moment I opened my eyes on my 19th day.
I hung out with my friends, yet nothing fulfilling occurred. No surprise. No gift. No token of affection. No feeling of “this day is different.” Instead, I was filled with this void of “You are old, and you were happy, and now you’re not.”
My mind keeps snaking back to last year, when I had him — when even though the bubble I lived in would burst in less than a month, I was happy. Happier than I’d ever been. I had my friends, yes, but (and this memory has haunted me all day) when everyone stopped singing happy birthday, and I made my wish — a wish to freeze that moment forever — I looked up, and there was him.
Devotion filled his eyes. While I hugged everyone briefly, my body was pulled toward him like a magnetic force. He hugged me, kissed me, and wrapped me in the warmest embrace of my life. I could’ve looked any way, far from beautiful, yet I felt the luckiest — because there he was, looking at me like I was the only star in a pitch-black sky.
It was foreign — not because I lacked love as a child, but because no one had ever loved me like that. I was the winter, and his embrace was the soothing breeze of spring, coaxing life to grow again.
This fickle memory tugs at my heartstrings in a way that aches beyond explanation. Even though it’s been months — nearly a year — since the rupture, the ache tonight feels fresh. I think part of me still had hope: that he’d say “happy birthday,” maybe even something more. That he’d be courteous, since I had been. But nothing came.
I am a fool, and selfish. To expect my friends to offer that kind of devotion is unrealistic. Yet I feel like a starved man, once given the taste of being loved ferociously, now ripped away from it — blinded, padding the walls, searching for what I once found.
The loneliness filling my heart tastes like the salty tears I’ve shed since the clock struck midnight on August 11. The ticking whispers, “You were 18, and you were happy.”
And now, I’m 19.
(person who learned from childhood to make themself as small and unimportant as possible to avoid being a burden) yeah its okay we dont have to do my thing if you dont want i dont mind
How to pixel Totoro!
Portrait of my good friend Foster that was used to promote his "Be Mine" song that released on all platforms!
Created a little icon for a friend in celebration of his new song "Be Mine" releasing February 14th!
His music captivates a wide audience due to his playful but talented approach to lyricism, "Be Mine" is exceptionally special to him because it is one of few that he's fully produced on his own.
Check him out by clicking here
Real.
"Kerokeroppi Dessert Parfait"
Drawn in ProCreate, total of 3-4 hours.
My favorite oart was drawing the little details on the keroppi marshmallow figure and then creating a frosted glass effect for the parfait cup. ☺️💕
"Kerokeroppi Dessert Parfait"
Drawn in ProCreate, total of 3-4 hours.
My favorite oart was drawing the little details on the keroppi marshmallow figure and then creating a frosted glass effect for the parfait cup. ☺️💕
black native woman survival fund
I need help. I got EVICTED and I have a month to get out. I'm broke and I will end up back in the shelter if mutual aid doesn't work. my goal is $500. pls share and donate, anything helps.
cashapp: $alisandralake
venmo/paypal: lakealisandra
Ghada Karmi and Ellen Siegel, in 1973, 1992 and 2011. Photos by Francis Khoo (1, 2) and Jean-Pascal Deillon (3).
Sometimes i wish Gloria was real
Pikachu Popsicle!
In order to spark change, you must first be the change.
I just unexpectedly lost my medical coverage. Please share, it could lead to my next sale! So I can cover my medical bills.
I sell pins, compression gloves, artist gloves, chest binders, wrist braces, hip braces, hoodies, skorts, compression socks & more!
Store details below!
Bibipins is a fun and lively brand that takes inspiration from plants, magical girls, cosplay and nerd related things.
Day Nine of Plantober: Pine
opening commissions for october! 🎃