I don't know what's... If there's something wrong....................................................................
~~I don't know what's going on with me.~~ I think less and less, its easier than to think. I recently read a poem. I can remember what it was called, and I can only really recall one line from it, "Tequila is hard come by when you get home" or something like that,..
Anyway, What's been happening to me. Welluto begin I feel as though I'm under a small heater at all times. And I'm sweating like crazy. I bought a gun, it'll probably not b eneeded, but it's good to have it, I don't know guns, my family are hunters so I I just asked for a stander hand gun and as much ammunition as I could buy, I maxed out my credit card and now I sit here. in this dark r o o m.. ...tmrdliT hgR pmrsG R.. {....}
I want to see more polyamory pride this pride month i'm serious. Stop being weird about people with multiple partners polyamory is awesome and beautiful and queer
If you are in the UK or Brazil, to get around any age verification bullshit, download Proton VPN (the best free one) or any vpn of your choosing (I think the latest Firefox update has a pretty good one). Then log out and log back in.
If you live in a household with restrictions on the WiFi that prevent you searching for the vpn, all it takes is one café, pub, library, or friend's house with free WiFi, and you'll pull it off. VPNs do not take that long to download.
Within Withering Walls (A poem about a broken house)
Semi formatted, Tumblr doesn't have the tools i need
Lost.
Alone.
In These Ashen Halls.
L O S T,
A L O N E,
With my love.
Trapped in the living room
Of this forsaken House,
Waiting
Awaiting. me.
Doubtfull, she will come to be
She won’t come to me
Trapped in the five and half a minute long hallway
Without colour,
Black,
Gray,
Without any form of light
A n y m o r e.
My love is standing on the edis rehto of the wall
slipping out if it, Slipping into the ashen hall I want to leave to be with my familyBut I’m stuck in these lightless growls of ,movement, of ourselves, of me, of
I'm writing this with tears in my eyes as my children scream in pain every night. Because of severe malnutrition their teeth are rotting and causing unbearable pain.
They refuse to eat and cry nonstop while I stand helpless watching them suffer. My heart is breaking. We urgently need medicine for the pain and infection plus a doctor visit. Thanks to your kindness we have raised $888 so far but we still desperately need $1,992 to complete the treatment.
Please help me stop my children's screams before it's too late. Even one dollar can make a difference. If you can't donate right now please reblog and share this post. Donate here: Click
Please don't scroll past my children's cries. My heart can't take it anymore.
My name is Alia, and I'm living in Honolulu, running this campaign for Ali and his friends and family in Gaza. Below is a message from Ali d
Save our lives... We haven't received the rest of the medication yet... I haven't received any donations for two days... My family has been classified as an emergency case in Gaza ⚠️⚠️⛔⛔
This poem is an adaptation of a quote by a union officer from the second day of the battle of Gettysburg. Without further ado, I present to you, a poem about war, adapted from the words of Frank A . Haskell.
How Look These Fields?
...
They were beautiful this morning.
They are desolate now.
Trampled by countless feet,
Plowed and Scored and Shot.
Splintered fencing framing
A mud trodden harvest.
More Dreadful, than this, to behold, thickly strewn over all their length, are horses. Some dead, mangled.
Some alive, leg shot clear off, appealing to you with a brute gaze, as you pass.
And at last, numerous, many thousands of men— yet there was no civility here now— we are quiet, now, by the side of this heaping, mangled mess of carnage.
I’m writing this to explain our situation in Gaza as clearly and honestly as possible, without exaggeration.
Right now, daily life is unstable in every aspect. There is no reliable access to electricity. When it is available, it’s only for short and unpredictable periods. Charging phones or using basic devices has become difficult, which also limits communication and access to information.
Water is a constant concern. Clean drinking water is not always available, and when we find it, we have to store and use it very carefully. In many cases, people rely on limited or unsafe sources. This directly affects health, especially for children.
Food is also limited. There is no normal access to markets or regular supplies. Meals are simple and often not enough. People are not choosing what to eat they are taking whatever is available just to get through the day.
Housing is one of the biggest challenges. Many families, including ours, are no longer living in proper homes. Instead, they stay in temporary shelters or tents. These conditions are difficult: high temperatures during the day, cold at night, no real protection, and no privacy. Sleeping is irregular, and rest is limited.
Healthcare is extremely hard to access. Hospitals are overwhelmed, and basic medical supplies are not always available. Even minor health issues can become serious because treatment is delayed or unavailable.
There is also continuous psychological pressure. The uncertainty is constant. People do not know what will happen next, where they might have to move, or how conditions will change. This affects both adults and children on a daily basis.
This campaign is for Anas’ family. The goal is simple: to secure basic needs like food, water, and safer temporary shelter. There is no unnecessary request here only essential support to get through this situation.
Every contribution, no matter how small, makes a real difference in covering these needs.
If you can help, please consider donating.If you can’t, sharing this may help reach someone who can.
I woke up today in pain, and a violin began looping, over and over. Encircling me. Then the circling aligned itself with the vultures circling the mass by my name. Although those vultures have followed me for as long as my memories recall. Always circling above, looping like the violins within my bones, their violent screams, mimicing the ones from my sleep. They soften to piano strings in the day. No better. Sustained till the next key ends. killing me too. Like the screams of violins, like the noise in my dreams. I say "Noise" instead of "Screams" because to me the screams turn to static. Turns to children playing in a park, their mother off on some distant planet across the way. Turns to the bang of a bullet released from a golden gun (Not 007). Turns to Hamlet, contemplating suicide, or just pretending to, or just pretending to be pretending to be contemplating suicide. Turns to the frivolous bickering of two friends just before they die. Turns to gulps and yells. Looping over again. Looping. Violins within my bones. Sustaining. Piano in my skull, screams keeping me up at night, and the watchfull eyes of the vultures that follow me all led to this. This. What is this? What I've become? What we all will become? Eventually? Perhaps? I circle with that dreadful violin, ever bearing on the minced meat that became of me. How? Is that me. How? If I'm here. Flying with vultures. With violins and pianos. or maybe just violins. maybe the piano is the screams I hear at night translated to everyone before. Everything before, Everyone and everything before. Everything before us. Us. Us. Us? You and me, you, or? Me? Me? You? no? Me most of all, me for sure, when? I'm encircling my corpse on the ground, dancing with vultures, to beautifully violent yet dreadful music.
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