Me: I don't get it. I thought I was doing a lot better than I was a few years ago. I'm like 10 times more on top of things than I used to be. How does everything feel terrible now?
The Tiny Me in OSHA-approved Hi-Vis Gear Who lives in my brain and pulls all the levers: Boss, it's the fascism. You're completely gunked up with cortisol due to the fact that your entire daily life is now underscored with a haunting awareness of the rapid erosion of your rights, dignity, and any and all social safety nets, and you're also bearing witness to the most vulnerable people immediately being persecuted. This creates a natural stress response that basically means you're going to continue having memory and organizational problems, as well as emotional imbalances.
Me: BUT I HAVE A BULLET JOURNAL AND I MEDITATE NOW.
Tiny OSHA Me: BOSS, THE FASCISM.
someone else peed my pants 😔
Hello, My name is Mosab, and I live in Gaza with my family. Life here has become harder than I ever imagined, and I’m writing this with hope in my heart that you might hear our story.
The ongoing war has devastated my family. We’ve lost 25 family members—each one a beloved part of our lives, taken too soon. I miss them deeply—their laughter, their presence, their love. Every day is a reminder of this unimaginable loss.
We are now facing daily challenges to survive—things that most people take for granted, like food, clean water, and a safe place to sleep. The harsh realities of life here have replaced our dreams with the constant fight for survival.
💔 Lost Stability: The war has left us without work or a stable source of income.
📚 Dreams on Hold: Like so many here, my family’s dreams have been replaced by the need to simply survive.
😢 Unimaginable Loss: Losing 25 loved ones has left a void that can never be filled.
I’m sharing our story with the hope that someone out there might care. Even $10 can make a big difference for us, and if you’re unable to donate, just reblogging this post can help spread the word.
Your kindness, no matter how small, is something we’ll never forget.
Your support is not about changing our entire situation—it’s about giving us a little relief, a little hope, and a way to keep going. We are not asking for much, and we understand if you can’t donate. Sharing our story is just as valuable to us as a donation.
Thank you for reading this far. It means the world to us to know that someone is listening. Your kindness gives us strength and helps us believe in a better tomorrow.
With all our gratitude,
✅️ Vetted by ✅️
Save my father please ‼️🚨
When I hold my father's hand, I feel warmth and tenderness because there is no one in my family but my father, and I lost my sisters and everyone who cares about me, but my father is in danger and his last hours could be in a few minutes, my friend, donate when you see this, please, please, the matter is urgent 😭😭
Verified : @90-ghost
WEEE!! WEEEE!!! WEEE!!! YAYYY!! YIPPIE! WAHOO! AWAWAWA!!! WEE WEE WAA WAA WAA! ZWEEM !! BABABABA! YAHOOO WEE YAY WYEE !! WEWEWEE!!
After 470 days of genocide in Gaza we went to our house but we found nothing but sand, I ask you to help me build one room for my family to sit temporarily before the rain comes, please don't ignore me and donate and share
Ive hired 2,000 finches to eat your freshly sown lawn seed
anyone wanna be my narrative foil. it has to be sexual
"Please, do not ignore my story. Your donation and sharing this message is a part of your humanity and support for us. Every help, no matter how small, makes a huge difference in my life and my children's lives. Be our voice, be the hope for those who have lost everything." 🇵🇸🍉🙏🏼
✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #521 )✅️
In a corner of Gaza, my family and I are drowning in destruction, with the echoes of suffering surrounding us. I sat beside my modest tent, hastily erected after losing my home in the latest bombing. The faces of my family tell stories of patience and resilience, with lines of time etched upon them, as if they were records of unforgettable events. 🇵🇸⏳🍉
I once lived in a small home, filled with the laughter and voices of my children. Today, I have become a witness to the agony of displacement. The bombing forced me to flee with my children after a shell struck our home, leaving behind years of memories and simple belongings I never imagined would become unreachable. 🏚️💨
Every morning, I leave my tent and go to work, using a clay oven to provide food for my children. Meanwhile, my youngest son heads to the charity kitchens that offer aid, waiting for long hours under Gaza’s scorching sun. Despite the exhaustion that weighs down his frail body, he carries the food mixed with his tears and returns with a fake smile, hiding behind it the burdens of his struggles. 🍞🥀
At night, when everyone else is asleep, I remain seated at the entrance of my tent, gazing at the dark sky, reminiscing about days gone by… about my home that was once filled with warmth. Yet, I still find remnants of hope in my heart—a hope that one day peace will return, and my children and I will live in a new home, filled with joy. 🌙🏡✨
In moments of solitude, I find peace in prayer and supplication. I plead to God to protect Gaza and its people, to wipe away the dust of sorrow from our hearts. I always repeat🇵🇸🍉🌿
"We are here to remind the world that we are stronger than war, and we will rebuild our lives anew, no matter the cost!" 🙏
im going to succeed because im crazy