Appalachia - Blog Posts
blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled ♱
People seeing this please support them and share this!!!!
I can't donate anything but I really hope you guys are able to get the money that you need and that you guys are able to stay as safe as possible!! <333
TWO DISABLED PEOPLE NEED HELP AFTER HURRICANE HELENE
hi, i dont like making these posts, but at this time im genuinely at such a loss that i dont know what to do.
helene ripped through where me and my partner live and we arent doing good and we need help.
i work a $15/hr job but i cant work more than 20hrs a week due to my disability, and this is only enough to pay my share of rent and sort of feed us and our animals.
my partners job got absolutely fucking decimated. he worked for a small business dog boarding kennel and it flooded. all of the dogs are safe but the kennel is in no state to be working at and is not safe or useable for animals or people. the bridge to the road its on is also completely gone and we have no idea when it will be rebuilt.
we were mostly relying on my partners income, and due to our local walmart being shut down our only options are more expensive/higher end grocery stores. he also needs to make rent. neither of us can take being separated after all of this and we no longer have the money to move out or get a separate vehicle as we were planning.
for the record. we are no where near rich. we already struggled to make ends meet. his car was going to be a free(ish) handmedown from his mom but without his high paying job he cant afford car insurance, and now his only option is a 10/h job and that just isnt enough.
he cannot make rent, i dont know if i can afford to care for our cats. we wernt planned for this to happen because a fucking hurricane in the mountains shouldve been impossible.
commission my partner directly here: https://www.tumblr.com/showf4ll-media/763189903486042112/these-were-the-damages-done
you can support me by watching and sharing this video as it is fully monetized, as well as the other monetized content on my channel. if i can make just $50 off this video ill have enough built up ad revenue from a year+ for google to release my money (they release at $100):
i hesitate to ask for direct donations but anything helps. at the moment we have people who can feed us but we need rent money.
if i decide to ask for direct donations it would be to pay off about $300 worth of vet bill debt but i dont know how to set that up and i dont know exact amounts, etc
i cant take commissions right now because between work and all of this i cant manage that ontop of everything. i have a few characters for sale so if youre interested in that you can find them here:
https://toyhou.se/28354700.huge-purge-eo-on-most-of-th
thank you.
My first love was a Kentucky sunset <3
(All my own pics)
☀️🌸⛰️
As far as animals to be afraid of, deer rank pretty low. From afar, a deer is harmless certainly. Docile, wide eyes, silent staring before they bound away. But if you’ve ever been up close, that likely means you’ve found one trapped. Wounded maybe. Only then will you realize what fear does to a prey animal. If you wander too near, the acrid smell of desperation and deadly will to live is pungent in each flare of its nostrils. Then all of a sudden that deer seems much bigger, and fiercer, and you really ought to back away, but your brain works slower than its instincts, and you’re about to discover that hooves are like rocks and like knives, and those legs are longer and your head is closer than you would ever like. And for a split second, you, apex predator, will understand prey-fear.
It's. . . Odd
I'm deeply Appalachian
Fundamentally claimed and cursed and part of that mountain chain that's older than words and hides and traps things older than that
Those mountains were my womb, where i first hurt and where i first held, how i learned to heal and harm in turn
Those mountains are the spine of the world, sinking under the weights of ages, settled in their rage and power but no less dangerous
These mountains are flash in a pan
Young and loud and tall and prouder than they should be
They take and take and take and forget that if you want to keep taking for long then you need to take less and more kindly
These mountains are barren in a way that Appalachia never was
Stripped of life and all emotion except numb fury
The things living in these hills aren't tricksy and wily and powerful, they're injured animals on the run and they're cornered in by the press of toxic humanity
They don't know me
And i don't know them
But they see me, sense me, look for me
And I'm afraid sometimes
I don't dislike them
They're alien
They're wild
They're not home
But i could learn to work with them
But also? I miss clever jack, i miss the plants i know by heart and smell and sight
I miss the ghosts of those who should've never been there but dug in deep anyways
I miss the AGE
I feel old my dear
I've been around too long, this is not the first meaty church my spirit had occupied and these mountains make me feel old and weathered and like I've walked into a party i was not invited to
but my heart went west so now thats where we make our home, itll do for now
moodboard for a story im writing
Nothing compares to the verdant and humid summers of the East Coast
and people are surprised there's wacky shit up there?
Poem — this was a poem I wrote for an assignment. The task was to write a personal version of George Ella Lyon’s poem, Where I’m From. I used some of her formatting, but tried to make it more of my own. This poem is primarily focused on my childhood spent in Appalachia, which many people close to me don’t know about because I’ve been embarrassed of my heritage for a long time. If you have any questions about it, please ask!!
Up the Long Dirt Road, Where I’m From
I am from pine-covered hills and threadbare boots, from fiddles and azaleas. Where rivers run rich with brook trout and minnows, little legs surrounded by pebbles and broken glass. I am from whiskey pacifiers and sweet apple dumplings, from venison suppers and red plaid tablecloths. I’m from Mama’s bitter coffee that shaped my tongue and trickles through my veins.
I am from Pew Bibles and weighted Stoles, from god-fearing chopped blonde curls. Where road signs preach and billboards shame, wooden posts breaking under their pressure. I am from Little Liberty and train tracks, from graffiti crosses and neon slurs. I’m from the carpenter’s wood that carved my limbs and left splinters in my palms.
I am from lingering marijuana, from bonfire perfume and Jack Daniel’s breath. Where pans shatter homes and diesel growls at children, sore bare feet running alone in the night and robins stopping to greet them. I am from beer can targets and stick beatings, from moldy bean bags and rotted food. I’m from bedtime war stories and shoe box memories that left scars on my ears and scrapes on my skull.
In a cabin by the pond, just up a makeshift road, is a hidden tongue and an embarrassing voice. The sound of intelligent ignorance and a banjo’s cries, flatfoot stomps and disappearing laughter. Where I’m from, we learn to be silently stupid and camouflaged by the trees.