PLEASE HELP SAVE A PALESTINIAN FAMILY FROM GENOCIDE AND FAMINE

Paradise/Cityscape

All that is passed,

And all that is due

Wander in fields of flowers,

One big tree in the midst of the pasture

Lowly hanging golden fruits,

Knowledge bestowed with every bitten

Sweet at first bite, bitter as an afterthought,

I pace beneath it's sturdy branches and it's

swaying, shining leaves.

This is what paradise would feel,

But I am not dead.

I am dead to the world, the world was dead to me

This fantasy is speaking to me,

with no sound,

Regardless, I am always astonished,

the pretty view of Paradise.

Alas, Paradise never lasts,

The curtain opens

and I lay under sheets,

Formality reeks in this room, of something man-made and broken and repaired, and put back together again,

and beyond my window

Is turgid, overwhelming, and polluted,

Cityscape.

HELP SHAREEF ALAMOUDY - Donate to a family from Gaza - and recieve art in return!

" Hello , I am Shareef Alamoudy, I am from Gaza married and have twins children Husam and Ahmed, five months old, they came after four IVF. My wife and I came to Egypt in June to do IVF and my wife got pregnant and we got stuck in Egypt after the war, I was an employee in Gaza and my wife was a math teacher and now we have no income, my twins was born in April and one of them (Ahmed) has heart holes, needs custody, a lot of treatments and costs, and now he needs special milk and medication.

I also have herniated disc, I cannot work hard in Egypt.

I need an operation that costs 4000 euros.

I live in a rental apartment that costs me 200 euros a month.

I need a diaperes, milk and medicine for children that costs me 200 euros a month.

Life requirements like food and other things 400 euros. " - Shareef, ( @sharifmoody )

Imagine your home city being reduced to rubble, and you find yourself in a new country, where every day is a struggle to get by - you need surgery for you and your child, and money for food, milk and medicine and rent on top of that. That is Shareef's reality. Please, stand with them during this tough time - be a light in the darkness, show some humanity and create hope.

HERE IS THE FUNDRAISER €2,478/€50,000 RAISED.

(LAST DONATION WAS 3 DAYS AGO)

His vetting information is HERE. He is SHARED BY @90-ghost.

Here are some medical documents shared by Shareef;

Medical reports for Ahmed, (child in need of surgery) (reverse image searched, seems legitimate)

I do commisions in exchange for proof of donations!! If you send me PROOF that you have donated to this fundraiser - you may receive -

€5 - a sketch

€10 - a drawing

€15 - a coloured drawing

€20+ - small painting

€30+ - large painting

SEE MY PINNED POST - for more info on comms/fundraisers

Israel has launched violent attacks against the people of Gaza once again, with complete disregard for the supposed ceasefire they agreed to. The death counts keep rising and it's no secret that Israel not only kills Palestinian children, but specifically targets them. My friend Sahar @reallyoptimisticface was separated from her children before the current aggression started, and they have been living in Gaza without their parents for almost two years. She knows that they live in danger, and we both worry for them daily. The area they're currently in is an extremely dangerous zone and the lack of connection makes communication hard. Her older daughter Diana has been caring for her younger siblings, but she's suffered burns and wounds from being forced to cook over open flames.

As more news comes out and we see the extent of the Israeli violence, Sahar worries her children may be next. Please stand by her and support her so she can see her children again, bring them to safety, and be together as a family. No child should have to live through this. Your donations can give them some hope.

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Sahar's family reunite and escape Gaza's death, organized by I PB

Hello, I am raising funds to help my friend Sahar's family. Here are her wor… I PB needs your support for Help Sahar's family reunite and es

Read this post for her vetting info

Sahars campaign has been moving so slow, but her children can't wait on this money. If you are able please donate, it's the most effective way to help them.

🚨 THREE DAYS WITHOUT DONATIONS 🚨

It's been days... and the donations have stopped. 🍉‼️

💔 We are a family in Gaza:

- Father: Elderly and sick

- Us: Women struggling to survive

- Reality: No food, no income, no support

The situation is becoming unbearable. Prices are rising. Our resources are running out.

It’s been three days since we’ve received any help. 📉

💸 Even a small donation can make a world of difference.

👉 5 can give us food for a day.

👉 10 can help with medicine for our father.

👉 $20 can buy us essential supplies.

Your "support" can change everything. Don't let us go another day without help.

Even if you can't donate, sharing this message can reach someone who can.

Please, help us survive this. We need your help now. 🙏

*Vetted by:

»»@90-ghost ✅ here

*Donation link:

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Nada's family survive purposeful unimaginable struggle, organized by Michael Bushnell

Help my family to overcome our plight under the difficult cir… Michael Bushnell needs your support for Help Nada's family survive purposeful

journey of the jointed.

All beings that ever come to grace the dirt, have known love, no matter how little or how much.

And as much as he'd like to lie and say he was an exception he was loved only twice in his life thrice if you count beginnings.

Once, by a good man, who forged blades of benign shine, struck in the heart where his soul lay the heart that was tossed since yesterday.

Twice, by a sick child, who sewed stories of old of dancers and soldiers and burned in phoenix flames, promising a heart in the midst of gray ashes that say; The meaning of soul is defined by humanity, as hearts and souls go hand-in-hand, to have a soul is to feel, to feel is to have a heart.

And so the collapse of a frail child, greeted the puppet with no strings, and now his mind has lapsed back into loathing.

And now he sits in rubble and flame, singing a soundless soliloquy wishing to burn, and burn to death The jointed man wakes to a rising sun, and sheds the "son" that once was.

The years fly as wind blows just as time does, harrowed by horrid hands that never knew how to heal, finally finding oneself standing with kinder kin, as the world forgot the puppet of old, and now only knows who wanders with the wind as most visionary vassals do.

The jointed jaunt the joyous world, with a jaded face and biting words but now free of past grievances, still gruesome; somehow untrue.

The world cares not for the wandering soul that walks with the wind, Yet he does not care in return.

. . .

Two brothers despair upon damp grass, and the beating sun against the blue canvas, the older cradles the younger in his arms, who happens to look lifeless in his hold, such a sunny day for such a bloody sight, the world never did halt for them, not when they needed it to, not when they wanted it to. Crimson pools beneath their knees, and the older brother screams his voice hoarse, he sobs out "Please...please come back... I'msorryI'msorryI'msofuckingsorryI'MSORRY!"

No matter how loud he yells, his little brother wouldn't say a word, still limp in his destructive hands, still not the bright sun he was just moments before. The cost of his competitive nature has caught up to him twice, he prays to at least his mother that there will never be a thrice (and he throws in a fleeing wish that if his little kid brother doesn't make it, she would take care of him, she certainly could better than he could have ever done.)

It has forced him to pay the price, and the price came in the form of the second possible death he has caused, out of the very few deaths he has been the cause of, why only his right-hand men? Long overdue apologies fall on unhearing ears, he wishes he did not have the cowardice he had.

Now the sun has burnt out.

I am the sky,

The blues of the morning, happy and bright, untouched but lonely, no clouds in sight.

I am the earth,

Fertile and frolicking, wide and green, even as the wildflowers sing with the wind, and the blood that is pressed into the soil beneath me, with the wild sprouting in glee.

I am the wind,

Soundless and free, carefree and careless, as one would wish to be, singing praises into the ears of many, sad and lonely may they be, the wind may stay, not away, from any.

I am the sun,

Bright star against the sky, lambent and bent with joy, laughing with no sound, and warm but not scorched.

I am the sea,

Vast and infinite in the eyes of one person, endless beneath it's surface, and unknown is it's creatures that it is home to, all encompassing and steady, but the sea is never restrained.

I am the moon,

White with morals, but dark in surrounding, cold and gentle, wished to be unmoving, as the tides below sway to my command, as the people on the ground sleep with no sound.

I am the stars,

Bright dots of freckled light, scattered and uneven, but beautiful in every right, immovable but present, distant but not lost, away but not stolen.

And of all the things that I am,

I am love,

Ever present and unending, unconditional or otherwise, heartbreaking or fulfilling, I exist amongst them all, there are those who do not believe in me, but I believe in myself, and who is to stop me from believing me? For who am I, but my own identity of love?

The Woman Who Painted,

And Never Forgot

Have you ever heard, of a story told in words

Painted in your mind, and burned into your heart?

Of each time a statement so significant, would not be forgotten by one, and instead cursed (or blessed) to never forget;

Where words to be heard, inspires the mind to bring out it's canvas, paint it's joys or sorrows away, and hang the painting up, for no one else but one to see?

I'll tell you a tale, of a woman no one knows the name of,

But her story is to be remembered, as a tale children hear, at night from their parents' whispers

Of a woman, who could not forgot, a significant line from those she held dear,

Both a blessing

And a curse

At first, it was her mother

The drip, drip, dripping of "Honey" from her lips

It trickled itself into her mind, fed her heart

It was syrupy, like a sweet treat after a hard day

It was her first love, and one that was to never to be taken from her,

Second, was from her brother,

"I hate you!"

It was discordant, all written in static, it hurt, she could see and hear the insincerity in this declaration,

She apologized shortly after, their small little quarrel, she'd rather never hear or see, that horrid line of hurt, much less would she want that insincerity, become no longer.

Next was her lover,

Name known to none but family and her,

"Sweetheart"

In a loopy handwriting, full of curled arcs and elongated inking, red, cherry red in color

She tucks this memory in her arms, and placed it high in her mind, never to forget

Last was her former love,

Name known to none but her family and her,

"I've found someone"

It was covered in roses, but with roses come thorns

And those thorns dug through her heart, wrapped itself around her mouth

Left her speechless and in tears,

A tale of a woman, who could not forget,

A tale of someone, who wishes to never paint any words again,

A tale that warns children

Be careful with what you say, because sometimes, people are cursed not to forget

A tale that warns them all,

Not all love will end sweet.

It is cold resignation.

He can afford to be ignorant.