POV: You're The Hoodlum

From Gaza to Ireland: Out of the Fire of War to the Fire of Soul-Crushing Survival Guilt and Fear for my Family

Note: My main account (@mahmoudkhalafff) was unfortunately terminated by Tumblr for no reason. This is my back up account. Please continue to boost my campaign. We are too close!

At times of peace, having to be away from your family for months and years is a high price you pay for obtaining an academic degree or securing a better job. Imagine while you are away, they were trapped in a besieged strip of land and thousands of missiles rained down on that besieged area of 360 km² around the clock for almost 11 months. That would crush every cell of your mind and drive you crazy, wouldn't it?!

Imagine suddenly getting addicted to watching the news and the gory videos and pictures all the freaking time. You follow relevant social media pages that only show images, videos, and stories of entire families that were wiped out in an instant in an airstrike and deemed as collateral insignificant damage. While plunging deeper and deeper into an unprecedented state of acute depression, I wondered: how come all my suffering from displacement, fear, and hunger in Gaza for 5 months during the war before being evacuated to Ireland is nothing but a drop compared to my ocean of suffering now?

The constant thinking of my family in Gaza during the genocide and all the potential scenarios is consuming my sanity and mental health at a time in my life and a place where I am required to be 199% focused and productive. To give you a glimpse of my horrible psychological suffering these days: I fear going to sleep because I know horrible horrible nightmares are waiting for me on the other side. Some have to do with the horrors of wars I witnessed in Gaza myself and others relate to the horrible potential scenarios I keep thinking about.

Seeing the images and pictures of Gaza makes you think a thousand earthquakes hit every neighborhood of the Gaza Strip! Nothing and no one has been spared. The horrific war has turned the place into a hell on earth, unfortunately. How can young people have any hope for a better future seeing the mass destruction and the relentless Israeli efforts to stifle Gaza and squeeze hope out of its people as a form of collective punishment. How monstrous and heartless!!!

Amid all this chaos and madness, my number one priority and focus is evacuating my family to Egypt as a first step and hopefully reuniting with them in Ireland at a later stage.

Please do consider helping me save my family by donating, reblogging, and sharing.

Note: Vetted by:

1. @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi # 151 on the spreadsheet of Vetted Gaza Fundraisers List]

2. @riding-with-the-wild-hunt Here .

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Donate to Death chases my family in Gaza; help me save them, organized by Mahmoud Khalaf

People say: "Family always comes First," and to that, I say: "Amen!".… Mahmoud Khalaf needs your support for Death chases my family in Gaza;

Tagging for reach <3

@riding-with-the-wild-hunt @ibtisams @vakarians-babe @90-ghost @sayruq @fairuzfan @sar-soor @fallahifag

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@plomegranate @queerstudiesnatural @commissions4aid-international @nabulsi @stil-lindigo @soon-palestine @communistchilchuck @palestinegenocide @northgazaupdates2 @northgazaupdates @ghost-and-a-half @kyra45-helping-others @kyra45 @commissions4aid-international @feluka @appsa

trout

Trout. Trout? Trout!

It’s rare to feel happy in northern Gaza. But the other day, my sister Soso made me smile.

It’s not a lie that sugar is expensive. 1kg is $80. Frying oil is $70. That donut was expensive to make, even without the sugar. But it’s okay. Even if it means the adults can’t eat, it’s okay. Soso was happy for a few hours. She’s only 4 years old yet her life is already so hard. She’s not growing properly due to malnutrition and trauma. Her mental health is in shambles, not at all how a child should be. Since birth, two wars have come very close to killing her, so we just want her to be happy.

Please help me make her happy every day. A few days ago, she was the happiest child in the world because she ate an apple for the first time in a year. That won’t happen again because fruits are too expensive, but I swear, she explodes with joy when we buy vegetables too. She is a child with simple dreams.

Please don’t feel hesitant to help me, my campaign has been vetted!

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #347 )✅️

Chuffed

Help Rawan's family rebuild their lives in the war after tragic loss

I am Rawan from northern Gaza, a 21-year-old Palestinian engineer. I launched this campaign as a last hope to escape this dark reality that

Forgive me, tagging for reach again, please share I beg you @timetravellingkitty @deathlonging @briarhips @mahoushojoe @sar-soor @rhubarbspring @schoolhater98 @pcktknife @sawasawako @appsa @anneemay @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria @mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @7bittersweet @tortiefrancis @ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @communistchameleon @dykesbat @komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts @watermotif @stuckinaprill @mavigator @lacecap @determinate-negation @deepspaceboytoy @paper-mario-wiki @kibumkim @neechees @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sapphic-dino @rooh-afza @shesnake @totallynotsilversora @nabulsi @gazavetters @gaza @gazanarchive @palestine @palesttino @palestinianliberator @palestinianrose

A Final Plea from the Heart of Hell: Save Us Before Hope Dies 💔🔥

Hi, I'm Hani 🤗

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Donate to Rebuilding the Homeland and Restoring Hope: Hani's Journey, organized by Hani Yasser

Hope in the Face of Adversity: Supporting Hani to Rebuild His L… Hani Yasser needs your support for Rebuilding the Homeland and Restoring Ho

I am Hani, a 26-year-old young man from Gaza. I no longer have anything but words, written by a trembling hand ✍️. The war didn’t just destroy our lives; it took everything from us. Our home, the refuge that once sheltered us, is now a pile of rubble 🏚️. My car, my only source of livelihood, was destroyed in a sudden strike 🚗, and the work that once sustained us is now a distant memory 💼.

Today, I live in an unending nightmare. Under a sun that burns everything in its path 🌞🔥, my family and I sit in a worn-out tent, a tent that neither shields us from the summer heat nor the winter cold ❄️. Insects 🦟 invade the place, diseases consume our bodies 🩺, and my younger siblings cry from hunger and thirst 🍞💧. We have no clean water, nor a crumb of bread to ease our hunger. Each passing day deepens the weight of this hell we live in.

My Little Brother is Dying of Fear 😨

My little brother, seven years old, is dying of fear. His eyes never stop crying 😢. Every morning, with a voice choked by tears, he asks me: "When will we go back to our home?" But I have no answer. Every look in his eyes 👁️, every tear that falls from them 💧, crushes my heart 💔. How can I explain to him that the hope which once was our lifeline has now turned into nothing but a mirage?

The Night Only Adds to Our Pain 🌙

The night doesn’t bring us rest, it only adds to our pain. We sleep on hard ground, feeling the in every bone of our bodies 🥶, with nothing but pieces of cardboard 📦 to cover us. My older sister cries in silence 🥺 as she watches the future fade before her eyes. My sick mother, in desperate need of medical care 🩺💊, suffers in complete silence. My father, who was once the pillar of our family 👨‍👧‍👦, is now confined by his own weakness, unable to move or work.

We Are Nearing the End ⚰️

Every day we live brings us one step closer to the end. Death surrounds us from every side: if not from hunger 🍽️, then from illness 🦠. And if not from illness, then from the despair that devours our souls.

Where is Humanity? Where is the World? 🌍💔

Where are the people of compassion? Are you waiting for us to vanish into the depths of this suffering? Are you waiting until death takes us before you act? We are drowning, and we don’t have enough strength to scream for help 🆘. Will you let this cry go unanswered? 😭

Your donation today is our last thread of hope. Thanks to a few people, I was able to buy a simple phone 📱 to reach out to you, but the bitter truth is that what I and my family need is much greater. We are not asking for much; just enough to save our lives from this hell 🔥. Every donation, no matter how small, could be the difference between life and death for us 👐.

Don’t Let Us Disappear in the Darkness of Suffering 🌑

Don’t let our story end here. Be the light that guides us to salvation 🕯️✨.

gofundme.com

Donate to Rebuilding the Homeland and Restoring Hope: Hani's Journey, organized by Hani Yasser

Hope in the Face of Adversity: Supporting Hani to Rebuild His L… Hani Yasser needs your support for Rebuilding the Homeland and Restoring Ho

With every tear, with every pain, I write this final plea to you, 

Hani

My campaign vetted by @gazavetters link vetted

picrew and last song you listened to <3

Picrew

crow's character creator :)

- free to use! just credit me please :D - tag me @crowwithapen on instagram and tiktok ✿ - do not use for commercial use of any sort!! th

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On the hundredth day after the new year the heralds come to the doors of the city, announcing the arrival of the Golden Caravan at the farthest stop of its route ; like every year, citizens and travellers will surely gather at the western door to see it come to pass.

Right behind the banners as customary are the sculptor priests, foremost of the stonemason orders, bringing in this year's votive masterwork for the festivities. The black and white steppe oxen precede the arrival of the head guild architect, charged with the safekeeping of the citizens' sacred geometry. The graduating apprentices and newly welcomed novices walk besides the draftsroom carriage, bearing the icons of the Citizen Architects Guild : ardor and patience. Out of the kilns of the imperial workshops come delicate masterwork sought after the world over ; the sister-ceramists are selected from various key regions of the trade system and bring their local styles to the imperial production. Those workshops are the northernmost stop on the caravan's route.

Behind the masons, the torchbearers announce the arrival of the metalworkers' guilds, chief of which the head goldsmith on a palanquin of her own design. The braseros and forges are continuously tended by guild kindlers as to remain lit throughout the entire voyage of the caravan. Second to last comes the host of the manticore, behind the braseros of the master kindlers. It is believed that the creature requires her caretakers to be pure of heart and most diligent ; the honour is bestowed only on the highest performing apprentices of the smithing guilds. On the last day finally, behind the last of the apprentices, the crones of the chain count the days left to craft, keeping misfortune at work away, and, some even say, Death itself.

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Donate to Urgent: Help me to save my family’s life, organized by Rola AbuMostafa

I am Rola Abu hashem, married to Tamer Abu Mostafa, l am a mother of four chi… Rola AbuMostafa needs your support for Urgent: Help me to sav

Verrified by @90-ghost here

Happy Pride month y’all!