Here is the link to my new campaign for the third time after my campaign was deleted and my money was stolen and I did not take anything for my children. I hope you are well and help me with an urgent donation for my children. We need food, drink and shelter such as tents, tarpaulins and treatment.π’
It is cold resignation.
He can afford to be ignorant.
We are the Abu Ras family, once living peacefully in the northern Gaza Strip. Like so many others, our lives were upended by the ongoing war. Our home was destroyed in the north, and we were forced to leave everything behind and embark on a harrowing journey of displacement through several cities in the southern Gaza Strip. Now, we live in tents in the heart of the region, struggling to survive and rebuild.
The war not only took our home but also our livelihoods. We lost our jobs and the means to provide for our family. But despite the hardships, we are determined to rise again and rebuild our lives. However, we cannot do it alone.
We are asking for your support to help us secure a safe home and rebuild a new future for our children. Every donation, no matter how small, will help us take a step toward that goal. Your generosity can bring hope and stability to a family that has lost so much.
Please consider donating to help the Abu Ras family survive this difficult time and rebuild our lives.
Thank you for your kindness and support.
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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?
urgent / A chance to save a life at a critical moment
Please share and reblog to save my family ππΉ
π/To Alaa and my family in Gaza
My dear friends
I hope everyone will donate and share my story.
It's been days... and the donations have stopped. πβΌοΈ
π 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.
Itβs been three days since weβve received any help. π
πΈ Even a small donation can make a world of difference.
π 5 can give us food for a day.
π 10 can help with medicine for our father.
π $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. π
It seems I am wishing on the farthest star
To achieve what I, alone have earned,
The destruction of what once was home,
seems like a faraway memory, instead of a tomb.
I miss the hunger-smells, and the deathless soil
lively and untouched by the tyrannical hand,
I should've known
that I was wishing on the farthest star
in this lonely night sky,
where family is torn apart at the seams,
and little stars burn out,
and big Suns explode.
I am the slow burning fuse planted 'neath the earth of my home
Ne'er did they find the core of the tick, tick, ticks of time burning,
For the final bow was inevitable,
and this home of ours was never meant to be,
I am this slow-burning fuse,
Forever, lay the scent of TNT.
...Now, the reminiscent stench of gunpowder,
Clings to my coat like an old friend,
that once stabbed me in the back some time ago,
I frown when this sweater of mine smells of cigarette smoke,
The last remaining memory from Before,
tainted with the poignant, lingering smell of who I have come to be,
I chose this path myself,
Please, do not follow me.
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.
O Wind o' mine
Take me far above your Cathedral spire
Above the children's chatter and the morning prayers
Above the bards' glory-driven drivels and the merry-minded man,
Dance me a tune to last my lifetime
Sing me a song to serenade the sorrowful,
loved, and losing,
To watch over the cramped common crowd
In a bar where the drowned come to commiserate
as I, their god,
Ne'er be free as the god most lonely,
May the wind bring me companions
and I shall watch them come and go
as I, left behind where they would call home.
Donation link you can support me through