The leafy boy

oh hey!! yea sorry we quit discord lol... nothing happened it was just getting super annoying constantly juggling between tumblr and discord tabs and it had to reload everytime and it was super laggy ^^"

Bonus:

Hello! I am working on a Roblox Retrostudio survival game called Until The Clock Strikes 25! I do not ask for people to help, only to give me some support, even if it's from the sidelines! <3

More info under the cut!

Every time I try to write, images rush through my mind: The sound of explosions, the cries of children, my mother trying to comfort us while her heart trembles, and my father staring at the sky as if asking it, "Will this night ever end?"

I’m from Gaza 🇵🇸 — a place where survival has become a daily achievement. A land that doesn’t sleep, doesn’t rest, and never truly heals. Our home didn’t survive, and many of my loved ones didn’t either. I am one of the few who made it out from under the rubble… not by strength, but by chance. Still, I chose to speak.

I don’t write to complain or to beg for pity… I write to say: we are still here. We’re still trying. We still believe that goodness hasn’t completely faded, and that somewhere out there are hearts that still care ❤️

If you’ve read this far, you’re one of the rare people who chose to stop, to read, to care. And that alone gives us new hope ✨

If you can help — even with a word or a share — know that it truly makes a difference. And if you choose to donate, you're giving more than money… you're giving life.

My name is Abdelmajed. I never imagined I’d be sharing my story like this, but life in Gaza has become unbearable. I am a survivor of the war here, and in the blink of an eye, everything I once knew—my home, my safety, my community—was ripped away from me.

The war has transformed Gaza into a graveyard of broken dreams. The buildings that once stood as symbols of life and resilience are now piles of rubble. Every corner is filled with the echoes of explosions. Every moment is shrouded in uncertainty. There is no security. There is no stability. There is no light at the end of the tunnel.

Basic needs have become luxuries. Food is scarce. Clean water is even scarcer. Hospitals are overwhelmed and under-resourced, and there is almost no medical care to be found. Every night, families go to bed hungry, praying they’ll wake up to see another day. The cost of basic necessities has skyrocketed, and it’s become a daily battle just to survive.

I’ve seen things I never thought possible—standing in long lines for a piece of bread, rationing every drop of water, and watching my people suffer in silence. I have lost everything—my home, my safety, my dignity.

Escape from Gaza is my only hope, but it’s almost impossible without financial help. The cost of evacuation is far beyond my means, and without support, I’m trapped in a warzone with no way out.

I’m reaching out to you now, in the hopes that someone, anyone, can help. I am not asking for luxury. I am asking for a chance—just a chance—to live. A chance to escape this never-ending cycle of fear, destruction, and loss. A chance to rebuild my life somewhere safe, where I can begin again, where I can find hope once more.

Any amount you can give will help me get closer to safety. Even the smallest donation will make a difference—it could be the lifeline I need to survive. If you are unable to donate, please share my story. The more people who hear it, the better the chance that I can find the support I desperately need.

Your kindness and support mean the world to me. You’re not just helping me escape a war; you’re giving me a chance to live, to rebuild, to breathe again.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for caring.

Every time I try to write, images rush through my mind: The sound of explosions, the cries of children, my mother trying to comfort us while her heart trembles, and my father staring at the sky as if asking it, "Will this night ever end?"

I’m from Gaza 🇵🇸 — a place where survival has become a daily achievement. A land that doesn’t sleep, doesn’t rest, and never truly heals. Our home didn’t survive, and many of my loved ones didn’t either. I am one of the few who made it out from under the rubble… not by strength, but by chance. Still, I chose to speak.

I don’t write to complain or to beg for pity… I write to say: we are still here. We’re still trying. We still believe that goodness hasn’t completely faded, and that somewhere out there are hearts that still care ❤️

If you’ve read this far, you’re one of the rare people who chose to stop, to read, to care. And that alone gives us new hope ✨

If you can help — even with a word or a share — know that it truly makes a difference. And if you choose to donate, you're giving more than money… you're giving life.