um num num

hii just in case u didnt know: im fat! and i love my life!

being fat is okay! you can be happy and fat! kill the weight watchers sales rep in your head!

signed, barley. i love you ❤️ fat liberation now!

you are never too fat to be loved you are never too fat to be beautiful you are never too fat to be desirable in every way

Help a disabled woman to keep her utilities on!!

Wednesday, July 22nd: Hello, everyone. I’m Gem, a bi, mentally ill, and multiple disabled woman in desperate need of help, as I'm struggling to keep my utilities on!!

I apologise for asking for help again. As most of you know from my previous posts, I have been struggling to make ends meet while on welfare. And due to my outstanding bills and ever-increasing debt, it has been difficult for me to get by. These past few months have been absolute hell, and with no other income, I've been relying on the kindness of others to get by.

However, I desperately need that kindness again, as I wasn't able to pay my bills last month because I was behind on my rent, and I've been trying to keep my sister afloat during her benefit sanctions. I'm struggling quite a lot to keep my utilities on. I don't receive until the 31st, and I'm also running out of groceries!!

Again, I know this is a lot to ask, but if anyone could spare any amount to help me, even if it’s just £1/$1/€1, it would mean a lot, and sharing helps just as much. 

Thank you!! ❤️

£0/£80!!

Help a disabled woman to keep her utilities on!!

Wednesday, July 22nd: Hello, everyone. I’m Gem, a bi, mentally ill, and multiple disabled woman in desperate need of help, as I'm struggling to keep my utilities on!!

I apologise for asking for help again. As most of you know from my previous posts, I have been struggling to make ends meet while on welfare. And due to my outstanding bills and ever-increasing debt, it has been difficult for me to get by. These past few months have been absolute hell, and with no other income, I've been relying on the kindness of others to get by.

However, I desperately need that kindness again, as I wasn't able to pay my bills last month because I was behind on my rent, and I've been trying to keep my sister afloat during her benefit sanctions. I'm struggling quite a lot to keep my utilities on. I don't receive until the 31st, and I'm also running out of groceries!!

Again, I know this is a lot to ask, but if anyone could spare any amount to help me, even if it’s just £1/$1/€1, it would mean a lot, and sharing helps just as much. 

Thank you!! ❤️

£0/£80!!

Every single dollar counts!!

@endigolikesarson In the original, for the running joke regarding Valant and doors, Apollo calls Valant a muggle

While in the remaster, he says this which is way funnier even without the baggage

A strange silence filled me, as if time had carried me back to those heavy days days of war and hunger, when even the simplest things felt like miracles. Images and memories tangled in my mind until they settled on one moment I will never forget the moment of the sheep.

We didn’t know where it came from or how it found its way to us through all that destruction. It was lost, wandering, on the verge of death. Deep down, we knew that if we didn’t take it, it wouldn’t survive the harshness of the war.

We lived through days that felt like a siege, days we still don’t understand how we survived except by God’s grace. We lived on so little, counting the hours, trying to convince ourselves that tomorrow would be kinder.

And then my brother came back.

He was carrying bags of meat a sight we could never have imagined in the middle of the famine we were living through. We were shocked. We kept asking: where did this come from? How?

He sat with us and began to tell his story how he saw the sheep struggling to stay alive, how he took it, slaughtered it with his own hands, skinned it, then shared it with his friends and brought us his portion.

In that moment, the meat was not just food it was joy, it was survival, it was the feeling of life returning to us again.

We had no electricity, no refrigerator to save anything for the next day, so we cooked it all. That moment turned into a real feast. My uncles and relatives came, and we laughed despite everything as if we were stealing joy from the heart of war.

It was a different night warm, full of life, despite all the death around us.

And then everything went back to how it was.

The hard days returned, and we missed the taste of meat for a long time until that devastating war finally ended.

But that memory stayed with us, carved into our hearts, always reminding us that even in the harshest moments life can still give us a moment of warmth that will never be forgotten.

https://gofund.me/92f948d97

Still in the prime of his youth, at an age that is meant to be filled with dreams, laughter, friends, and a love of life.

But the war came to us without asking permission.

It exhausted us and stole our years before their time.

We grew up suddenly older than our ages, heavier than our ability to endure.

It came when we were at the beginning of the road, at the beginning of life and opportunity.

But this was our fate.

I want to tell you my brother’s story,

and how he struggled for us so that we could remain steadfast

amid conditions so harsh they barely resemble life.

In a time when survival itself became an act of courage,

Mohammed worked at the heart of danger,

as if his life did not belong to him alone,

but were a trust he carried for all of us.

He left every day knowing the road might not bring him back,

knowing that danger was not a distant possibility,

but a constant companion.

And still he went on.

Not because he did not feel fear,

but because he knew someone was waiting,

and that retreat sometimes means others will fall.

I see him facing the war without armor,

armed only with his belief that what he was doing was a necessity,

and that dignity cannot be postponed until the shelling ends.

My brother does not carry a weapon,

but he carries a heavier burden:

the responsibility of life

amid collective death.

Every time I hear his voice,

I realize that courage is not shouting or staged heroics,

but silent steps taken despite trembling,

and faces that return exhausted yet unbroken.

Mohammed used to extract diesel and locally made fuel from pieces of plastic.

Yes from plastic.

An achievement only the youth of Gaza could accomplish,

when all doors are closed

and nothing remains but trying.

He helped everyone in the north

paramedics, civil defense workers, and ordinary people without any compensation,

because it was his human duty above all else.

It was the most dangerous work he could do,

but there was no other choice.

He was not alone.

He worked with his lifelong friend, Ahmed

a companion of the road, the soul, the work, and life itself.

Then Ahmed was martyred.

He and his entire family.

One missile erased a home, memories, and whole dreams.

Ahmed was like another brother to me.

I cried so much for him and for his beautiful family.

And I saw Mohammed for the first time defeated.

Broken.

Crying.

Yes, he cried.

Because he lost his lifelong friend,

the companion of the hardest days,

and watched a part of his soul

be buried beneath the rubble.

God is sufficient for us, and He is the best disposer of affairs.

Mohammed and Ahmed are not numbers in a news bulletin.

Mohammed is the story of a human being

still resisting, still trying to remain standing.

And Ahmed is the story of a martyr,

who worked under fire

so that life would not be completely extinguished.💔✊✌️

I want to speak a little about them. Chocolate, my first cat, is four years old, and I pray he is granted a long life. I have cared for him since the day he came to me; he has his own vaccination booklet and even a passport. I love him deeply and cannot imagine life without him.

Chocolate lived through the entire war of extermination, and by God’s will, he survived it safely just as we did. He endured displacement, loss, and the scarcity of medicine and food, staying by our side every single moment. When he hears the sound of an explosion, he runs and hides in a place known only to him. And when we are forced to flee, we do not look for anything or anyone but him only him. We fear for him more than anything else.

He ate dry bread, lentils, and rice, just as we did. Sometimes, he went to sleep hungry, like us. But he is an animal who does not understand patience; he would ask for food, and my heart would ache for him. I would stay awake with him, playing and comforting him until food finally arrived.

Those days have passed. Chocolate lived them with us their bitterness and their sweetness. We pray they never return, and that God protects us and protects my beautiful cats.

I will stop here for now in telling Chocolate’s story, and later I will share the story of Tinka, my other cat, Chocolate’s little son. 🐾🤍

All the love from chocolate is owner ,FARAH .

Help link for my family and cats .

My campaign has been documented from this reliable account with you💔🙏🏻