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the abuse and humiliation Greta Thunberg is going through at the hands of the Israelis needs to be put in context with the dehumanising torture Palestinian prisoners are put through on the daily: the fact that darling Greta can be blindfolded and forced to crawl and kiss the Israeli flags - despite her international popularity and the protection her own government should guarantee her - is only possible because Israelis are allowed to beat, humiliate, starve and rape Palestinians to literal death without anyone stopping them.
really valuable little piece from a 17 year old poet and writer in gaza about the reality and indignity of relying on foreign aid solicited online. this has been the reality for gazans since the beginning of the genocide when a lot of people lost their jobs. while a lot of discourse around online fundraising understandably centers the necessity of this aid (or, less sympathetically, the feelings of westerners who object to the knowledge of our position of power that gazan fundraisers reveal) i really think the perspectives of the palestinians who do the e-begging has been lost.
notice how his post never once suggests you should /stop/ aiding gazans through donations or even deprioritize it. what he is asking is explicitly solidarity, not charity. while it cannot undo the hierarchy inherent to the practice, radical charity is a thing and i think we owe it to people like yazan that we do not see gazans as a helpless population (or a horde invading our attention) but people in their own right using the tools available for them, as we use the tools available to us to help keep them alive.
this post was taken from @abolishtheusa on instagram, and yazan's instagram is @yazan._.mohammd. here is his chuffed fundraiser.
here is the linktree for the sameer project, a which also relies on donations and is running seriously low on funds
here is the website for workshops 4 gaza, which sells radical books and tickets to exclusive workshops in exchange for donations to the sameer project and other fundraisers
This is Yazan who recently created the organization Bridge of Solidarity, which focuses on getting aid to people without phones or social media, and those without living relatives.
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I almost said I loved him but I didn’t, not because I didn’t, but because loving him meant waiting, and I didn’t want to do that again, I was so tired of waiting, loving for me has been a long wait, until they’re ready, until I am ready, until we’re both in the right headspace,
I for once like to wish that love is something I don’t have to wait for, that we could love people as they are, we could love them as we are. I don’t want to wait for love, I want it to arrive unannounced and as ugly as it seems, love for me doesn’t have to be perfect, I just want it to be there. For once I want love to be waiting for me. I want to arrive late and find love there.
It feels like yearning has taken root in me. I try to detach but it holds on to me with its claws and I’m bleeding in places I’ll probably never heal from. Wanting has always been a test, I refuse to believe it’s greed. There’s no emptiness like this, hunger that cannot be satiated. Prayers that are unheard, unanswered. There’s no way, God would create a heart like mine and not create its mate. That would be cruel.
I think I could marry him if he asked me to and I’m not kidding when I say this, but three months ago, I hated the idea of marriage so much. I swear I’d pull my hair if someone said I’d change my mind soon, but laying there in bed with him, asking me “are you happy now?” I couldn’t say “yes, I think if I could, I’d freeze this moment.” I think I’d have said “I’m worried you’ll see happiness oozing out of me” and when he said “you’re so warm” I’d wanted to say “you make me feel like I’ve swallowed the sun” and I wish I could talk in metaphors, but I might be falling in love right now, and half of me is so scared, because this could either end up being the biggest heartbreak for me, or I could end up having his children.
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In the debris of my heart, was written the reason why I kept my head above the water. Now I’m trying not to swallow the kitchen knives despite the abundance of love. An act of violence, bruises passed down like family heirlooms, so close to loving someone. It’s terrifying. They say a name kept under the tongue becomes blood. So I hold a revolver to my memories. “you know I’m always going to love you” says a voicemail. If I drown in sadness, is it suicide?
Hello 👋, My name is Momen Al Madhoun / I am a digital artist / a devoted husband / a father of two children " Ezzdeen & Amir "
I live in Gaza City in the heart of the Genocide, working tirelessly to amplify my voice to the world through my artwork.
I walk long distances to access electricity and internet, creating under harsh conditions to ensure my voice reaches the Tumblr community through my art.
I hope you support me to continue surviving and ensure the safety of my family.
Thank you for your time. Stay safe 🙏
Hello, My name is Mosab Elderawi, and I live in Gaza with my family. Life here has become harder than I ever imagined, and I’m writing this with hope in my heart that you might hear our story.
The ongoing war has devastated my family. We’ve lost 25 family members—each one a beloved part of our lives, taken too soon. I miss them deeply—their laughter, their presence, their love. Every day is a reminder of this unimaginable loss.
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We are now facing daily challenges to survive—things that most people take for granted, like food, clean water, and a safe place to sleep. The harsh realities of life here have replaced our dreams with the constant fight for survival.
Our Current Situation:
💔 Lost Stability: The war has left us without work or a stable source of income. 🍞 Basic Needs: Food and water are becoming harder to afford with rising prices and scarce resources. 📚 Dreams on Hold: Like so many here, my family’s dreams have been replaced by the need to simply survive. 😢 Unimaginable Loss: Losing 25 loved ones has left a void that can never be filled.
How You Can Help:
I’m sharing our story with the hope that someone out there might care. Even $5 can make a big difference for us, and if you’re unable to donate, just reblogging this post can help spread the word.
Your kindness, no matter how small, is something we’ll never forget.
What This Means to Us:
Your support is not about changing our entire situation—it’s about giving us a little relief, a little hope, and a way to keep going. We are not asking for much, and we understand if you can’t donate. Sharing our story is just as valuable to us as a donation.
Thank you for reading this far. It means the world to us to know that someone is listening. Your kindness gives us strength and helps us believe in a better tomorrow.
With all our gratitude, Mosab Elderawi and Family ❤️
✅️ Vetted by ✅️
@gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #309 )✅️
Hello Everyone, I am Mosab Suleiman Al Derawi, 28 years old, my wife Nadine Adel A… Mosab Derawi needs your support for Help me saving who's
Imagine calling Palestinians documenting their own genocide on their iPhones powered by a MacGyvered car battery "misinformation" because it hasn't been backed up and approved of by 40 peer-reviewed data analysts from the West that you personally approve of. I can't imagine being that ghoulish and heartless
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So I found Aaron Bushnell's reddit and went through his comments/posts. That young man was well read and stable as they can be. Nothing in his writings pointed to someone who was "unstable" or "brainwashed".
He held leftist and anarchist ideals. He belong to the ACAB subreddit. He recognized the evil of the US Military even though he himself was a part of it. He hated TERFS and called out fatphobia. He understood the dangers of white supremecy and the evils of capitalism.
He had a cat. He liked the show fleabag and played elden ring.
Apparently in his will he wants to leave any money in his name to palestinian relief funds. He was trying to find a new owner for his cat.
Rest in peace Aaron Bushnell. The world won't forget & we sure as fuck won't let the media paint you out to be some crazy conspiracy theorist who had no idea what he was doing.
It’s not often that I meet someone and think I want them in my life for the rest of my life. It was hard for me to find a way to make people fit in my existing fabric of life but almost 8 months with you and I guess I have moved some patterns and rituals because I have already decided that I want you in that limited space. I’ve lived my entire life very quietly, but ever since meeting you, I have realized that I want to sit in the sun more often. However my life unfolds, I want to live it. I hope you know that.
I have had favorite memories throughout my entire life but I have never had comforting memories except with you, of course. Now that I think of those mornings that I walked with you, I feel sufficient. It may have not been a lot for someone looking from afar, but I have had the best conversations during that borrowed time. They say memory is punishment, clearly they haven’t spent time with you.
My life was always eventful with you, remember when we joked about it? How we always went hunting people? Those are good memories to me. I hope it is to you as well. I wish I had said this to you in person, you inspire me in so many aspects of life. From those little reminder notes on your desk, and the clean desk of yours to your valuable organization skills. I have always been in awe of that. I liked that you were generous with a margin. I wish to have that someday.
You are comfort in a person. You made me feel like it cannot be a mistake, or an error to have cared, however simple something was. You made me want to be tender to myself. To exist with you seemed effortless to me. I truly wish I had met you when I was seventeen but it’s alright. I like to think you are the answer to the prayer I made when I was seventeen.
I guarded myself well around others, but with you the line was very thin. Somedays I would not be able to tell the difference between the real me and the person I was trying to be. To be very honest, I was my best self when I was with you. There was no pretending when I was spending time with you.
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