good morning children

Hello dear people

I am Nabila from Gaza,, I am 64 years old ,,

speaking to you with a heavy and painful heart. I am sorry that I had to ask for help from you, but what we are living is what pushed me to do this. I was living a beautiful, quiet life, enjoying the time I spend with my grandchildren and seven daughters.

Imagine waking up to find that your world has changed in a moment, and you have lost your security and peace, and your home has been destroyed, and you have become homeless and living in conditions that no human being can bear. I suffer from chronic diseases, high blood pressure and diabetes. My medication has run out for some time and I am facing difficulty in obtaining it in light of the lack of treatment in hospitals and health centers. Most of the time I cannot feel my limbs, but I am trying to resist. I do not want to die in such circumstances. I still have hope that this war will end and we will rebuild our beautiful and beloved country again and live in safety. I believe in divine power and justice and that all this pain will go away.

I am trying to endure these difficult conditions that I live in inside a small tent and a bathroom a few meters away from my tent and you know the conditions of diabetics in this case but once again there is still hope. I used to live at the expense of my daughters but with all sadness and regret they have all lost their homes and places of work and they have no source of income left and their situation is like that of any Gazan who is still inside Gaza struggling with death, hunger, diseases and extreme heat each one struggling to feed his children I cannot ask them for help so I have resorted to you and I am fully confident in your humanity to help me so that I can provide food and treatment and provide a better tent than the one I live in because it is torn and the place is full of insects. If I can provide treatment, I want to continue my life and see my grandchildren grow up around me. I don’t want to go now. I know that I don’t have as much life left as I have, but I have the right to live and enjoy this. Please don’t hesitate to help your mother who has come to you with a heavy and sad heart. Every dollar will make a difference in my life. Don’t leave me to live this pain. I appreciate what you are doing for every Palestinian inside and outside Gaza. I pray to God that you don’t go through what we are going through, my beloved.

Medical visits and insulin: $5000

Travel and transportation to hospital, coordination with Egypt's border: $5000

My campaing vetted by

@90-ghost

Why would anyone actually want him? I keep seeing people fall over themselves over his— ugh. They’ve got no idea what it’s like! To have to deal with HIM.

Just thinking about this pisses me off, I need another glass… mm.

Anyway!— he’s insatiable. Wanting, wanting, wanting. Nothing’s ever just “good enough”. He always… wants— needs more. Doesn’t take no for answer. Never does. Never will.

Not to mention how fucking obsessive he is; can’t do shit without him knowing. Can’t go anywhere. It’s like he’s allergic to the concept of privacy!— Good luck getting him to give a damn if you tell him, “no, actually, I don’t want to be STALKED AND SURVEILLED 24/7.”

Which is just GREAT, cuz he’s possessive as all hell. “My dog”, “my partner”, “my Chuuya”, mine-mine-mine. It’s— it’s just… fuckin… all he cares about— OWNING. Can’t hardly talk to anyone without him getting weird about it. He’ll nitpick every little thing like it’s an interrogation. And— ugh! FUCK THAT, I’M MY OWN PERSON!

He’s so childish about it, like a kid who throws a tantrum cuz someone else wants to play with his toys. Pisses me off… I’m— I’m not a toy. I don’t want to be a.. a toy. Or a pet. I’m… I… Gah, whatever. Where was I?

Oh, yeah, why he’s a piece of shit…

He treats everything like it’s some kind of game, like— if he says and does the right thing, he “wins”. Press the right buttons, tell the right lies, move the chess pieces. He’d not even honest about it! HE PLAYS DIRTY! He’s always finding new ways to rig the game and win all his stupid prizes… and you can’t play with him, cuz nobody’s on that freak’s level except Dostoyevsky.

Except it’s not a fucking game. Real people die. Suffer. Bleed. Who the hell wants to be with someone like that? Tch. I wouldn’t hate it so much if he played fair… cuz the second you try and play against him, you’ve already lost.

So who wants a guy like that? Whose idea of a relationship is a skewed, fucked-up collar and leash?— Nobody. That’s why he can’t do anything but break ladies’ hearts and have anything other than flings. He uses people. Devours them. It’s all he knows how to do.

But no matter how much he eats, he’s always starving to death. Cuz… it’s not what he’s looking for. He’d rather maintain this hell of his own making than change, because commitment to improvement means commitment to— to living. And that’s hard. So he’ll take the easy way out and fuck someone else over.

To… to be honest? I’d pity him if he wasn’t so dead-set on ruining.. m… my— ugh... Being that lonely and miserable…. But— it’s no excuse for treating people like shit, dammit…

I know all of this… I know why he’s the worst…