from that day on I was his

“They call us now, before they drop the bombs. The phone rings and someone who knows my first name calls and says in perfect Arabic “This is David.” And in my stupor of sonic booms and glass-shattering symphonies still smashing around in my head I think, Do I know any Davids in Gaza? They call us now to say Run. You have 58 seconds from the end of this message. Your house is next. They think of it as some kind of war-time courtesy. It doesn’t matter that there is nowhere to run to. It means nothing that the borders are closed and your papers are worthless and mark you only for a life sentence in this prison by the sea and the alleyways are narrow and there are more human lives packed one against the other more than any other place on earth Just run. We aren’t trying to kill you. It doesn’t matter that you can’t call us back to tell us the people we claim to want aren’t in your house that there’s no one here except you and your children who were cheering for Argentina sharing the last loaf of bread for this week counting candles left in case the power goes out. It doesn’t matter that you have children. You live in the wrong place and now is your chance to run to nowhere. It doesn’t matter that 58 seconds isn’t long enough to find your wedding album or your son’s favorite blanket or your daughter’s almost completed college application or your shoes or to gather everyone in the house. It doesn’t matter what you had planned. It doesn’t matter who you are. Prove you’re human. Prove you stand on two legs. Run.”

—

Lena Khalaf Tuffaha, Running Orders                                            

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/143255/running-orders

as a trans person I've always empathised with the figure of the minotaur - an outcast, belonging in neither the human nor the animal world, made out to be a monster. I wanted to try out a two-layer lino print again after a few years, and this is the result! prints available in my shop rejka.bigcartel. com

ALT

@mariyyum twitter post:

Recipes that have been passed down to me by my Palestinian mother 🇵🇸, and I've had the honor of sharing them with all of you. #freepalestine

1: Cheese Manakeesh (cheese pies)

2: Homemade Hummus w/ chicken koufta

3: Msakhan (the National dish of Palestine)

4: Sfeeha (meet pies)

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fighting a boss in a video game repeatedly without changing anything about your character/team/stats is a weird place between ‘the definition of insanity is doing something repeatedly and expecting different results’ and ‘it only has to work once’

baldur's gate 3 is just. break the abuse and trauma cycle. being forced to believe a certain way is wrong. there is more outside of the small window that i perceived the world to be. i will create my own identity. maybe the people i thought loved me did not, in fact, have my best interests at heart. i need to find the clown's body parts so the drag queen can resurrect him. my destiny is not written in stone.

Day 6 | Camp

ALT

How Festive the Ambulance, Kim Fu

Continuing my Disco Elysium style portraits series, Daud The Knife of Dunwall

decolonizepalestine.com is an easy to navigate website run by two palestinians which breaks down common myths about palestine and provides a reading list organized by a wide variety of categories ranging from history and culture to media and censorship. it’s a good starting point to use if you want to learn more about the modern day situation in palestine and understand the truth behind myths that have been perpetuated about israel’s occupation of palestine.

chosen one not as in the one the prophecy foretold but as in lamb to the slaughter. as in the only person both brave and foolish enough to do it. chosen one as in sculpted, molded to be the perfect sacrifice to something expertly, divinely crafted to annihilate you wholly and surely. chosen one as in taken away. chosen one as in death sentence. chosen one as in goodbye

Tav loves them, your honour

you know what’s really fun and in style right now? being kind and making others feel loved and valued