Litan, 1982, Jean-Pierre Mocky
you'll be torn open and laid bare.
hehe and then what
it’s so true that the greatest weapon against nihilism and existential despair is to find joy in the mundane and never stop chasing after love
May Sarton, The House by the Sea
Silsila (1981), India
✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #329 )✅️
‼️Please don’t skip taking a look 🍉🇵🇸I am
ahmad from Gaza. I am 26 years old. I stand before you as a person trying to preserve his family. 🇵🇸💔💔
We try to live under miserable conditions in tents in Mawasi Khan Yunis, south of Gaza. It is difficult for me to find the words to describe what we face every day in Gaza. No food, no medicine, no clean drinking water, oppression, helplessness, psychological pressures, doubts, and daily trauma due to the loss of loved ones. In Gaza, it's not just hunger, disease and fear; Rather, it means actual death.
With a heart weighed down by sorrow, I reach out to you, hoping that kindness and humanity still shine in this world. My family and I have lost everything—the home that once sheltered us, the walls that echoed with laughter, the warmth and security that every human deserves. The relentless attacks on Gaza have turned our lives into a daily fight for survival. What was once a place of comfort and love is now nothing but rubble, and we are left with nothing but the clothes on our backs and a fragile tent that barely stands against the bitter cold.
Now, our days and nights are consumed by hardship. The icy wind pierces through the thin fabric of our tent, leaving us shivering, with no escape from the freezing temperatures. Food is scarce, clean water is hard to find, and the most basic necessities have become luxuries beyond our reach. Every day, we struggle—not just to live, but to preserve the dignity that war tries to strip away.
Amid this suffering, a new life was brought into the world—my brother’s daughter, an innocent soul who took her first breath in a tent instead of a warm home, her tiny body wrapped in whatever scraps of fabric we could find. She was born not into joy, but into loss, into hunger, into the unforgiving reality of war. And as we watch her, so fragile and pure, our hearts break knowing that we cannot give her the comfort and security she deserves and we cannot provide enough milk, diapers, medicines, and vitamins for her😭😭😭😭💔💔💔
I do not ask for much—just a little help to keep us going through these unimaginable times. A warm blanket to protect us from the cold, food to fill our empty stomachs, or even simply sharing our story so that others may hear our cries for help. Every small act of kindness can make a difference. 💔🍉🇵🇸😭
Your generosity has the power to bring warmth to our freezing nights, hope to our despair, and life to those struggling to survive. May the kindness you extend be returned to you a hundredfold.
Donation link⬇️⬇️
What are your favorite Arabic poems, if you have any?
These are some of my favorites:
An Ocean Without Shore, Ibn ‘Arabi
Fragment from Al-Buhturi’s Wolf
From the Luzumiyat of al-Ma’arri
From the Diwan of al-Ma’arri
Reality, Rabia al-Basri
Love, Rabia al-Basri
The Enchanter of Dust: Psalm, Adonis
The Wound, Adonis
I Pray Behind My Shadow, Bahija Massri Adelbi
The Spirit Bows to the Will of Love, Munir Mezyed
The Manner of Sand, Mahmood al-Braikan
Exculpation, Khalil Mutran
Revolt Against the Sun, Nazik al-Mala’ika
Myths, Nazik al-Mala’ika
Who am I?, Nazik al-Mala’ika
A Stranger at the Gulf, Badr Shakir al-Sayyab
An Alphabetical Formation, Faraj Bayraqdar
A couple of fragments from Sanieh Salh
Sorrows of the Black City, Muhammad al-Fayturi
Shadows, Wadih Sa’adah
The Strange Grief, al-Shabbi
A Storm in the Dark, al-Shabbi
A Body, Al-Saddiq al-Raddi
Annihilation, Muhammad Afifi Matar
Fragments from ‘Quartet of Joy’, Muhammad Affifi Matar
Mural, Mahmoud Darwish
We Will Choose Sophocles, Mahmoud Darwish
Clouds, Ounsi el-Hajj
Smoke Bloom, Nadia Anjuman
Boat to Lesbos, Nourri al-Jarrah
Your body is my map, Nizar Qabbani
i would be the best dead wife ever i love to laugh while laying in bed
I have chanted Maa Durga’s name with the same love and reverence as I have made Dua to Allah and bowed before Waheguru. I worship the divine, not the name
she/her ▪︎ my mind; little organization
177 posts