rant for a post i saw on pintrest sayin somethin about how it was cherrys fault johnny diedđź’Ą
it's extremely disorganized and made no sense, plus it was late for međź’”
so ive learned today that apparently it is not common sense that you can't falsely accuse someone of committing an extremely serious crime against you just because you dont like them
what the fuck
it fuels me that s.e. hinton put chocolate milk in more than one of her books, I love chocolate milk
im gods weakest faggot
i occasionally wonder if more girls would like me if I was a cis guy (still looking the same). I pass pretty well but since most girls I know see me as a girl, that doesn't really matter. The only people that have had crushes on me (what im aware of) were lesbians. And so I wonder, if girls saw me as a guy, would more like me? I'm not interested in a relationship though, just a thought.
My name is Nadin. I never imagined I would write something like this. I’ve always been someone who kept her worries quiet, someone who believed that even the hardest days could be endured with patience and faith. But right now, I am reaching out — not because I want to, but because I need to.
I am a wife, a mother, and one of many women in Gaza trying to survive days that feel like they have no end. There was a short time — a brief ceasefire — where we thought things might start to heal. Where the sound of war faded for just long enough to let us breathe. But that moment is gone now, and the fear has returned louder than before.
My days are filled with uncertainty, and my nights with prayer. We have lost so much. Our home was damaged, our sense of safety taken from us. But through all of this, I try to keep going. I try to hold on to what little peace I can create with my hands, my words, and my love.
I am not asking for much. Just a little help to keep our lives from falling further apart. To fix the small things — a cracked wall, a leaking roof, the pieces of daily life that help us hold on to dignity.
This campaign isn’t just about survival. It’s about holding on to what makes us human in a place that keeps trying to take that away. It’s about showing my daughter — even though I won’t mention her name here — that the world didn’t forget us.
If you’ve ever felt powerless in the face of suffering, please know that even the smallest gesture can carry great meaning. A kind word. A shared post. A quiet donation. These things remind us that we’re not alone.
I am still here. Still holding on. Still believing that people out there — people like you — still care.
Please, if you feel moved, consider supporting or sharing this campaign.
Hot. Boys.
🎥: broadwaycom
Yk what I love about The Outsiders? It’s the fact that everyone is so touchy with each other.
Pony sleeping on Johnny’s legs, Dally repeatedly ruffling Johnny’s hair, Soda giving Darry a massage, Pony sleeping next to Soda
I LOVE LOVE PHYSICAL AFFECTION
đź’¬ Just a Small Update, and a Big Thank You
Dear friends, kind hearts, and everyone who has stood with us,
When I first opened my heart to the world and shared our story, I never imagined the amount of love and solidarity we would receive. Thanks to your incredible support, we’ve now reached $12,837—a milestone that brings real light to some very dark days.
From the deepest corners of my heart, thank you.
As many of you know, I’ve lost 25 of my loved ones during this devastating war. That grief lives with me every single day. It’s in the silence that once held laughter, in the empty spaces where we once gathered as a family.
But through your help, I’ve also felt something else: hope. And that hope is priceless.
“21/Oct/2023 Before It Reached Us: The Day Our Neighbor’s House Was Destroyed” A quiet moment of fear, filmed just before everything changed.
“22/Oct/2023 The Morning After: Our Family Home in Ruins” This is what was left behind after the bombing of our home.
Despite everything, we’re still here. Still surviving. Still hoping.
But things have only gotten harder.
The war has returned, more brutal than before—and for over a month now, Gaza has been completely sealed off. No food is coming in. No medical supplies. No aid. No trade. No one is allowed to leave, and no one is allowed to enter.
We’re trapped.
🏚 We live with the fear of tomorrow, every single day. Airstrikes, drones, and the uncertainty of what might happen next. 👨‍👩‍👧 Our family is forever changed—we haven’t just lost people; we’ve lost pieces of ourselves. 📉 Basic needs go unmet—even clean water feels like a luxury now. Medicines, if they exist at all, are unreachable.
And yet…
Your support reminds us that we’re not forgotten. It reminds us that someone, somewhere, is still listening. That someone still cares. That we’re not completely alone in this.
Every message. Every share. Every dollar. It tells us: You’re walking this road with us. And that gives us the strength to keep going.
If you’ve already donated—thank you beyond words. If you can share our story again, it could reach someone who can help.
Even $5 means warmth, comfort, and a chance to breathe a little easier.
This isn’t just about reaching a fundraising goal. It’s about surviving war with dignity. It’s about believing in tomorrow. It’s about making sure my daughter grows up knowing that the world did not look away.
Thank you for your kindness, patience, and belief in our humanity. You’ve helped me find my voice—and I will use it to keep hope alive.
There’s something I need to say—something that’s been on my heart for some time.
When I first began sharing our story, I didn’t know what the right way was. I was scared, grieving, and trying to protect my family in any way I could. I reached out to many people, hoping someone, anyone, would see us. In that process, I now realize I may have overstepped, and I might have made some feel overwhelmed.
If that happened, I am truly sorry.
Please believe me when I say it was never out of disregard or pushiness. It came from a place of fear—fear of being forgotten, fear of not being able to keep my family safe, fear of watching everything I love slip away in silence.
I’m learning as I go. I’ve slowed down. I’m more mindful now, trying to share our journey in a way that feels respectful of the space and hearts of those listening.
If my words ever came at the wrong time, or in the wrong way, I hope you can understand where they came from—and I hope you can forgive me.
Thank you for seeing past my mistakes. Thank you for still being here. It means more than I can ever explain.
With love and endless gratitude, Mosab and family ♥️
UPDATE: I finished it right after a math test I didnt get and I feel like there is a lil guy with a meat grinder tearing away at my organs from the inside
i felt that the whole read though
rusty james ily <3
s.e. hinton my mental health can't take more of this
im about 2/3 of the way through rumble fish and I smell an unhappy ending
i dont like this
im scared
and emotionally attached to rusty james
help
#1 sylvia (outsiders) defender and fanI accept art and yap reqs but I might not get to them all. If you have one please use asks instead of commenting or messaging me :p
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