chistesdiarios

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Anti-cop poster spotted in Wollongong, NSW

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HOLY FUCK TUMBLR REDACTED EVERY IMAGE ON THAT INDIGENOUS MAP OF NORTH AMERICA POST

violating tumblr's community guidelines my fucking ass

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A report just came out from a Palestinian hostage saying he was strapped with bombs and sent into a Hamas tunnel, with Israel prepared to blow the tunnel up with his body if fighters were found inside and yet people are still making the “Hamas uses human shields” arguments that have been confirmed to be a myth with no supporting evidence

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hurry up you say, laughing -not very differently from how youve done before- from the booth your label has set up for you

what is it exactly youre waiting to happen faster? do you think my voice is stronger than yours? if so, why bother telling me anything, if my chords dont waver on your command.

youve done youre part, talking to my ear through the pod i left hanging next to my lobe, and so you get on your car and start strolling the scars thatve covered up all of the land youve never seen as yours but onlyve left to levitate from stage to stage that world below, so below, from that land that isnt yours

what else could you be asked for? you know exactly how loud your voice is, and you gotta protect it, lest its potency be diminished and the bottles stop pouring. hurry up, you say, and i wonder if youve ever heard anything ive said -and i know you havent, since ive never really spoken much, yet you always seem to hear what i fear- so here i wanna be as clear as i can be: genocide has never stopped and youvent said a word for it to stop.

you get to either that wide (but not the widest, youre quick to note) mansion or that tall (yet not the tallest, you immidiatley view) apartment and wonder

is that kid really serious? am I supposed to lose all this hard work now? should i sell my diamonds now? give away the art? peel off my butt and put it out? that kid wants us all walked over, is how i imagine your defense, he wants us to give it all away so we can be made mud again!

im not asking for any of that, and maybe the distance between you and the military complex that that land you look over as not yours is rich off of has made you forget the difference, but i ask for one word: ceasefire. i want to be as clear as i can

does he really think if i say that, then automatically the genocide will stop? yes, i do. now, if i wanted to make that ceasefire last, unlike how the bombing was reinstigated in less than a week last time id ask for another word: perpetual ceasefire.

you know that the people who know that land the live on as not theirs is greatly, greatly superior to those who know themselves as owners of it. you know your grandparents grew up with that majority, so ill ask you

do you want to own it?

and here i want to make something clear once again, i now speak to those who have made that ownership their goal and achieved it, be it from garages or street corners or any other of the thousand broken ladders laid upon that superior majority.

you know we have no say in what happens on gaza! you could have. you start asking for this and then youll ask for our heads! i wont, ill work. i belive thats what has made you soft on me. i neednt luxury to stop for us to accept that life is more important. anyone's.

these words can easily be dissmissed for being poorly chosen and awfully layed down. they can be dissmissed as the paranoid ramblings of a crazy person. they can be dissmissed as too optimistic. we're both too far from that specific genocide to feel the weight of the images we recive from it as we should. the destroyed building and the people bleeding, sick, dead. but we both have always lived surrounded by massacres, targeted murders, torture. no land has gone too long without them.

so you can call for Israel to stop the war its waging, either directly to that state or to the states that are supporting it, or you can not. id love voting on what each of you will choose.

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cuando escribo cierro los ojos

y tropiezo con la misma mezcla de chance chanza y el encuentro feliz del descuido con la contingencia en barro y cemento del desarrollo urbano que al caminar

misma inmediata insensatez

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they did ai on a obelisco

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ah yes

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necesito una sabana q no me quite la mitad de la bareta cuando se me riega

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la mascara seguia indescirnible a cuando habia sido colocada, sin rituales ni bienvenidas, cierres, despojos o espalda. no había corrido, raramente lo hacía, pero lo sorprendente era que tras tantas sudorosas horas siguiera sin restregase por todo el párpado inferior de su payasa. Todo lo demás se había corrido, caído o deformado. amores, rencor, cariño, confianza, asco, odios, rayones y ensalzes, ningunx seguía en su lugar y menos de misma forma.

Todo transformado excepto sus largas pestañas que batía en ocasion pero con intención decidida. Habia corrido la sal, el rojo había brotado y entre acido estomacal la levadura entintada soltado sus esporas. Quedaba entonces el horror del discurso y la entreapertura cuantica de la puerta que separaba al payasa de su pasado.

todos los liquidos entre su piel bullían al pensar en expresar perspectivas y burbujeaban ante la posibilidad del dialogo reencontrado.truenos reorientaban los mojados cartilagos que sostenían su cuerpo al imaginar .su

absurdo

se ahogaba.

preparo pañitos y solvente

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fue un sueño muy bello aquel en el que me dabas la bienvenida al otro lado. ver el mundo cómo fantasmas desde lo alto, en la parte más concurrida del parque nacional, sin nadie a nuestro alrededor. ahora añadiría, sin nadie que pudiéramos percibir.

tomar parte en tu muerte me preparó, aunque nunca lo suficiente, para verte participando de la mía. sé que el sentimiento es nulo e instrumental, y en espectral indiferencia recuerdo calurosamente tu guianza.

nunca me enseñaste a lanzar hechizos pero no puedo evitar esmirkear cuando recuerdo tus tartamudeados intentos de introducción a aquel arte.

ya vividos ojo a ojo los sobresaltos carmesí de la irrupción paranormal en un corazón viviente no logro adivinar que, si algún, escenario podría volver a involucrar nuestro ectoplasma, pero recibirelo sea cual sea con cariño llegase a suceder.

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so you gotta brush your teeth over and over and over again until either they fall off or you DIE???? the game is rigged

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la providencia tiene una cruel fijación en los recuerdos recurrentes