#*survive

[asteroidtroglodyte]

5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

10 years ago, I was watching my Potential and Opportunities dissolve and evaporate in an ocean of cheap gin and expensive whiskey.

But 5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

One of the exercises they had us perform was to imagine ourselves happy, 5 years in the future.

Many of us in that room had forgotten how to imagine nice things happening to them. A few snorted (well, I snorted), finding the notion that we’d even still be around in 5 years grimly humorous.

For about half of us, it was the last stop on the way down.

But I indulged the therapist. I was there, after all, because I did not want to die. So, I imagined myself, 5 years hence.

Happy.

It came to me all at once; an artistic remix on Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, reframed with myself placing food at the table.

Sunday Dinner At My Place, I answered, when it came my turn to share my fantasy. I was asked what food I imagined eating.

It’s not the meal itself, I said, it’s the implications framed around it. Sunday Dinner At My Place means that I have a Place. It means that I have Family that will actually speak to me and friends who actually want to see me. It means money enough not just to feed myself but others too. It means having the time to spare to take the time preparing the meal.

A lot of nodding heads all around me. A struck chord. Many people with no Place, in that place. Nowhere that would lament their leaving.

5 years hence, as I lay down to sleep in my Home, with my Wife and my Son, surrounded by my Art and my Flowers, I reflect.

It was a long road. It was hard. We lost people. So many people. There were long days and long nights and hospital stays. Angry arguments with ghosts. I changed, in ways I never hoped for, or expected. Good ways, finally, for once. Slowly, against the backdrop of a world in chaos, I found my mind.

Sometimes, My Wife wondered aloud, what she did to deserve me. After some stumbling with my feelings, I eventually settled on an answer.

I’m a Rescue.

She gave me a Home.

And, so, I gave her a Family.

It seemed fair

This Sunday, my folks, which whom I have not had a shouting match in years, will come over for dinner. We will cook and eat together. My Friend became My Wife, and she took a piece of me and with it she made Our Son. There will be many hugs, and no violence. Good Things Happened.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t know what the future holds.

don’t give up yet, ok?

It could get good, even.

[theoddsideofme]

[crystaldragon1997]

[radar-chaos]

Please try and remember that we still have three to five days at LEAST before the votes are solidified.

It happened in 2020, I’ll bet it’s happening here. Trump gets in first, but Harris will surely take the ranks as time goes on. He’s already trying to call fraud, he knows things are changing.

If nothing else, then survive. Survive out of hatred, vitriol, and spite if you have to. We did it once, and we only have to do it once more. I believe in you. All of you.

Have hope just a little longer. The red mirage shouldn’t last.

[chipsy]

I will survive, somehow I always do.

[classycookiexo]

[shoroa91]

I no longer know if my children, my family, or I will survive this unending war—or if we’ll become just another fading memory, like the countless loved ones we’ve already lost. Every day brings new waves of destruction, relentless airstrikes from warplanes, and bombardments from the sea. Hunger gnaws at us, spreading like a shadow, and even a single loaf of bread feels like an impossible dream. I find myself questioning whether we’ll ever see peace, whether we’ll ever see tomorrow. And yet, this morning, as I stood outside my tent in the displacement camp, a fragile rainbow 🌈 appeared in the sky a fleeting promise of hope amidst the chaos. Perhaps, just perhaps, it’s a sign that we still have a chance to endure.

To know about my story follow the link

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

La prima notte di quiete (Valerio Zurlini, 1972)

[fathialhaj]

My two little smart children said today, upon realizing that we have passed 400 days of this War:

Yamen said: "We did nothing, Daddy, to deserve all this suffering for such a long time. We are so tired." Boody said: "We need a rest, Mom, away from this big prison. Why can't we get out of this?"

My children said:

We miss our house.

We miss our rooms.

We miss our school.

We miss our friends.

We miss our favorite food.

We miss our clothes.

We miss our toys.

We miss our normal life.

They asked: "How are we going to feed our cat, Daddy, during this famine?

It’s a nightmare without an end."

So, please, for them, for my wife, and for my elderly parents give us a chance to survive. Give us hope for a better life and let us evacuate Gaza if any border opens, so we can rebuild our lives in the face of all this Lost, every donation bring us closer to safety, no matter how small. Please donate and share to save our lives,

Thanks Dears for hearing us 🇵🇸🤍👨‍👩‍👧‍👧🫶

✅️ My campaign is vetted by: @bilal-salah0 @gazavetters #169

Donation link :

@belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain  

@aleciosun @fluoresensitivearchived @khizuo

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@tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @visenyasdragon

@belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @brutaliakent

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@4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2

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@baby-girl-aaron-dessner

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@dlxxv-vetted-donations @illuminated-runas

@imjustheretotrytohelp @soon-palestine

@communistcinema @irhabiya @ibtisamsa

[ochiody]

polites death scene animatic except i gave up

[dangerclaw]

This dude (Polites) really went through a ten year war and:

1. decided that life isn’t a battlefield

2. deliberately chose peace, then

3. died during a round of deadly whack-a-mole

The gods didn’t like his hope for a world of peace and harmony ig

[komodoghost002]

[undead-knick-knack]

😐

[fawnaura]

To survive is sometimes a leap into madness. The fingers of saints are still hot from miracles, but can they save themselves?

Joy Harjo, from “Bird” in Weaving Sundown in a Scarlet Light

[nobeerreviews]

Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more.

-- Markus Zusak

(Bistrița, Romania)