#i might not have a lot to contribute and i might not know what it is you are talking about

[beesandwasps]

When I got to be a senior at St. Leon’s College, I was given my very own studio. It was a tiny room in a creaky old wooden shedlike building. Here I was to work on my senior project, a series of woodblock prints. I found, left behind by previous inhabitants, a dangerous electric percolator and a squawky old radio. I loved having a studio of my own, and spent most of my time there. I’d arrive at ten or eleven at night and stay till dawn, chiseling away at my woodblocks, swilling black coffee, and listening to the all-night hillbilly station. At sunrise I’d stroll to my room, where I would sleep until lunchtime. I had signed up only for classes that met in the afternoon, and I had time in the evening to socialize and study before retiring to my little workshop. The rest of the college would be sleeping when I was at work, and I had no distractions. I was getting a lot accomplished. It was an ideal routing, and I was happy. It was during this period that the President of the United States was assassinated. Today, documentaries and news retrospectives emphasize the shock and grief felt by the nation — but I also remember the fear and confusion that closely followed the event. At first it was unclear whether or not the assassination was part of a coup or insurrection. News reports were vague and fragmentary. There was speculation as to whether our country’s enemies might not take advantage of the confusion of the moment and attack us. I hovered near the radio and learned of the capture of Oswald and later of his murder before the news cameras. Lyndon Johnson had been sworn in as President. Harry S. Truman flew to Washington, and from the airport, broadcast a statement assuring the country that the orderly succession of government was intact. It was two or three days before the feeling of panic and uncertainty died down. And the whole time, I was listening — while carving away at woodblocks, because there was nothing else to do. I was realizing that events can become ugly with a terrifying suddenness — and that I, personally, had nothing to contribute in times like these. There were advisors in Southeast Asia. There was a wall in Berlin. We had nearly had a nuclear war over missiles in Cuba. People were being fire-hosed and police-dogged in the South. Now someone had knocked off the First Citizen of the Republican — and I was learning to do what? I was learning to make things for rich people to decorate their apartments with. I felt useless and stupid. As the assassination hysteria subsided, I continued to come to the studio, but it seemed to me an empty exercise. Worse, a mockery. In times like these, the last thing needed was a little more art. Then, one 2:00 A.M., a fellow student dropped in to see me. Jerry Schwartz was his name. I knew him by sight, but had never spoken with him. He had something to tell me. It seemed Schwartz had gone through a period of living the life of a swine. He had been in the habit of coming home drunk at approximately the same time every morning. And every morning, he’d see the light in my studio, and through the window, me, doing… he didn’t know what, but there I was doing it. He felt that here was at least one person doing something probably constructive — anyway, functioning. It somehow meant to him that there was hope for him too. In the parlance of Alcoholics Anonymous, the image of the light in my studio window had become his higher power, had kept him from despairing, motivated him to try to straighten out — and, as he told it, may have prevented his taking his own life. I thought he was probably exaggerating, but I couldn’t take the chance. Now I had to show up every night, and work on my woodcuts in order not to let down this formerly miserable Schwartz. I didn’t see Schwartz again, but I finished out the year and got my degree. And gradually I became convinced that the best way I could address the big evils of the big world would be to keep chipping away and something comparatively small.

— Daniel M. Pinkwater (from Chicago Days, Hoboken Nights)

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | 10.5

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 2k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, infidelity, flirting, kissing/making out, there is trouble everywhere quite frankly…. gonna dip once i post bcos i know this is bad but there’s def another future 0.5 chapter that might be worse

⇢ POSTDOC | YR 2.5

"Babe." Iseul whines a bit, making San mimic her pout before tapping her nose.

"Love. How about I take you out this weekend to make up for it? We can go somewhere, just us two."

"Okay, but it'd be better if you could do that and come hang out tonight, too." 

"I'll try."

"San." 

"I'll try." He chuckles. "I should really finish up behavior tonight and that review for the paper we're working on. I'm already behind."

"Who said? You still have time."

"I have to get this done by next week." He gives her a sympathetic smile before placing a kiss on her forehead. 

"Next week."

"I'll try and get it done so I can hang out with you two, k?" He cups her cheeks. She can't help but continue to pout and cross her arms, even when he kisses her on the tip of her nose and on the lips. Part of her continues to have a soft spot for her man, the love of her life. 

Part of her wants to continue being supportive because she loves seeing San excel in his craft, she loves being by his side throughout all his achievements and vice versa. She feels like together, they can conquer the world together— be unstoppable, reach the top.

The other half, maybe more than half at this point, is sad. Empty. She longs for the man she fell in love with, she longs for his company. His time. His effort. 

His kisses, his cuddles. Everything.

Iseul never thought the lines would blur.

"Okay?" San repeats, causing Iseul to return her full attention on him. She gives him a small smile and nod, San's thumbs caressing her cheeks. "Better." He subtly bites his lip before caressing her chin. "C'mere." He leans forward to peck her lips again, and again.

And again.

Before they're both standing near her car, kissing under the late afternoon sun. Iseul tugs on San's shirt, deepening the kiss as she pulls him closer. He softly groans against her lips, Iseul's hand slowly traveling down to his belt. 

"Baby." He pulls back and chuckles. 

"We can be quick." She chases after his lips and presses small, repeated kisses against them before he's gently prying her off and shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, baby. I gotta go." She whines again before he's kissing her one last time on the lips and forehead. "You can have me all you want later tonight. And tomorrow. And the weekend."

"Ugh. I hope you know how much I'm sacrificing so you can hurry and finish." He laughs.

"I love you."

"Love you, too." She sighs, watching as San waves before doing a light jog back to the building. She slips into her car and connects a call to the bluetooth just as she pulls out of the parking spot.

"Yo!" Yunho answers the call almost immediately.

"Hey. What can I bring to your place for tonight?"

"Hm. Soju? I think I'm almost out." Yunho hums. "Chips and any other snacks."

"Okay, so everything? What do you even have at home?"

"Me, myself and I." Iseul laughs. 

"Uh. So much for inviting us over when you don't even have anything ready."

"I'll whip something up, don't worry! Why the doubting?"

"Alright, boss. Counting on you then."

"You know what else I need?"

"What, Yunho?" He chuckles.

"You." It’s meant to be a lighthearted joke; nothing more, nothing less. But, it does something to Iseul and Yunho knows it well enough by this point.

"You're so sappy. Quit it." She blushes to herself, biting her bottom lip even though she playfully scolds him.

"Nah. It's kinda fun seeing you all flustered."

"Hate you."

"Sad. I don't." She shakes her head and smiles. "Sliding through soon?"

"Yeah, I'm just gonna freshen up and change at the house first after grabbing groceries."

"San is coming?"

"He said he'll try and wrap up quick so he can join."

"Ah, okay." Yunho sighs a bit. It's been awhile since he's been able to hang out with his bestfriend, but he understands how important his work is right now. He tries to be, at least. He knows how it all goes. 

He just wishes San would give himself more time to relax. Enjoy life a little bit, just like he used to.

"I'll see you in a bit then."

"Mhm. I'll text you when I'm on the way."

"How exciting."

"Shut up." She ends the call. Suddenly, those dark, sad feelings she felt earlier are gone. Suddenly, she's happy. She feels a bit giddy. Excited.

Iseul isn't really sure when the line started to blur. 

But somehow, they're here and Yunho isn't sure how they'll go back and undo whatever they've created between each other. He knows this shouldn’t even be a thing. He should feel like some sort of last resort, a rebound— like he's the cushion that keeps Iseul company solely because San isn't around. Yunho knows there shouldn't be much to it.

So, why is there more to it?

It must have been all the kick-its with friends, all the lunches and casual dinners. It must have been the exchanged texts with stupid [but silly] memes or tweets the other would appreciate. It must have been the calls just to check in with each other. It must have been the subtle, lingering looks. 

Accidentally brushing hands.

Teasing and poking fun at each other.

Flirty undertones.

Saying shit to make the other smile or laugh.

San would have just assumed they were being normal around each other. They had always been close anyway, but he says that because he doesn't catch the small acts in between. 

The very small, but clear and intentional acts.

For a minute, Iseul thought it was a phase because Yunho was there like he had always been. But then, the feelings and the thoughts stayed for longer than a phase; piled up over weeks and weeks.

Until she realized what it meant.

So, she tried to distract herself and force herself to understand that it was truly just a phase. When San was around, she'd affectionately hug him. Kiss him. Cuddle him. Pull him to bed and make him cum over and over again to feel satisfied, to feel like she was still wanted by her man.

His moans and the loud calls of her name the only thing granting that satisfaction. Even though, could she say the affection behind it was genuine?

Clear, intentional?

Who's to say?

Especially when she's happily skipping down the aisles in the grocery store, grabbing the soju that both she and Yunho like; the one that San doesn't really like as much but he'll deal and make do. Especially when she's throwing on a form-fitting zip-up and leggings, trying to come off as comfy, but alluring. Especially when she sprays her perfume and dabs on a bit of lip gloss for a lazy kick-it that’s staying behind doors and enclosed walls.

Especially when she walks through the door to greet Yunho with a big hug— one that has him swinging her around before they plop onto the living room floor and get started on the drunk, scary indie movie and short film marathon the three agreed to do as a way of de-stressing.

Especially when Iseul gets the dreaded but expected text from San, and she can't help but welcome back the same feelings of emptiness and disappointment from earlier.

san: running behind. i don't think i'll make it, love. i'm sorry. tell yunho i’m sorry, too.

san: i'll be home tonight - i'll make it up to you. this weekend, too. 😘 i'm all yours.

"He's not coming." Iseul says, taking another huge swig from their third soju bottle of the night, making Yunho nod silently.

"I'm sorry—"

"It's fine, don't be such a debbie downer." She laughs, playfully punching him on the bicep. Yunho catches her hand in his when she attempts to pinch him the second time around, making her pout in return. "Ouch!"

"Says you who was just about to punch me on the bicep, meanie." She giggles when he lets go of her hand. "I'll let it go. At least you're laughing and smiling."

"Yeah." She looks up at him. "You surely do make me laugh and smile."

"Good or bad way?"

"Good. How could that be a bad thing?"

"I don't know, you could just think I'm stupid." She snorts.

"Never."

"Well, good." Yunho smiles. "I like it when you laugh and smile."

"I like it when you make me laugh and smile, Yunho."

"Yeah?" He drunkly rests his cheek on the palm of his hand, elbow on the surface of the table. "What else do you like, Iseul?"

"A lot of things."

"Mhm." He hums in a sing-song tone before leaning closer to tease her a bit. "What are a lot of things? Name a few."

"Yogurt soju, melon bread, being in bed after a long day and letting the sheets engulf me. Reading in a hot bath with candles lit up. To name a few." She leans forward to match him. "I don't think I can say anything else."

"Why not?"

"Because other things could be bad for me."

"In what way specifically?"

"Just cause." Her voice is barely above a whisper, lips only inches away from Yunho's.

"Just cause? How bad could it be?" She subtly shrugs before her eyes are dipping down to his lips, back up to his eyes. 

"Dunno. You tell me." She distractedly says. 

"What if.. maybe.. it isn't a necessarily a bad thing at all?" There's a thick silence in the air, but no one wants to address the tension, the elephant in the room. So, after a few minutes of said silence, Iseul leans forward and just kisses him— somehow thinking it could address the tension or whatever elephant is hiding in the room.

And at first, it shocks Yunho.

He freezes because he knows this shouldn't have happened. It fucking shouldn't have happened and he should’ve put a stop to it ASAP. Because Iseul was San's and vice versa, they made vows and devoted their lives to each other in front of him, and they were good together.

Yunho isn't really sure when the line started to blur. 

But then, he finds himself chasing after her lips to kiss her again, and again— until things can't be stopped and San's texts are going unanswered while Iseul's phone sits on the coffee table and vibrates away.

Her and Yunho are no longer sitting around watching the short film that's on. It eventually plays a random video next because no one is paying attention to what’s happening in the background. Empty soju bottles are spread across the surface of the table, along with open bags of chips and empty bowls. TV serving its purpose as background noise, almost fighting with the loud kisses and subtle moans leaving their lips while Iseul continues to make a place for herself on Yunho’s lap.

Meanwhile, San tucks his phone into his pocket, shrugging off the entire thing after he had sent her a few more follow up texts with all his ideas on how to make up for tonight. And tomorrow. And the weekend. He felt bad, but he was genuinely excited to do things with Iseul. To take her out on dates, travel near and far with her just to be alone. Rekindle the flame. Bring back that love, passion, that had been slowly dying because of his own fault. 

It wasn't entirely uncommon for Iseul to let texts go unanswered, but he was only worried because he knew that initial 'sorry can't make it' text upset her. She was probably trying to distract herself and lean on Yunho. Which, San can't help but think that Yunho does a way better job of being there for her than he actually does as her husband. It kinda aches him to think about it, and he's not sure how to navigate his own feelings when he keeps replaying that bar scene in his head.

For San, there’s no use in figuring this out because he knows they're good friends. They get along well, and he should be glad that they do. There isn’t anything to worry about despite his mixed feelings and confusing thoughts.

But for Iseul and Yunho, there’s no use in figuring out when this all happened, why this all happened— because everything has become perfectly clear and defined. 

The small acts gone unnoticed no longer small and unable to be hidden.

Clear, intentional.

Now, the lines are no longer blurred.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme

[catboybiologist]

Last year, I was given a total of about $400 via Kofi when I needed it. I've since gotten a lot more on my feet financially, so I'll be rounding up and donating $500 to a worthy cause shortly.

I was mulling over a couple options, but the fires in LA are affecting people I know personally, and I think that might be the best use of the money right now. I'll look into the aide options tomorrow, see how their resource flow is going, and make my decision.

I am aware that these funds will likely be flooded with donations coming up, especially considering that a lot of wealthy people are affected and they SHOULD be contributing. My primary other options are Palestinian aide charities and conservation work. If you have any other suggestions of how to make this money the most impactful, please let me know. I'll likely be making my decision tomorrow.

If you would prefer a direct payback or Kofi refund, lmk and I'll see what I can do.

I posted about this last year, but the fires make this all the more relevant right now, and I'd like to make the decision soon.

[milfbrainrot]

i feel like i type so much more than is reasonable when i do talk to people but i also don't get to socialize a ton so i just have soooo many words in me and if i'm like, tired or short on time, it is so much harder to restrain to the already-pushing-it point i can sometimes manage ;-;

[jraker4]

I’m not the one seeking to redefine terms-that’s what you admitted already that Ireland has asked to do. What’s the convention with you? Oh, yes: ‘sorry, boo!’

As for ethnic cleansing, well in fact I agree that there is a strong case to be made that Israel is engaging in ethnic cleansing in certain places. Which is pretty goddamned bad! But that’s not genocide against the entire Palestinian people. Things can be bad without being the worst thing possible.

‘Silences any criticism’? You’re right! How could I have missed this! No one dares criticize Israel. International organizations shiver and fall silent when Israel flexes its global Jewish might! Oh, wait…

‘Imaginary person?’ Heh. What started largely as a ‘this will annoy them’ is growing steadily more likely in my mind. ‘Imaginary person’? You chimed in on their post which is how this conversation happening now started!

I know you don’t care who’s committing genocide, that’s my point. Unless you think you can say it’s Jews.

As for the litany of evils that you correctly cite, my answer is: largely no. I contribute modestly to Doctors Without Borders monthly, I support and vote for politicians who wish to protect or expand foreign aid, and I’ve given money to a few Syrian refugee charities over the years. It’s not much: my means are pretty limited, after all. But here’s the thing, ‘boo’: *I’m not pretending to be a crusader motivated by moral outrage over such things, a moral outrage that ‘curiously’ seems to express itself almost exclusively against Israel.* What are *you* doing for *any* of these causes? It’s a fair question, because unlike me you *are* asserting moral authority. Badgering random Jews online doesn’t count as helping.

You, though? You appropriate and hijack grief and anger at human suffering and seek to apply it to a scapegoat.

As for Israeli women, say…I wonder what one of the important words in that paragraph was about sexual assault in West Asia. Maybe it was…’documented’? Why, I’ll bet it was! You’re such a craven fucking liar, this is *exactly* what I’m talking about. See, if you had integrity you could have said ‘Israel has a problem with sexual violence against women’. Truth is, I think that’s basically true of every nation on Earth,

Instead, you cite a report that speaks of Israel being the highest in West Asia. Tell me, chickenshit, is there a lot of reporting of sexual assault among the nations of West Asia? But it’s not enough to say ‘Israel has problems’, or even ‘Israel is doing something awful’. It has to be *the worst*, because you’re an antisemite. Make sure to remember to say ‘you’re just calling me an antisemite!’ and disregard everything else, ‘boo’:)

The right hates Jews because the right are bigots. The left hates Jews because Jews are bigots!!!

Seriously Jews, it’s you. It’s not us it’s you!! Y’all treat all us “goyim” like trash and then act surprised when we don’t want to be around you. Then you commit a genocide against the Palestinians and act like the victims when people protest it!!

JEWS!!! IT IS TIME FOR YOU TO UNPACK YOUR BIGOTRIES!!!

[schrodingers-romy]

Tbh disappearing off the face of the earth for weeks is really fun actually would do again

[graham--folger]

okay the thing about alien 3 is it's so grimdark in comparison to the other two. there's no real sense of hope. ripley's convinced she has to die. all the prisoners have no way out and their best possible ending is in taking the alien with them. just thinking back to alien 1979 and how even though nearly everyone was dying there was still a chance for ripley (and jonesy) to escape and get a "happy ending". in aliens there was a chance of ripley surviving alongside hicks and newt. but alien 3 erased that possibility and took all the hope with it. idk it just feels so resoundingly hopeless even though ripley "wins" by killing herself and the alien with her. but even then we know that wasn't successful either because of alien resurrection. it's just kind of funny how they like to totally throw away the previous movie plot for the sake of a reboot but in doing so thematically butcher the franchise

[lilalilan]

Putting this in it's own post to not detract but like. There is no such thing as sugar addiction.

If you aren't eating carbs/sugars, your body craves those things because it needs them. Your body depends on sugar for energy, and if you aren't consuming enough you're going to crave it so that you eat and correct the deficiency, just like with anything else your body needs.

If you are eating carbs/sugars regularly, especially if it feels like you can never get enough of them and it feels like you're addicted, please get checked out for diabetes mellitus.

What diabetes mellitus boils down to is the body being unable to process sugar, either because it doesn't make insulin (type 1) or because it can't use the insulin it makes (type 2). Insulin is a hormone the body needs in order to use the sugar in your blood. This leads to high blood sugar levels, weight gain, being thirsty often/drinking a lot of water, and frequent urination, because the body can't get the sugar out of the bloodstream so either stores it as fat or gets rid of it in urine (and has you drink a lot of water to make that happen).

Diabetics don't crave sugar because they're addicts who can't get control of themselves, they crave sugar because their body desperately needs it but is struggling to use what they're giving it, because it's having issues with insulin.

Going in for a diabetes diagnosis can be scary and stressful, usually due to the stigma and fatphobia/fatshaming diabetes patients often have to deal with. A lot of people are uneducated about diabetes and see it as a punishment for eating unhealthily, and if you have or have had this view in the past it can be really upsetting and scary to think that you might be diabetic. Despite what the stigma may have led you to believe, diabetes is often in large part genetic, and people who are predisposed to it can have it triggered by anything from stress to covid to seemingly nothing at all. But even if you did cause your diabetes or make it worse by eating a lot of sugar/carbs, you deserve compassion and you deserve care, you deserve accurate information about how your body does/doesn't work, and you deserve treatment free from judgement and blame.

Diabetes is manageable, it is something you can live with. Diet and exercise can help, but in the long term even folks who've made lifestyle changes usually need medication, because lifestyle changes don't change the fact that your body is struggling to make/use insulin.

For something relatively common, diabetes isn't well understood by most people, and the actual symptoms of it are often overlooked because of that. Hunger even after eating, especially after eating carbs/sugar, and constantly craving carbs/sugars, was what led my doctor to assess me for diabetes, so if that's something you struggle with please consider looking into diabetes.

[steelycunt]

good morning all. today i find myself filled with a thousand tiny stresses like pebbles clattering around in my shoes. and yet! i unlace my shoes and take them off and find them empty. another cruel deception and by my own mind no doubt

[amaraudermind]

I feel like I don't know how to hold a conversation anymore

It's like...my anxiety got really bad and super unmanaged for over two years, and I withdrew from everyone, couldn't work, didn't talk to people, barely left the house(not just for anxiety reasons, but it certainly didn't help matters)...the most social interaction I had was talking in the tags of Tumblr posts.

And now I'm...trying, at least, to talk to people again, and be more of a functioning human being. But it's like I've no clue how to talk. I know I used to converse with people at least semi-regularly. I used to do this stuff, if not easily, at least simply.

And now, it's like. I've spent so much time not talking about anything to anyone that I don't remember what stuff people usually share with each other. What's normal to talk about.

[groovylittleclown]

I love it with people ramble!!! It makes me so happy and I get to read it or listen while they talk about the thing that's on their minds and it's so good!! I love it!!

Please ramble!! Tell me about your characters or your theories or your projects!! I might not know anything about it but I will happily listen!! This is my most favorite of favorite past times!!

Don't be afraid to post your thoughts or your rambles!! "But no one's really interested in that" I AM!!! And I know tons of people are!! I am clawing at the walls of my enclosure PLEASE ramble it makes me so happy!! And you're all so cool!!

[surpriserose]

Good morning everypony

[tanadrin]

So one of the things that can apparently contribute to kidney issues in cats is if they eat too much dry food and don't drink enough water; cats are adapted to get a lot of their water from their food since they're originally desert animals, and might not get enough water if they don't eat wet food. Unfortunately, Dozy won't eat wet food no matter what; she categorically refuses to touch the stuff. So a few months ago, we were looking for ways to get Dozy more fluids, and my wife noticed at the pet store a cat drink--basically meat broth with some floaty bits in--that was low-protein and meant for cats with kidney issues. So we figured, worth a try, right?

Great news: she loved it. Super tasty apparently. Great success. Along with the kidney-sensitive treats we found, it was a nice way to supplement her diet. Unforseen long-term consequence though: she loved it so much she began demanding it throughout the day. Like, would come up to us and meow, and meow, and meow, and not stop, until we got up, went to the kitchen, and got her some cat drink.

And by doing so on demand, we have unfortunately created a monster: no matter what we are doing at home, Dozy knows that if she sits next to you and meows, 1) you know what she wants, and 2) you know that she will not stop until you get it for her now. And when you do get it, she gets extremely excited. She will bum rush the kitchen door as you enter. She will run around your feet as you open the can. She will let out the creakiest, crunchiest, most nails-on-the-chalkboard meow you've ever heard if she thinks you're not going fast enough.

I do not begrudge her this. It is gratifying to care for a creature whose most ardent desires are so simple that it is this easy to fulfill them. But I am a little sad, because I know in my heart that I have never loved any comestible as much as she loves this cat drink. She has a pleasure of a purity and intensity that I will never know.

[the creacher in question]

[starpros-sunshine]

Hmm tomorrow will be a tad awkward....

[itsalwaysdark]

i do need 2 work on rewiring my brain so that my immediate very first thought whenever i dont do a small task (like brushing ny teeth taking a shower picking up my room etc) isnt 'We Should Kill Connor ." this would be pretty good for me to do. putting this on the list

[toleen-hassouna]

Help me get my life back, achieve my goal, and save the rest of my family

Education, which was young Tulin's passion, now seems like a distant memory, as there is no school, no home, and no safe place. The war has forced us to abandon our dreams and our work. Life as we knew it has stopped, swallowed up by a sea of ​​uncertainty, loss and despair

• My daughter Tulane is a radiant ray of sunshine, bringing joy, warmth and boundless love to everyone she meets. She has been through many health ailments.

• My middle daughter, Wateen, who is five years old, suffered a broken leg as a result of escaping during the aggression against the area surrounding us. Wateen suffers from osteomalacia and poor growth. I hope that this incident will not be repeated and that I will not see anything bad about it

• This is our house, full of our memories and moments of joy and happiness, which has now turned into ruins. His destruction

broke our hearts

Despite the darkness that surrounds us, a ray of hope appears in our hearts - a longing to seek refuge in the embrace of safety, and to find solace in a land untouched by the scourges of war. Egypt beckons to us as a beacon of hope, promising safe haven and the opportunity to rebuild our shattered lives. However, the path to freedom is fraught with obstacles, and we are unable to afford the journey that might lead us to a new beginning.

My family and I are looking forward to evacuating to Egypt, but as you know, a lot of money is needed to pay for the coordination costs in order to cross the border, and we still need money to get the total amount required so that we can travel.

With each passing day, our burdens grow heavier, and our pleas for help become more urgent. We long for the warmth of a safe haven, an opportunity to regain what we have lost and forge a path to a brighter future

My family and I are about to embark on this journey of hope, but we cannot do it alone. Our situation is dire, and we need your support to rebuild our lives and provide a future for our children. Your kindness and generosity can make a big difference. Your contributions will help us provide safe shelter, access to medical care, and the basic necessities of life and we humbly appeal to you, kind souls, to extend your helping hand. Your generosity may pave the way for us to escape this nightmare, and give us a chance to start over

Please, consider helping us during these critical times. Every donation, regardless of size, brings us one step closer to safety, stability and the opportunity to rebuild our lives

With gratitude from the bottom of our hearts, we thank you for every donation, every engagement, and every ounce of compassion you provide to our cause. Your support means more than words can express. Together, we can turn our story of loss into a journey of hope and resilience.

My campaign number is 320

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your concern

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