bitcoinedgebottrading

[pumpkin-belly]

reminder: floof (2016, soon after he arrived)

[nostalgicfun]

Halloween 1999

[helpsalahfamily]

Please Don't Scroll 🥺🙏

I need your help 🫂

Donate to me, even if just a little.

Share the donation link among your friends.

Do not stop supporting us if you love Gaza and Palestine 🇵🇸🍉💔

My campaign is very slow in donating, my friends 😔😭

*Your support and donation to me will be a dose of hope for me and my family ❤️

* We are very tired and exhausted from the tragic life because the situation is very catastrophic 💔😔

*We have nothing, no home🏠, no work🧑‍💻

*The resistance to life is non-existent, there is no food, drink, and good health due to the health and life disasters that occur in Gaza 🤬

*My family and I are very tired, and many people in Gaza are suffering like me and perhaps more 😔

My campaign has been verified by @90-ghost , @gazavetters .

Butterfly 🦋 Effect 🦋 Project Line (944)

@heritageposts @neatfrog-blog @nuclearhearts @schoolhater98 @pretendingtobeaperson @a-hopeless-aromantic @orchidvioletindigo @ignoranceishibiscus @bisexuel @ihavenoideashelp @monsterbutch @buttercuparry @acepumpkinpatrick @just-browsings-world @heliopixels @pomodoko @pollackpatrol @murderbot @mushroomjar @a-shade-of-blue @clay-pidgeon @jezior0 @thrashfish @chronicschmonic @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness-blog @malcriaada @ana-barroso @retvolution @deathlonging @appsa @brokenbackmountain @sleevesareforlosers @strawberrysnipes @laurapalmerss @a1m3v @ghostofanonpast @postanagramgenerator @rhubarbspring @transmutationist @neptunering @northgazaupdates2 @foodforthot420 @deepspaceboytoy @turtletoria @khanger @devilofthepit @pcktknife @virfujiwara

[photographybyalyssa]

ᴬᵠᵘᵃʳᶦᵘᵐ, ᴮᶦᵒᴾᵃʳᵏ, ᴬˡᵇᵘᵠᵘᵉʳᵠᵘᵉ, ᴺᵉʷ ᴹᵉˣᶦᶜᵒ

[nobita-here]

[vincent35169]

[inbabylontheywept]

my grandpa was a good man. and it really wasnt his fault - recreationally lying to kids is a proud family tradition - but he told me, once, that cutting a worm in half resulted in two worms.

i think he said it so i'd be more morally okay with fishing? i actually dont remember the context.

point was, he told me this, and he understimated (by a very large margin) how much i liked worms. i was a worm boy. very wormy. and after hearing that, i went home, and i dug through the garden, flipped over every rock, did everything i could to gather as many worms as i could, and then i uh.

i cut them all in half. every worm i could find. all of them. with scissors.

i then took this pile of split worms, and i put them in a box with a bit of lettuce and some water and stuff and went to bed expecting to double my worms overnight. i have math autism, so i had a vague understanding that if i did this just a few times in a row, i would eventually have a completely unreasonable amount of worms.

i was very excited to become this plane's worm emperor.

(i think i was...six?)

anyway, i did not become the inheritor of the worm crown. i instead woke up to a box of dead worms and cried. a lot. i got diagnosed with panic attacks as a teenager, but i think i had them as a kid, i just had no idea what they were. i was kind of processing that a.) i had killed what i had assumed was every single worm in my yard, and thus would have no more worms, and b). i was going to like, worm hell.

(six year babylon spent a lot of time worrying about god.)

so i kind of freaked out, and i climbed a tree, because god can only smite you if you're touching the ground (?) and i sat up there mostly inconsolable until my mom came out and asked, hey, what's up? what happened?

so i explained to her that i had killed all of the worms, forever, and was also Damned, and she took me to the compost pile, and we dug for all of five seconds and found like twenty more worms.

the compost pile was full of worms.

she then told me that a). there were more worms, and we could put them back under rocks and stuff and recolonize our yard and b). that one day, i would die, and go to heaven, and be able to talk to the worms face to face. that i'd be able to tell them all that i was very sorry, and that i killed them on accident, driven only by excessive Love, and that she was positive they would forgive me because worms have six hearts and no malice.

at that point, i think i was sixty percent tear-snot by weight, and i had no choice but to gather enough worms that i could hug them. which my mom helped with. and then after that she helped me put some worms back under each rock.

and for my epilogue: i spent a significant portion of my childhood in trees. and for many years after, even when my mom didnt know i was watching, i would catch her giving the space under the rocks a light spritz with the hose. not because she loved worms.

but because she loved me.

[meme-dealer999]

[muchlovefleursblog]

[nataliesplatalie]

Sophie Pearson, I remember you in the ocean, and I'll remember you as red, both c. 2023 and oil pastel on wood

[reesestshirt]

When I was in middle school, I tried to learn how to crochet. I knew how to knit already, so I figured ‘how hard could it be’ and used my Christmas money on a brand new set of aluminum hooks and a how-to book.

To say it was difficult was an understatement. I spent hours pouring over my book, begging to gain some inkling of understanding from what felt like incomprehensible runes. My reward? One lopsided trapezoid of lumpy fabric and a resolve to never pick up a crochet hook again.

And so life went on, I finished middle school and high school without giving crochet so much as a second glance. In college, I read about how crochet couldn’t be replicated by a machine, it was unique in a way that knitting and many other fiber arts weren’t.

For Christmas last year, my girlfriend gave me what I now consider to be my most prized possession: a crocheted plush of my favorite pokemon. I raved over her skills and, since she never learned how to knit, we decided to have a yarn date at some point and teach each other our respective skills.

We never did get around to that yarn date. She passed a few months after our declaration, leaving me to inherit what was left of her yarn.

Nearly a decade after my initial attempt, I got ready for the toughest battle of my life. My weapons? One skein of yarn, a YouTube video, and a crochet hook that I had somehow never gotten rid of.

I slowly made my way through the video, redoing my work a couple times until I was satisfied with my product: a small, slightly misshapen rectangle.

I looked at my pristinely-made pokemon plush with hope for the first time in months and thought to myself, ‘maybe crocheting isn’t the hardest thing in the world, maybe you were just 12.’

Maybe this isn’t the hardest thing in the world. Maybe I’m just 21.

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Jason Limon

[feral-ballad]

Mohammed El-Kurd, from Rifqa; “Rifqa”

[Text ID: “I cried—not for the house / but for the memories I could have had inside it.”]

[nobita-here]

[classycookiexo]