i feel like... we've had winter and snow for a long ass time, historically, ....... surely. surely the train system of germany..... surely
Bisan's recent post. I think it's important for you to read it. Tonight 03.12.23, journalists in gaza share their last messages. There are no words to describe the horrors unfolding in gaza right now.
I no longer have any hope of survival like I had at the beginning of this genocide, and I am certain that I will die in the next few weeks or maybe days. I have been sick with severe viral infection for days and cannot move from the mattress!
I suffer from nightmares that are so closely resemble reality that I no longer differentiate between reality and dream.
I live in a world other than the one I claimed to be building! I am a community activist who lived on the fantasy that the world was free and just, and I sought to bring rights not only to my people, but to many men and women in third world countries!
I was shocked that I was not from the third world! Indeed, we are the most humane and moral! Yes, because the world approves, supports, and finances the genocide we are being subjected to, legislates it, and gives reasons for for 58 days! While we are a people who have been living on occupied land for 75 years and are still searching for our rights and communicating our voice to the world!
My message to the world: You are not innocent of what is happening to us, you as governments or peoples that support Israelโs annihilation of my people. We will not forgive you, we will not forgive you, humanity will not forgive you, we will not forget, even if we die, the history will never forget .
A Message to friends: Thank you and the supporters around the world. You have been compassionate and very strong. We ask you not to lose hope, even if the world seems completely unfair and your efforts have not yet resulted in a ceasefire.
1. three moments in paris, mina loy/ 2. eurydice, sarah ruhl/ 3. orphรฉe ramenant eurydice des enfers, jean-baptiste camille corot/ eurydice, sarah ruhl/ 4. talk, hozier/ 5. hadestown, anais mitchell/ 6. the wounded eurydice, jean baptiste camille corot
His love for Gaza shone through in his photographs, seen in his steadfast portrayals of joy and beauty. Whimsical compositions by the sea depict young boys jumping and playing. In a series of works focused on his grandmother, a survivor of the 1948 Nakba who was displaced from her native village of Isdud, Arandas portrays her as a symbol of strength and perseverance in Gaza, zooming in on her weathered hands harvesting olives against deep fertile earth. Traces of personal and cultural histories can be seen in the crisp light of ripe olives and the details of intricate embroidery adorning her hanging dress.
โWhere can I begin talking about Gaza and Palestine, and how can I begin when I know that I am the living dead? Everyone who writes about Palestine has prepared himself to be among the dead, but despite our prior knowledge of our fate when we write and write about this land, we do not stop or for a moment hesitate to inhale her love,โ he reflected.
Remembering Gaza Photographer Majd Arandas, Killed by Israeli Airstrikes
I have noticed a tendency in some circles to, at least implicitly, disparage or diminish feelings of hopelessness and despair—feelings that touch on nihilism. I met and worked with a peaceworker in Iraqi Kurdistan who said that she didn't have much hope and didn't believe in God; and yet, she kept on working, even in the face of a tangible and profound violence and a rejection of metaphysical certainty, to document horrors and amplify the voices of the oppressed, read and love poetry, and witness to the possibility of nonviolence. I don't think that feelings of hopelessness and despair are inimical to the cultivation of devotion and a commitment to the notion that there are things that are worth saving, even or especially if the saving act feels impossible. We have to love even in the face of despair, even without the guarantee that love will, in some cosmological or eschatological sense, prevail. It is enough—more than enough—to move forward with our vulnerable and human hearts, our hearts that are softened and hardened and broken open and softened again, and hold to a love without guarantee.