❝ The sky stitched with waning gold, A tale of day, now softly told. The sun will sink low, its fire dim, A lantern's light on sunset's brim.
The world exhales a gentle sigh As dark shadows stretch and kiss the sky. The trees stand stiff, their branches bare, Caught in twilight's tender care.
Each thread of dusk, a brief glow, Untangled fast, yet sweet and slow. It intertwines the night with quiet grace, A tapestry time can't replace.
So linger here, in soft repose, Where every hour comes, then goes. For in the dusk, the heart may see, A moment's glance of eternity. ❞
"Become the human who makes other humans question their entire way of living."
My name is Nadin. I never imagined I would write something like this. I’ve always been someone who kept her worries quiet, someone who believed that even the hardest days could be endured with patience and faith. But right now, I am reaching out — not because I want to, but because I need to.
I am a wife, a mother, and one of many women in Gaza trying to survive days that feel like they have no end. There was a short time — a brief ceasefire — where we thought things might start to heal. Where the sound of war faded for just long enough to let us breathe. But that moment is gone now, and the fear has returned louder than before.
My days are filled with uncertainty, and my nights with prayer. We have lost so much. Our home was damaged, our sense of safety taken from us. But through all of this, I try to keep going. I try to hold on to what little peace I can create with my hands, my words, and my love.
I am not asking for much. Just a little help to keep our lives from falling further apart. To fix the small things — a cracked wall, a leaking roof, the pieces of daily life that help us hold on to dignity.
This campaign isn’t just about survival. It’s about holding on to what makes us human in a place that keeps trying to take that away. It’s about showing my daughter — even though I won’t mention her name here — that the world didn’t forget us.
If you’ve ever felt powerless in the face of suffering, please know that even the smallest gesture can carry great meaning. A kind word. A shared post. A quiet donation. These things remind us that we’re not alone.
I am still here. Still holding on. Still believing that people out there — people like you — still care.
Please, if you feel moved, consider supporting or sharing this campaign.
Another day, another torturous round of school.
Saiki Kusuo woke up as usual, his strawberry-colored hair already perfectly styled, without needing to do anything thanks to his psychic abilities. Not that he wanted to impress anyone – it was far from it. But since his telekinesis and all the other powers he had made it impossible to even think about doing something as mundane and simple as brushing his hair, he just lets his abilities handle it.
About school? It's the same as always for him. The pink haired psychic sits in his usual spot, trying to keep his psychic shields up to avoid hearing the inner thoughts of his classmates. Kineshi and Shun kept talking about their "awesome" plans for the weekend. Teruhashi keeps on being annoying and wanting to seek attention from him. Seriously, do they ever stop? All he ever wanted was to be average, not noticed by anyone. Was that too much to ask for?
Anyway, nothing noteworthy happened during the day. Oh, except for the usual noise from Riki, who tried to make him laugh by doing something ridiculous with his hair. Of course, he didn't laugh. He should know better by now. But he couldn't blame him. In his world, that's probably the best way to get attention.
By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of another pointless day, Kusuo was already preparing for his escape. He could barely stand to stay any longer in that horrendous school. Not that he has a choice, though. Being stuck in this world with a bunch of clueless people who have no idea about the disaster that is his existence? That's his life.
When he got home after a little walk in peace (somehow managing to get away from Nendo), he immediately headed to his room. Inside there it was quiet and peaceful. His only sanctuary. The one place where he could try to keep things from falling apart.
But then, something very annoying happened.
Kusuo was about to settle into his chair and relax for the evening when he noticed something unusual. One of the pink clips on his head – the ones that help stabilize his powers – was a little off. [Huh? The hell?] He didn't think too much of it at first, but as he concentrated and went up to reach it, he realized that it was, in fact, deflating.
Great. Just great.
He sighed deeply. Again? These things were important – more so than most people realize. If he doesn't have his pink clips fully inflated or in a good condition, he'll risk losing control of his powers. Which means his sneezes could level an entire block, he might break the floor with just applying a little bit more pressure by stepping on it, and worst of all, his entire life could slowly spiral into chaos. He quickly rushed to his dresser to grab the emergency backup box that Kusuke left behind, the one he kept hidden in case of situations like this. But when he turned back around, he was already beginning to feel a shift in the air. His heart suddenly dropped. "...Hey, Kusuo? I need your help–"
[ Dad! Could you not right now?! ] Kusuo huffed as he shouted telepathically to him, hoping he could just ask him to not be an idiot for once and not make things worse for him.
But of course, his dad didn't hear him. He never did, and that's what led to the problem.
He has teleportation as one of his abilities, and while he normally has it under control, this time, his powers got all out of whack. It wasn't just a simple teleportation – He wasn't even trying to teleport himself! He then felt his nose feel ticklish. He let out a small sneeze.
A simple, singular sneeze.
That's all it took.
And as soon as he did, his father – who had been standing just a little too close – disappeared. Kusuo froze in horror, staring at the spot where he had been.
What did I just do? Kusuo is sure he felt him pop out of existence for just a second... And then... He was gone.
[ DAD?! ] He was panicking. But of course, he wasn't there to hear him.
That's when it hit him. In his panic, his powers hadn't just shifted his position a few feet like they usually do when he teleports. Oh, no. His powers were too unstable. He had teleported his dad into another location. He tried to sense him by emitting signals, but he couldn't. His father wasn't found anywhere in the world no matter how he tried. Did he just teleport him into somewhere other than this world?
Kusuo's knees felt weak as he slumped to the floor, his head spinning. This was bad. Really, really bad. He was responsible for making sure everything in the universe stayed intact. And now, he probably sent his father to a completely different parallel universe. He's not even sure how to get him back.
His heart was racing. He's the one who handles all of the chaos, yet somehow, he's the one causing it. The pink haired man started thinking about how he could possibly fix this, but then the panic set in. What if there's no way to get him back? What if he's lost forever in some random world? He tried to calm himself down, but the truth was, he really couldn't. It was getting harder and harder to control his powers. He could feel his mind getting weaker, like a rubber band that was stretched too far. There was only one thing he could do now.
He needed to find a way to reinflate those damaged limiters and get control back. Fast. How did this escalate to this point?
tried to draw anya again
My name is Abdelmajed. I never imagined I’d be sharing my story like this, but life in Gaza has become unbearable. I am a survivor of the war here, and in the blink of an eye, everything I once knew—my home, my safety, my community—was ripped away from me.
The war has transformed Gaza into a graveyard of broken dreams. The buildings that once stood as symbols of life and resilience are now piles of rubble. Every corner is filled with the echoes of explosions. Every moment is shrouded in uncertainty. There is no security. There is no stability. There is no light at the end of the tunnel.
Basic needs have become luxuries. Food is scarce. Clean water is even scarcer. Hospitals are overwhelmed and under-resourced, and there is almost no medical care to be found. Every night, families go to bed hungry, praying they’ll wake up to see another day. The cost of basic necessities has skyrocketed, and it’s become a daily battle just to survive.
I’ve seen things I never thought possible—standing in long lines for a piece of bread, rationing every drop of water, and watching my people suffer in silence. I have lost everything—my home, my safety, my dignity.
Escape from Gaza is my only hope, but it’s almost impossible without financial help. The cost of evacuation is far beyond my means, and without support, I’m trapped in a warzone with no way out.
I’m reaching out to you now, in the hopes that someone, anyone, can help. I am not asking for luxury. I am asking for a chance—just a chance—to live. A chance to escape this never-ending cycle of fear, destruction, and loss. A chance to rebuild my life somewhere safe, where I can begin again, where I can find hope once more.
Any amount you can give will help me get closer to safety. Even the smallest donation will make a difference—it could be the lifeline I need to survive. If you are unable to donate, please share my story. The more people who hear it, the better the chance that I can find the support I desperately need.
Your kindness and support mean the world to me. You’re not just helping me escape a war; you’re giving me a chance to live, to rebuild, to breathe again.
Thank you for listening. Thank you for caring.
Please take a few minutes to watch the video and read this post.
I am writing these words after losing hope in everyone… except for you, my friends. Tumblr has a very large number of users, estimated in the millions . That’s an enormous number! But imagine, with all those of people, how would you feel if people saw you and ignored you? You’d feel deeply disappointed, right? Or maybe you’d even wish for death.
Have you ever wished for death? For me, I feel like I’d rather die than be ignored by everyone. If I wasn’t in desperate need of help, I wouldn’t ask anyone for it. I really need help.
Imagine for a moment that you have a small child you love dearly, and you’re forced to watch her suffer in front of your eyes. This isn’t just an imagination for me; it’s my reality. My family and I live this pain every day.
Please, be our hope. Be our voice. Be the ones who save us from despair. Don’t ignore us. Donate, even if it’s just $5 .
There are so many people reading this post right now. I beg anyone who sees these words to donate if they can, and if not, to share this post. Please, don’t leave us behind.
Be our family, or think of us as members of your own family, and save us from this suffering. No matter how small the amount, your help means the world to us. And if you can’t donate, share this post and add a few kind words to inspire others to help.
Thank you so much, everyone. I wish you all the best.
✅vetted by The ButterflyEffect Projects #764 on verified campaigns list) previously shared by 90-ghost ✅
i write, i draw, and i sleep ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ𝄞𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𓈈⭒🦢 ゚.𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚: ilovesyogurt_𝐖𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐝: @Eleanor_Is_Cool321
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