Rock and Roll History GRADUATE

This is the one that fucking broke me. I’m bawling my eyes out, grieving a girl I never knew as if she were my family, because we’re sisters. Juniper, I will never forget your voice and I hope you’re still singing wherever you are now ❤️

Palestinian children were prevented from going to school by razor wire and Israeli soldiers — so they sat down and studied right in front of them

@ArtLaish Oh no theyre both so cool 😭 maybe you could keep the pop of blue by making it a choker? That way the shoulders are still out

New Print Concept! Need help deciding if I should give her this blue undershirt or not.

New artwork 'Up in Smoke' (2026) by Palestinian Artist ABD ELRAHIM FARAJALLAH

I grew up into someone with agency. I drive from parking lot to parking lot in the dark. I see my friends. We go to parking lots. We drive past data centers and paramilitaries and fence after fence after fence. Free to watch the world blossom with smoke and bear our gray fruit

"Survivors need to name people!!" Hi! Epstein Island Survivor here! I've been naming people for over 8 years. However, we get HEAVILY retaliated against. For example, in my case, I went public in October 2017. In December 2017 when I gave birth to my daughter, CPS opened a Substance Exposed Newborn case, even though all tests came back NEGATIVE. See below. CPS didn't want follow up drug testing. They didn't want parenting classes. The ONLY thing they wanted from me? "Stop posting on Social Media". What was I talking about? How I was trafficked among Epstein's ilk as a child. Even though her bloodwork was almost perfect (Posted Below), CPS and Dr Mengele (Michelle) Chudow used @GBMCHealthcare to medically abuse my daughter, take her, and traffick her. In fact, less than 24 hours after she was removed, "In case of neglect," there's a SEVERE decline in her health, as shown below. Pictures of bruises were included to show how she needed IVs after said removal. We STILL don't know what caused the severe decline, as @GBMCHealthcare testified in open court that they were directed not to document everything done to my daughter. In violation of both State and Federal Law. My daughter was in Foster Care for over 5 years, with Foster Parents who became "Best Friends" with my father, who raped and trafficked me throughout my childhood - and she started showing symptoms of enduring similar abuse. I started to put together that if *I* was adopted and trafficked among Epstein's Ilk, how many other children who have been through the CPS/Foster/Adoption industries have gone through something similar? This enraged CPS, and they extorted my husband into filing a Police Report against me, and I was held a political prisoner, with no trial, and all charges essentially dropped, for about 2 and a half years. My daughter is home now - After being violated and molested in Foster Care for over 5 years... All thanks to @GBMCHealthcare and their refusal to report child abuse to the proper authorities, as they are required to do, by law. On top of all that? When I talked about the way @GBMCHealthcare abused and trafficked my daughter, they sent "Cease and Desist" letters, attempting to threaten me into silence. So, while I completely understand the Public's desire for all of the names, we've known about Epstein for decades. And some of us have been public for quite a few years... But we were by ourselves, with no support, and massive, corrupt enterprises using any means they could to silence us. Heck, since then, my former life coach has been lying about my testimony to bring FALSE child trafficking allegations against President Trump / Biden, General Flynn, and others. As seen below. They've done this to multiple other Survivors before me, as well. This is done with the intent and purpose of silencing Survivors by inciting violence against us, and encouraging calls to CPS to have our children taken and trafficked. So, while I appreciate your newfound interest in the Epstein Files, we've been dealing with their crimes for far longer than you have. You don't know the retaliation we deal with. But we ARE here. We ARE talking. Some of us have been for quite a while... Unfortunately, our voices fell upon deaf ears. But, not for much longer... Thank you for finally starting to listen! <3

Protester in Minnesota: I’m 70 years old and I’m fucking angry *disappears into gas*

Holy Crap these were People that were detained by ICE & are now DEAD! These people are from all over the World & their families still don’t know why they died! Most of these people are young like in their 30’s so it wasn’t from natural causes or old age! Are they killing them too

men tend to figure that if a girl says no and stay pleasant and don't stomp out of the room it's an invitation to try his luck. then if she gives in men figure it's a shared mutually desired pleasant experience no it feels really really really bad actually

Sudan is getting WIPED OUT by the UAE backed RSF I WILL NOT BE SILENT ABOUT THIS. Ever since I called out the UAE for this my acocunt reach was DESTROYED. I WONT STOP. The RSF must be STOPPED

if you've ever used the orange and pink lesbian flag i designed can you please share this 😭

@Curt_Tiwone The conflation of israel and judaism has been so harmful for the whole world, and so many jewish folks are so oblivious, they hear someone talking about their support of israel for any number of reasons and assume they are friendly to jewish folks and stay in dangerous situations

Do Jewish ppl not know how MAGA ppl talk about them lmao? Girl, the lady beside you hates you!

This morning, at 9:30, my mother called me. I was at the hospital, my hands still smelling of blood, when her voice came through, shaking and hurried: Rice. Oil. Sugar. Three words. So ordinary once. Now they fall like the sound of church bells in an abandoned city, echoing through emptiness. She told me to go to the market quickly, before they disappeared again, swallowed by the hunger of a hundred thousand hands. I told my colleagues I had something urgent to do. Urgent, yes. But here, everything is urgent. Breathing is urgent. Dying is urgent. Finding bread is urgent. Before I left, I took off my white coat. I could not bear to be seen as a doctor scavenging for food, to watch the last threads of their respect fall apart in their eyes. When I stepped outside, the street met me not as a road but as a wound. Men sat against the walls with their heads in their hands, faces lost in shadows. Mothers wept in silence, shoulders trembling under an invisible weight. And there, in the middle of the road, a woman, perhaps thirty years old, holding a small white bundle. A child. Wrapped for burial. She was speaking to a man on a horse cart. Her voice was low, stripped of life. She was negotiating the price to take her baby to the cemetery. Alone. No hands on her shoulder, no voices to stand with her. Surrounded by people, and yet she might as well have been standing in the middle of an empty desert. I stopped moving. My mother’s request still hung in the air, but I called her back. I told her I could not go to the market. Because how can a man carry bread in one hand and the memory of that white bundle in the other? And now, hours later, I am still there, in that street, standing before her, unable to step past her. My mind has become a house with only one room, and she is standing in the center of it, and I cannot leave. My days are now nothing but a circle: searching for water, searching for food, finding money, avoiding displacement, counting how to survive the next hour, the next day. But when do we live? When do we breathe as human beings, without the taste of ashes in our mouths? I feel my mind breaking, not in silence, not in peace, but like glass under pressure. I am speaking to you now as a man who is drowning in the same place he was born. This is not for your pity. It is a cry, an outstretched hand in the dark. If there is a bridge, even the narrowest one, throw it to me. I will rebuild myself if I reach safety. I will be whole again. But here, every hour takes something from me I will never get back. And still she stands before me, the woman in the road, the child in her arms. And I think, perhaps she too once believed there would be a bridge. #GazaGenocide

@XavierILL "I wanna be a real boy" takes on such different undertones with this, wow what a beautiful concept, i love the blue fairy design

If I got to pitch a retelling of Pinocchio it would be set in the swamplands of Florida in the 30s, with Black protagonists, a Klansman as the antagonist and Jiminy as a cicada !! Would yall watch 😝?

Take this one to prison

@Curt_Tiwone This is beauuuuutiful omg, like a painting

The only flex I care to have ❤️

I found it yesterday. A piece of shrapnel, cold and brutal, weighing no less than two kilograms, lying beside the bed of a boy no older than nine. He slept, or perhaps only pretended. His breathing was shallow but steady, as though his soul had learned to hide from the world. This grotesque relic of war had torn through the zinc roof above us, followed by a rain of smaller, sharper pieces. They fell without intention, without malice, like the blind fingers of chaos fumbling across the earth, striking the just and unjust alike. I held the thing in my hand. It was heavy. Heavier than it should be. Not by mass, but by meaning. It carried the weight of a question I can no longer answer: Why are we still alive when so many better than us are not? There is no glory here. No nobility in suffering. I do not heal. How can one heal in hell? I merely bind what bleeds and pray it holds. They call this place a clinic. But what it truly is… is a final whisper before the silence. I will confess: I am tired. Not just in body, but in soul. I once believed in duty. In the sanctity of the Hippocratic oath. But now I find myself treating children whose bones I cannot mend, whose pain I cannot lessen. And I ask myself, with bitter honesty: Is this mercy, or is it cruelty disguised as care? Jabalia al-Balad is no longer a city. It is a graveyard that hasn’t finished burying its dead. In three days, over forty buildings vanished as if some monstrous mouth swallowed them whole. Entire families erased. No names. No graves. No mourning. Only dust and absence. I considered leaving. God knows I did. There was even a moment, brief but electric, when I believed I had a right to leave. But then I looked into the eyes of a mother cradling her burnt child, her lips cracked from thirst, her hands trembling not from fear, but from the weight of love. And I understood: No one has the right to abandon the wounded when they can still stand. So I return. Every other day, I walk into this inferno. I buy medicine with what little money strangers still send us. And I pray. Not for survival. But for clarity. For the strength to keep choosing to care in a world that punishes the caring. Yes, I am afraid. Terribly so. Each morning I ask myself: What right do I have to risk what remains of me? And each morning, a darker voice answers: What right do you have not to? They say the healthcare system here has collapsed. That doctors are working in ruins. Yes, it is true. But even that fails to capture the madness. We work beneath falling missiles. We stitch flesh with shaking fingers while the sky groans above us. We whisper words of comfort into ears that may not live to hear them. And still, the world asks us to prove our humanity. As if we are the ones in question. But I tell you: our humanity is not in question. It is crucified. And I, a doctor in Gaza, am merely one of many still clinging to the faith. Not because I believe it will save me, but because I believe that suffering beside the innocent is the last honest thing a man can do. #GazaGenocide‌

@Curt_Tiwone Assuming theyre all done with food now, since they ate yesterday; if it was really nutritious they would just be done with eating now, right?

They on Facebook eating this uppp, lawd they bout dumber than dick

Since putting snipers on students like me, the president of IU has received a massive pay raise and almost a half million dollars in bonuses 👍