I'm Never Forgetting The Palestinian Babies That Were Left To Starve To Death Then Rot In Their Beds

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian babies that were left to starve to death then rot in their beds by the IOF.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian doctors surrounded by bodies of dead children begging the world to stop the slaughter.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian children who held a press conference in English to beg the world to stop murdering them because they want to live.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Priest who said "We will not accept your apology after the genocide" to the world.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Imam who used the speakers of the Mosque, not to call people to prayer but to call out to God while the world around them was burning from American supplied Israeli bombs.

I'm never forgetting the grandfather who held his dead grandchild in his arms. Or the father carrying the remains of his two children in plastic shopping bags. Or the mother holding her dead child in a shroud. Or the father sitting among the rubble after he lost his whole family. Or the girl trapped under a broken building begging for people to save her family first. Or the boy who cried when he saw his brother alive. Or the girl who asked if she was still alive after being pulled from the rubble. Or the boy who carried the remains of his brother in his backpack. Or the old man the IOF used for a photoshoot before they shot him dead after getting pictures. Or the little boy wearing plastic gloves to pick up the remains of his family. Or the graves desecrated. Or the body of that small baby girl left alone in a tent because no one knew who she was or if her family was alive, small and alone and not one person who knew her name to bury her. Or the young boy who was shot in the street while his sister watched from the window. Or the men and boys who were stripped naked in winter. Or those tortured. Or those made to stand in open graves. Or the people who were raped by IOF soldiers. Or Palestinian workers kidnapped by the IOF and then labeled with wristbands, each one reduced to a number, then made to walk back to Gaza to be killed in the world's largest open air concentration camp. Or the people of Gaza starving because Israeli Zionists are blocking aid trucks. Or the Israelis dancing and celebrating the death of Palestinians. Or the lies spread by Zionists and their supporters. Or the people profiting off the oppression and deaths of Palestinians. Or the people of the West Bank being killed or kidnapped by the IOF. Or old woman who was older than the creation of the terror state of "Israel" who was shot by snipers for saying that. Or the Israelis dressed up as Palestinians to enter a hospital and kill three Palestinians in their beds. Or every single Palestinian currently kept in an Israeli prison. Or the journalists, doctors, poets, men, women, children, and the unborn all massacred. Or the fact that WCNSF exists now. Or the woman who refused to wash the blood from her hands. Or the dead, unburied and unmourned.

I'm never forgetting those who chose silence in the face of a genocide.

I may not know all their names but I will not forget the over 30,000 Palestinians dead. Or the over 60, 000 people hurt. Or the unknown number of people missing, still lost under the rubble. Or the 12,000 children slaughtered. An entire generation crippled or murdered.

I will never forget these things when Palestine is free.

More Posts from Littleaxoltotlisabouttokill and Others

guys i actually beg of you to not let palestine become an unpleasant flashback, a transient tumblr trend, a hasbeen subject that just faded away. as an arab—and specifically iraqi—girl, i know what it feels like to have family displaced all over the world as a result of western imperialism. i know what it feels like to not be able to step foot into your homeland because it’s no longer safe. as an american iraqi, raised in the us and insulated from my roots, it wasn’t until last summer that i was able to visit iraq for the first time, and even then my family was worried for my safety—in my own blood country. although nothing like what palestinians are experiencing right now, it might be the tiniest semblance of what it feels like to watch your country disintegrate in front of you.

and this is a universal arab experience. i volunteer weekly at a refugee center that serves middle eastern refugees, and every day i see the longing in their eyes when they speak of where they hail from. it’s safe to say that we will be getting a wave of palestinian refugees very soon: just another generation of arabs who can’t inhabit their own country.

arab culture is so rich, so profound, so beautiful. i am tired of being told by the world—through literal genocide—that it doesn’t mean anything. please never let this be forgotten. free palestine. free palestine. free palestine.

Vi loved powder, Silco loved Jinx, but the girl herself is a jump between these two. She is who was looking at both chairs and making a choice. She is talking in the third person. She is both pink and blue. She is the combination of deadly and playful that fought Ekko on the bridge. And that's the girl he loves.

does anyone wanna hold hands until we feel a little braver

you sprayed a murderer with a hose

Mike hit a murderer with a CAR

Only on tumblr does a near 40 year old cold case finally get solved because an X-Files shitposter found the body of the murderer stuck inside the mascot costume it used to kill people in at their workplace and started sharing pictures of him like he was the beloved company pet. Webbed site


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NOMNOMNOMNOMNOM

I have stolen your hair ties and i will eat them all. Nomnomnomnomnom

Hair ties? .. Those aren’t mine.

Those aren’t mine what the fuck are you eating-

Look At My Son And Praise Him Please

look at my son and praise him please


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I’M AT THE PIZZA HUT I’M AT THE TACO BELL I’M AT THE COMBINATION PIZZA HUT AND TACO BELL


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Today, Jordan airdropped food for Gaza. Most of it landed in the sea as fisherman went by boat to grab the bags. The food was sealed and everything was packed tightly for the possibility of it dropping in the sea so the food was edible but this is not enough. 4 planes for 2.1 million people is not enough. We need a ceasefire now and for the thousands of trucks that are blocked at the border to enter before this catastrophe continues to take lives.

In mine and many other east Asian cultures, the dragon traditionally symbolises things like power, wealth and strength (imperial symbol and all)

I think we often forget that in the story of the Great Race, the dragon came in fifth because it'd stopped to give people rain. Then it'd stopped again to push a rabbit adrift on a log across the wide river so it reached the shore safely (that's why the Rabbit year comes before the Dragon).

Dragons aren't meant to just be powerful - they are meant to do good with such power, and to help those in need.

So in this lunar new year, I hope you gain more power, so that you might be able to help others. I pray you have abundant resources so you may give to yourself and those around you. I wish you courage, endurance, kindness and generosity, for yourself and your people.

I hope you, and I, will be rain givers, life preservers, joy bringers.

I hope we will be dragons.

alright. as jello girl I am gonna...uhhhh. put red hood in red jello cause if my goal is to kill them putting him in red means he's probably less likely to be spotted if I have a bunch of giant jellos.

yo wait can my rouge fit have like jello chunks in my hair like those cosplayers that have way to much shit in their hair


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littleaxoltotlisabouttokill - Axol (she/they)
Axol (she/they)

i write sometimes i guess. theories as well-

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