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Rainer Maria Rilke, The Dark Interval: Letters on Loss, Grief, and Transformation

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verified ways to send aid to gaza directly

Help a Palestinian family directly:

gazafunds.com - Donate directly to a Palestinian family in urgent need of evacuation, medical attention, food, rebuilding homes/businesses etc. (Spotlights 1 verified gfm at a time so if you don't know who/where to donate to just go here and donate to the one they show you!)

Help provide tents (urgent):

The Sameer Project: Currently providing tents for displaced families in Gaza (emergency bc tents in Rafah are being burned as we speak) (paypal) (gfm)

Food, cash & essentials:

Care for Gaza: Working on the ground in Gaza to distribute food, cash, medicine & other essentials to displaced families. (paypal) (gfm)

Direct Aid for Gaza: also working on the ground in Gaza to distribute food, cash & other daily essential suppliess to displaced families. (paypal) (gfm)

Water:

Gaza Municipality's water project: The official Municipality of Gaza needs help rebuilding the water infrastructure in Gaza City to restore access to clean water and waste management services for the people of Gaza. (This campaign only has a couple of weeks left but it's still only at 15%!)

eSIMs (urgent):

guide to buy & send esims for gaza

crips for esims for gaza: If you don't know how to buy esims or don't have the capacity to manage them (e.g. topping up regularly), this team of volunteers are collecting funds to buy & manage gaza esims regularly

Medical Aid

Palestine Red Crescent Society: Provides emergency medical and ambulance services and humanitarian relief on the ground in Gaza e.g. rescuing and treating the wounded.

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Once, during med school, after passing a tough exam, Bones wandered drunkenly out of the party his classmates were throwing at the bar, and into the nearby tattoo parlor. Now, he’d asked the tattoo artist to tattoo “Hippocrates” on his back, but Leonard’s accent gets thicker and less intelligible when he drinks. Moreover, the tattoo artist had never heard of Hippocrates, so he wound up tattooing the word “HYPOCRITE” instead, thinking, “Weird but ok; some people lose bets, I guess.”

One day early into their time rooming together at the Academy, Jim discovers Bones’ tattoo, and thinks it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen. He asks why Bones never had it removed, and Bones says it’s because at first, he couldn’t find the time, and later on, he just kept it as a reminder not to do stupid shit, and also to remind himself not to rest on the laurels of good intentions, because even the best intentions sometimes have unintended consequences. Besides, he’d at least had the good sense to put it in a place where it would never be seen in a professional setting.

A year into their friendship, Bones tells Jim why he really still has the tattoo. Or, rather, after Jim makes another stupid joke about it on what turns out to be too close to the anniversary date, Bones takes a deep breath, gets a resolute look in his eye, and for the first time begins to talk about his father’s death. How it happened a few years after med school. How sick and desperate his father had become, and how he had begged him to end his suffering. How he had agonized over his own personal no-win scenario. How he hadn’t lost his medical license, but he sometimes wished he had. 

How he’d actually always meant to remove the tattoo, but after violating his most sacred oath at his father’s request, seeing the cure discovered (not by him, of course) three months later, and fleeing a marriage in shambles, he decided to keep it permanently. As a reminder of who he really was. HYPOCRITE.

It’s not funny anymore, and Jim decides then and there that it’s his mission to eventually convince Bones to remove the word from his body. 

Jim doesn’t have a lot of luck. Not with casual insinuations about starting fresh, or even a full-on prepared speech. Not after going through every possible Starfleet regulation on appearance or cultural sensitivity that would require Bones to remove it, and writing (and deleting) three times an email to Pike asking him to somehow create one.

Not even when he deliberately gets his own small, deeply stupid tattoo on Risa, just so he can ask Bones to accompany him to a tattoo removal service, and “Hey, Bones, as long as you’re already here-”

“No,” Bones says. I know what you’re doing, his eyebrow says. “Thanks, but no. Just get that thing off of yourself so I don’t have to look at it the next time you land yourself on a biobed.”

Jim fucking hates Bones’ tattoo. 

When he catches himself seriously contemplating sneaking in and somehow lasering it off while Bones is asleep, he realizes that he needs to let it go. At least, for a little while. Bones is going to do what he’s going to do.

Jim thinks that being responsible for saving the entire Earth should have been enough to convince Bones to let the tattoo go, but apparently not. Upon reflection, Jim realizes that the reason Bones saved the world in the first place is because he has an impossible time letting certain things…or people…go. Not every attachment is created equal, though, and Jim resolves to renew his campaign. At some point.

A month after Jim wakes up in the hospital in the aftermath of Khan – after the initial shock, the deposition, and the first round of physical therapy that allows him to move into a shared apartment under the watchful eye of his physician – Bones sits him down and tells him what really happened. That he wasn’t mostly dead, he was really dead. That Bones had stuffed him into a cryotube after a single purr from a zombie tribble and had told Hippocrates to kindly fuck off just one more time as he brought Jim back from the dead. That he wasn’t even sure if it would work, because nobody had ever done anything like it before. That he’d almost lost his license again.

“Third time’s a charm,” he says.

Then he looks at Jim like he’s expecting the postmortem existential crisis train to pull into the station right on time.

Jim, of course, misses his stop and fixates on another location. His eyes wander to Bones’ back.

“I made you violate your oath again,” Jim says, miserably. “I guess at this rate you’re never going to get rid of that tattoo. You saved me, you know. That word doesn’t belong there.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” says Bones, with a bit of a smile. “This time…” He clears his throat. “…In this particular case, I think it’s growing on me.”

“…No, not literally. Shut up, kid.”

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I am not the divine masculine or the divine feminine I am the divine comedy and you will address me as such

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“I hope you live without the need to dominate, and without the need to be dominated. I hope you are never victims, but I hope you have no power over other people. And when you fail, and are defeated, and in pain, and in the dark, then I hope you will remember that darkness is your country, where you live, where no wars are fought and no wars are won, but where the future is. Our roots are in the dark; the earth is our country. Why did we look up for blessing — instead of around, and down? What hope we have lies there. Not in the sky full of orbiting spy-eyes and weaponry, but in the earth we have looked down upon. Not from above, but from below. Not in the light that blinds, but in the dark that nourishes, where human beings grow human souls.”

—

Ursula K. Le Guin, “A Left-Handed Commencement Address” (Mills College, 1983)

this passage planted itself in my consciousness when i was 24, and 10 years later, it informs so much of my approach to living, thinking, creating.

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everything i learn about tswift is against my will

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I am not the divine masculine or the divine feminine I am the divine comedy and you will address me as such

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{Quotes:Nitya prakash/Richard siken ,crush}

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Gavin Yuan Gao, from "Lullaby"

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An Interview with Jenny Slate, by Sara Black McCulloch

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Carl Phillips, from “Civilization”, Then the War: And Selected Poems, 2007-2020

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questions that feel like a hug:

•want the last bite?

•when do i get to see you again?

•want to call instead?

•need me to stay a little longer?

•wanna borrow my jacket?

•do you want advice or just a hug?

•why do you feel that way?

•need another blanket?

•how can i love you better?

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Erika L. Sánchez, from “La Cueva”, Lessons on Expulsion

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