skatehani

[skatehani]

With your support and appreciation, Rania was able to find what she loves to do under the difficult circumstances of bombing and starvation. Always keep an eye on what she will do and if you would like to support her through her fundraising campaign at the link, she has so far collected 5,300 out of 30,000.

@assiraphales @ankle-beez @nonbinarymerbabe @igothurtdoingsafetydance @iphijaania @unadulteratedragon @legitimately @mysharona1987 @irhabiya @el-shab-hussein @wellwaterhysteria @appsa @unadulteratedragon @nabulsi @oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain @stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy @nabulsi

[skatehani]

With your support and appreciation, Rania was able to find what she loves to do under the difficult circumstances of bombing and starvation. Always keep an eye on what she will do and if you would like to support her through her fundraising campaign at the link, she has so far collected 5,300 out of 30,000.

@assiraphales @ankle-beez @nonbinarymerbabe @igothurtdoingsafetydance @iphijaania @unadulteratedragon @legitimately @mysharona1987 @irhabiya @el-shab-hussein @wellwaterhysteria @appsa @unadulteratedragon @nabulsi @oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain @stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy @nabulsi

[skatehani]

In a bombed-out neighborhood of Gaza, Rania, a 26-year-old woman, stood staring at the pile of stones and twisted iron where her home had once stood. The wind was raising dust and whipping it across her cheeks, but she didn't shed a single tear. Her eyes were fixed, as if trying to recall something beyond the destruction: memories, laughter, the smell of bread in the morning, and the fragrant jasmine her mother had planted near the door.

Rania wasn't just a survivor. She was a painter. But her paintings no longer adorned the walls of galleries or small cafes. Now, she painted on the ruins of her homeland, trying to immortalize what could never be recovered.

In her right hand, she held a small, dusty notebook and in her left, a pencil. She sat on a broken stone that had been part of her home's staircase and began to paint. She didn't draw the destruction as it is, but as she saw it: The house standing, the windows open, the white curtains moving in the breeze, her mother calling her from the kitchen, her little brother running down the corridor, and herself looking out from the balcony to draw the sea. She was engraving the lines of memory with her pen as if to say, "Perhaps flying can erase walls, but no one can erase what I draw." A young neighbor passed by, recognized her, and asked, "Are you still drawing despite everything?" She replied, without taking her eyes off the paper, "I don't draw despite everything... I draw because everything is over." Rania's drawings spread across the internet, and people began to see her destroyed house through her eyes. One painting was titled "The House as It Was," another: "The Room I Dreamed of," and "The Fig Tree That Didn't Last the Season." In a world where images proliferate without a soul, Rania's paintings were a window beyond the destruction: an invitation to see not only what was lost, but also what must return. Although she still sleeps in a room without a roof, each painting she creates is a new ceiling for a homeland that never died.

@assiraphales @ankle-beez @nonbinarymerbabe @igothurtdoingsafetydance @iphijaania @unadulteratedragon @legitimately @mysharona1987 @irhabiya @el-shab-hussein @wellwaterhysteria @appsa @unadulteratedragon @nabulsi @oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain @stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy

[skatehani]

In a bombed-out neighborhood of Gaza, Rania, a 26-year-old woman, stood staring at the pile of stones and twisted iron where her home had once stood. The wind was raising dust and whipping it across her cheeks, but she didn't shed a single tear. Her eyes were fixed, as if trying to recall something beyond the destruction: memories, laughter, the smell of bread in the morning, and the fragrant jasmine her mother had planted near the door.

Rania wasn't just a survivor. She was a painter. But her paintings no longer adorned the walls of galleries or small cafes. Now, she painted on the ruins of her homeland, trying to immortalize what could never be recovered.

In her right hand, she held a small, dusty notebook and in her left, a pencil. She sat on a broken stone that had been part of her home's staircase and began to paint. She didn't draw the destruction as it is, but as she saw it: The house standing, the windows open, the white curtains moving in the breeze, her mother calling her from the kitchen, her little brother running down the corridor, and herself looking out from the balcony to draw the sea. She was engraving the lines of memory with her pen as if to say, "Perhaps flying can erase walls, but no one can erase what I draw." A young neighbor passed by, recognized her, and asked, "Are you still drawing despite everything?" She replied, without taking her eyes off the paper, "I don't draw despite everything... I draw because everything is over." Rania's drawings spread across the internet, and people began to see her destroyed house through her eyes. One painting was titled "The House as It Was," another: "The Room I Dreamed of," and "The Fig Tree That Didn't Last the Season." In a world where images proliferate without a soul, Rania's paintings were a window beyond the destruction: an invitation to see not only what was lost, but also what must return. Although she still sleeps in a room without a roof, each painting she creates is a new ceiling for a homeland that never died.

@assiraphales @ankle-beez @nonbinarymerbabe @igothurtdoingsafetydance @iphijaania @unadulteratedragon @legitimately @mysharona1987 @irhabiya @el-shab-hussein @wellwaterhysteria @appsa @unadulteratedragon @nabulsi @oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain @stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy

[skatehani]

My name is Hamed Yousef AlHajjar, I’m 18 years old, from Gaza.

Not long ago, I lost my father, Yousef AlHajjar, who was killed in an airstrike by the occupation.

He spent his life trying to protect us and provide for us, despite the extremely harsh conditions.

He was a strong, kind man. But in this war, no one is truly safe and now, he is gone.

Since that painful day, I became fully responsible for my mother and younger siblings.

Life in Gaza has become almost impossible. There’s no work, no safety, and at times, not even a piece of bread to eat.

I’m a young man, just starting my life, and I used to have dreams like any other person.

I loved roller skating and I dreamed of becoming good at it, maybe even joining competitions.

But the war stopped everything even dreams.

Today, my only concern is how to feed my family and help them survive with dignity.

I have no job, no income, no home nothing but my faith in God, and hope in your kind hearts.

After more than 600 days of war, patience, and pain, I finally decided to ask for help.

I’m not asking for much just the basics to survive.

Even a small donation could make a difference in our lives.

And if you can’t donate, please share my story. Maybe it will reach someone who can help.

I am Hamed, the son of the martyr Yousef AlHajjar…

And I’m still standing for my family, and for the dreams that still live inside me.

[skatehani]

My name is Hamed Yousef AlHajjar, I’m 18 years old, from Gaza.

Not long ago, I lost my father, Yousef AlHajjar, who was killed in an airstrike by the occupation.

He spent his life trying to protect us and provide for us, despite the extremely harsh conditions.

He was a strong, kind man. But in this war, no one is truly safe and now, he is gone.

Since that painful day, I became fully responsible for my mother and younger siblings.

Life in Gaza has become almost impossible. There’s no work, no safety, and at times, not even a piece of bread to eat.

I’m a young man, just starting my life, and I used to have dreams like any other person.

I loved roller skating and I dreamed of becoming good at it, maybe even joining competitions.

But the war stopped everything even dreams.

Today, my only concern is how to feed my family and help them survive with dignity.

I have no job, no income, no home nothing but my faith in God, and hope in your kind hearts.

After more than 600 days of war, patience, and pain, I finally decided to ask for help.

I’m not asking for much just the basics to survive.

Even a small donation could make a difference in our lives.

And if you can’t donate, please share my story. Maybe it will reach someone who can help.

I am Hamed, the son of the martyr Yousef AlHajjar…

And I’m still standing for my family, and for the dreams that still live inside me.

[skatehani]

My name is Hamed Yousef AlHajjar, I’m 18 years old, from Gaza.

Not long ago, I lost my father, Yousef AlHajjar, who was killed in an airstrike by the occupation.

He spent his life trying to protect us and provide for us, despite the extremely harsh conditions.

He was a strong, kind man. But in this war, no one is truly safe and now, he is gone.

Since that painful day, I became fully responsible for my mother and younger siblings.

Life in Gaza has become almost impossible. There’s no work, no safety, and at times, not even a piece of bread to eat.

I’m a young man, just starting my life, and I used to have dreams like any other person.

I loved roller skating and I dreamed of becoming good at it, maybe even joining competitions.

But the war stopped everything even dreams.

Today, my only concern is how to feed my family and help them survive with dignity.

I have no job, no income, no home nothing but my faith in God, and hope in your kind hearts.

After more than 600 days of war, patience, and pain, I finally decided to ask for help.

I’m not asking for much just the basics to survive.

Even a small donation could make a difference in our lives.

And if you can’t donate, please share my story. Maybe it will reach someone who can help.

I am Hamed, the son of the martyr Yousef AlHajjar…

And I’m still standing for my family, and for the dreams that still live inside me.

[skatehani]

In a bombed-out neighborhood of Gaza, Rania, a 26-year-old woman, stood staring at the pile of stones and twisted iron where her home had once stood. The wind was raising dust and whipping it across her cheeks, but she didn't shed a single tear. Her eyes were fixed, as if trying to recall something beyond the destruction: memories, laughter, the smell of bread in the morning, and the fragrant jasmine her mother had planted near the door.

Rania wasn't just a survivor. She was a painter. But her paintings no longer adorned the walls of galleries or small cafes. Now, she painted on the ruins of her homeland, trying to immortalize what could never be recovered.

In her right hand, she held a small, dusty notebook and in her left, a pencil. She sat on a broken stone that had been part of her home's staircase and began to paint. She didn't draw the destruction as it is, but as she saw it: The house standing, the windows open, the white curtains moving in the breeze, her mother calling her from the kitchen, her little brother running down the corridor, and herself looking out from the balcony to draw the sea. She was engraving the lines of memory with her pen as if to say, "Perhaps flying can erase walls, but no one can erase what I draw." A young neighbor passed by, recognized her, and asked, "Are you still drawing despite everything?" She replied, without taking her eyes off the paper, "I don't draw despite everything... I draw because everything is over." Rania's drawings spread across the internet, and people began to see her destroyed house through her eyes. One painting was titled "The House as It Was," another: "The Room I Dreamed of," and "The Fig Tree That Didn't Last the Season." In a world where images proliferate without a soul, Rania's paintings were a window beyond the destruction: an invitation to see not only what was lost, but also what must return. Although she still sleeps in a room without a roof, each painting she creates is a new ceiling for a homeland that never died.

@assiraphales @ankle-beez @nonbinarymerbabe @igothurtdoingsafetydance @iphijaania @unadulteratedragon @legitimately @mysharona1987 @irhabiya @el-shab-hussein @wellwaterhysteria @appsa @unadulteratedragon @nabulsi @oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain @stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy

[skatehani]

In a bombed-out neighborhood of Gaza, Rania, a 26-year-old woman, stood staring at the pile of stones and twisted iron where her home had once stood. The wind was raising dust and whipping it across her cheeks, but she didn't shed a single tear. Her eyes were fixed, as if trying to recall something beyond the destruction: memories, laughter, the smell of bread in the morning, and the fragrant jasmine her mother had planted near the door.

Rania wasn't just a survivor. She was a painter. But her paintings no longer adorned the walls of galleries or small cafes. Now, she painted on the ruins of her homeland, trying to immortalize what could never be recovered.

In her right hand, she held a small, dusty notebook and in her left, a pencil. She sat on a broken stone that had been part of her home's staircase and began to paint. She didn't draw the destruction as it is, but as she saw it: The house standing, the windows open, the white curtains moving in the breeze, her mother calling her from the kitchen, her little brother running down the corridor, and herself looking out from the balcony to draw the sea. She was engraving the lines of memory with her pen as if to say, "Perhaps flying can erase walls, but no one can erase what I draw." A young neighbor passed by, recognized her, and asked, "Are you still drawing despite everything?" She replied, without taking her eyes off the paper, "I don't draw despite everything... I draw because everything is over." Rania's drawings spread across the internet, and people began to see her destroyed house through her eyes. One painting was titled "The House as It Was," another: "The Room I Dreamed of," and "The Fig Tree That Didn't Last the Season." In a world where images proliferate without a soul, Rania's paintings were a window beyond the destruction: an invitation to see not only what was lost, but also what must return. Although she still sleeps in a room without a roof, each painting she creates is a new ceiling for a homeland that never died.

@assiraphales @ankle-beez @nonbinarymerbabe @igothurtdoingsafetydance @iphijaania @unadulteratedragon @legitimately @mysharona1987 @irhabiya @el-shab-hussein @wellwaterhysteria @appsa @unadulteratedragon @nabulsi @oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain @stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy

[skatehani]

In a bombed-out neighborhood of Gaza, Rania, a 26-year-old woman, stood staring at the pile of stones and twisted iron where her home had once stood. The wind was raising dust and whipping it across her cheeks, but she didn't shed a single tear. Her eyes were fixed, as if trying to recall something beyond the destruction: memories, laughter, the smell of bread in the morning, and the fragrant jasmine her mother had planted near the door.

Rania wasn't just a survivor. She was a painter. But her paintings no longer adorned the walls of galleries or small cafes. Now, she painted on the ruins of her homeland, trying to immortalize what could never be recovered.

In her right hand, she held a small, dusty notebook and in her left, a pencil. She sat on a broken stone that had been part of her home's staircase and began to paint. She didn't draw the destruction as it is, but as she saw it: The house standing, the windows open, the white curtains moving in the breeze, her mother calling her from the kitchen, her little brother running down the corridor, and herself looking out from the balcony to draw the sea. She was engraving the lines of memory with her pen as if to say, "Perhaps flying can erase walls, but no one can erase what I draw." A young neighbor passed by, recognized her, and asked, "Are you still drawing despite everything?" She replied, without taking her eyes off the paper, "I don't draw despite everything... I draw because everything is over." Rania's drawings spread across the internet, and people began to see her destroyed house through her eyes. One painting was titled "The House as It Was," another: "The Room I Dreamed of," and "The Fig Tree That Didn't Last the Season." In a world where images proliferate without a soul, Rania's paintings were a window beyond the destruction: an invitation to see not only what was lost, but also what must return. Although she still sleeps in a room without a roof, each painting she creates is a new ceiling for a homeland that never died.

@assiraphales @ankle-beez @nonbinarymerbabe @igothurtdoingsafetydance @iphijaania @unadulteratedragon @legitimately @mysharona1987 @irhabiya @el-shab-hussein @wellwaterhysteria @appsa @unadulteratedragon @nabulsi @oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain @stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy

[skatehani]

@assiraphales @ankle-beez @nonbinarymerbabe @igothurtdoingsafetydance @iphijaania @unadulteratedragon @legitimately @mysharona1987 @irhabiya @el-shab-hussein @wellwaterhysteria @appsa @unadulteratedragon @nabulsi @oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain @stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy

In a bombed-out neighborhood of Gaza, Rania, a 26-year-old woman, stood staring at the pile of stones and twisted iron where her home had once stood. The wind was raising dust and whipping it across her cheeks, but she didn't shed a single tear. Her eyes were fixed, as if trying to recall something beyond the destruction: memories, laughter, the smell of bread in the morning, and the fragrant jasmine her mother had planted near the door.

Rania wasn't just a survivor. She was a painter. But her paintings no longer adorned the walls of galleries or small cafes. Now, she painted on the ruins of her homeland, trying to immortalize what could never be recovered.

In her right hand, she held a small, dusty notebook and in her left, a pencil. She sat on a broken stone that had been part of her home's staircase and began to paint. She didn't draw the destruction as it is, but as she saw it: The house standing, the windows open, the white curtains moving in the breeze, her mother calling her from the kitchen, her little brother running down the corridor, and herself looking out from the balcony to draw the sea. She was engraving the lines of memory with her pen as if to say, "Perhaps flying can erase walls, but no one can erase what I draw." A young neighbor passed by, recognized her, and asked, "Are you still drawing despite everything?" She replied, without taking her eyes off the paper, "I don't draw despite everything... I draw because everything is over." Rania's drawings spread across the internet, and people began to see her destroyed house through her eyes. One painting was titled "The House as It Was," another: "The Room I Dreamed of," and "The Fig Tree That Didn't Last the Season." In a world where images proliferate without a soul, Rania's paintings were a window beyond the destruction: an invitation to see not only what was lost, but also what must return. Although she still sleeps in a room without a roof, each painting she creates is a new ceiling for a homeland that never died.

@assiraphales @ankle-beez @nonbinarymerbabe @igothurtdoingsafetydance @iphijaania @unadulteratedragon @legitimately @mysharona1987 @irhabiya @el-shab-hussein @wellwaterhysteria @appsa @unadulteratedragon @nabulsi @oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain @stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy

[skatehani]

In a bombed-out neighborhood of Gaza, Rania, a 26-year-old woman, stood staring at the pile of stones and twisted iron where her home had once stood. The wind was raising dust and whipping it across her cheeks, but she didn't shed a single tear. Her eyes were fixed, as if trying to recall something beyond the destruction: memories, laughter, the smell of bread in the morning, and the fragrant jasmine her mother had planted near the door.

Rania wasn't just a survivor. She was a painter. But her paintings no longer adorned the walls of galleries or small cafes. Now, she painted on the ruins of her homeland, trying to immortalize what could never be recovered.

In her right hand, she held a small, dusty notebook and in her left, a pencil. She sat on a broken stone that had been part of her home's staircase and began to paint. She didn't draw the destruction as it is, but as she saw it: The house standing, the windows open, the white curtains moving in the breeze, her mother calling her from the kitchen, her little brother running down the corridor, and herself looking out from the balcony to draw the sea. She was engraving the lines of memory with her pen as if to say, "Perhaps flying can erase walls, but no one can erase what I draw." A young neighbor passed by, recognized her, and asked, "Are you still drawing despite everything?" She replied, without taking her eyes off the paper, "I don't draw despite everything... I draw because everything is over." Rania's drawings spread across the internet, and people began to see her destroyed house through her eyes. One painting was titled "The House as It Was," another: "The Room I Dreamed of," and "The Fig Tree That Didn't Last the Season." In a world where images proliferate without a soul, Rania's paintings were a window beyond the destruction: an invitation to see not only what was lost, but also what must return. Although she still sleeps in a room without a roof, each painting she creates is a new ceiling for a homeland that never died.

@assiraphales @ankle-beez @nonbinarymerbabe @igothurtdoingsafetydance @iphijaania @unadulteratedragon @legitimately @mysharona1987 @irhabiya @el-shab-hussein @wellwaterhysteria @appsa @unadulteratedragon @nabulsi @oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain @stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy

[skatehani]

In a bombed-out neighborhood of Gaza, Rania, a 26-year-old woman, stood staring at the pile of stones and twisted iron where her home had once stood. The wind was raising dust and whipping it across her cheeks, but she didn't shed a single tear. Her eyes were fixed, as if trying to recall something beyond the destruction: memories, laughter, the smell of bread in the morning, and the fragrant jasmine her mother had planted near the door.

Rania wasn't just a survivor. She was a painter. But her paintings no longer adorned the walls of galleries or small cafes. Now, she painted on the ruins of her homeland, trying to immortalize what could never be recovered.

In her right hand, she held a small, dusty notebook and in her left, a pencil. She sat on a broken stone that had been part of her home's staircase and began to paint. She didn't draw the destruction as it is, but as she saw it: The house standing, the windows open, the white curtains moving in the breeze, her mother calling her from the kitchen, her little brother running down the corridor, and herself looking out from the balcony to draw the sea. She was engraving the lines of memory with her pen as if to say, "Perhaps flying can erase walls, but no one can erase what I draw." A young neighbor passed by, recognized her, and asked, "Are you still drawing despite everything?" She replied, without taking her eyes off the paper, "I don't draw despite everything... I draw because everything is over." Rania's drawings spread across the internet, and people began to see her destroyed house through her eyes. One painting was titled "The House as It Was," another: "The Room I Dreamed of," and "The Fig Tree That Didn't Last the Season." In a world where images proliferate without a soul, Rania's paintings were a window beyond the destruction: an invitation to see not only what was lost, but also what must return. Although she still sleeps in a room without a roof, each painting she creates is a new ceiling for a homeland that never died.

@assiraphales @ankle-beez @nonbinarymerbabe @igothurtdoingsafetydance @iphijaania @unadulteratedragon @legitimately @mysharona1987 @irhabiya @el-shab-hussein @wellwaterhysteria @appsa @unadulteratedragon @nabulsi @oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain @stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy

[skatehani]

In a bombed-out neighborhood of Gaza, Rania, a 26-year-old woman, stood staring at the pile of stones and twisted iron where her home had once stood. The wind was raising dust and whipping it across her cheeks, but she didn't shed a single tear. Her eyes were fixed, as if trying to recall something beyond the destruction: memories, laughter, the smell of bread in the morning, and the fragrant jasmine her mother had planted near the door.

Rania wasn't just a survivor. She was a painter. But her paintings no longer adorned the walls of galleries or small cafes. Now, she painted on the ruins of her homeland, trying to immortalize what could never be recovered.

In her right hand, she held a small, dusty notebook and in her left, a pencil. She sat on a broken stone that had been part of her home's staircase and began to paint. She didn't draw the destruction as it is, but as she saw it: The house standing, the windows open, the white curtains moving in the breeze, her mother calling her from the kitchen, her little brother running down the corridor, and herself looking out from the balcony to draw the sea. She was engraving the lines of memory with her pen as if to say, "Perhaps flying can erase walls, but no one can erase what I draw." A young neighbor passed by, recognized her, and asked, "Are you still drawing despite everything?" She replied, without taking her eyes off the paper, "I don't draw despite everything... I draw because everything is over." Rania's drawings spread across the internet, and people began to see her destroyed house through her eyes. One painting was titled "The House as It Was," another: "The Room I Dreamed of," and "The Fig Tree That Didn't Last the Season." In a world where images proliferate without a soul, Rania's paintings were a window beyond the destruction: an invitation to see not only what was lost, but also what must return. Although she still sleeps in a room without a roof, each painting she creates is a new ceiling for a homeland that never died.

@assiraphales @ankle-beez @nonbinarymerbabe @igothurtdoingsafetydance @iphijaania @unadulteratedragon @legitimately @mysharona1987 @irhabiya @el-shab-hussein @wellwaterhysteria @appsa @unadulteratedragon @nabulsi @oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain @stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy

[skatehani]

🚨🚩URGENT🚨🚩

✋️🛑Don't Skip, Take A Look✋️🛑

It's been a month since I started my vetted campaign and I've only gotten 250€ out of 27,000€.

I'm Kholoud from Gaza. I'm not a beggar, my only goal is to save the life of my daughter and my family, and live away from the war to rebuild our lives that were destroyed.

I lost my beloved brother and many of my relatives in an Israel Airstrike.

Our house was destroyed.

My daughter got sick more than once during the war due to the spread of epidemics and there's no treatment due to the lack of resources.

My husband and I lost our jobs and sources of income.

We are now living in a tent without the basic necessities of life.

Any help from you whether by donating or sharing will make a difference.

My campagin Vetted by ( @moayesh @el-shab-hussein @nabulsi @gaza-evacuation-funds )

[skatehani]

Hello, I am Rania Youssef Abu, twenty-five years old from Gaza from the north of it. I dedicate to you this drawing that I drew, which expresses freedom. I hope that you will help me build my future and save my family. The campaign of the next young Hussein has been documented. I hope you donate through the link. Thank you all

My campaign number in the link published by the young man Hussein is (319)

PayPal.me

[skatehani]

“Bad days can pass with your donations.

**“My name is Rania Youssef. I express the painful reality I live through my art and drawings. Art is my voice, my way of sharing my inner struggles with the world. At this stage, I am seeking the support of artists or donors who can help me spread my campaign and my art to reach as many people as possible.

My family’s daily expenses range between €150-200, a sum we struggle to meet every single day. My father is no longer with us—he was killed by the occupation forces during the siege of Al-Shifa Hospital, right in front of my younger siblings. Now, the responsibility of my family falls entirely on my shoulders.

I live in northern Gaza, where the situation is unbearable. You already know the brutalities committed by the occupation in this region. For political reasons, I cannot share every detail here, but I’m sure you understand.

If you are unable to donate to my campaign, you can still help by sharing it with your friends. Write a few words that capture their attention, and together, we can ensure that my family has a chance to survive.

@assiraphales @ankle-beez @nonbinarymerbabe @igothurtdoingsafetydance @iphijaania @unadulteratedragon @legitimately @mysharona1987 @irhabiya @el-shab-hussein @wellwaterhysteria @appsa @unadulteratedragon @nabulsi @oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain @stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy