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10 Things I had to learn by myself (my mother never taught me):

i. Blame the person who hurts you, not yourself. Never blame yourself for not being what they wanted or not being “good enough.” You are made with perfectly flawed traits, stitched together to be loved unconditionally.

ii. Not everyone you love will love you back and the people who do love you, you won’t always reciprocate the feelings. But that doesn’t make them or you a bad person. You can’t love everyone and not everyone will love you. I refuse to blame the people that can’t find it in their soul to give me what I give them. I don’t give to get back. I give because I want to and because I can.

iii. Don’t let one person tell you negative things about yourself. One opinion out of a million does not make you who you are. No one paints a masterpiece for you, you are the art piece. You make who you are. You are the artist.

iv. Don’t ever settle. People always feel safer with things that they are used to and comfortable with instead of seeking for the heart pounding feelings and moments that take their breaths away. I never want it to be easy; I want it to be hard to breathe and suffocating when I give something my all. I want to learn how to survive through that.

v. Learn how to say no. No, I do not want to dance with you. No, I do not want to kiss you. No, I do not want to date you. No, I do not want to do this. No, I do not want to do that. Because that does not make me happy and that does not make me feel comfortable, so no. And I don’t need to give you a reason nor do I need to make up an excuse to say “no.”

vi. There are different kinds of people. Don’t always catergorize people in groups because people are not meant to be labelled. Just because one person hurts you, does not mean the ones in the future will. Just because one person holds a knife doesn’t mean the next one will use it. There is good out there; there is good in the world and there is good in people. Not everyone is a monster. I strongly believe that majority of the population is good.

vii. Do not let the past prevent you from living in the future. Do not let the pain and hurt take over. Don’t close yourself up to others just because you have been broken before. Never allow the demons of yesterday to control the beauty that is to come in the future. Vow to never allow it to always be stormy for the sun does eventually shine down on all things beautiful. I am beautiful, and so are you.

viii. You can swim across the world for someone but they might not even step outside in the drizzle for you. Even if you hold the umbrella for them.

ix. Never give someone the power to rid you of yourself. Don’t ever fall out of your routine or lose who you are permanently. That is so important.

xi. Love yourself. Learn to love the birthmark on your face, the chipmunk cheeks, the thighs that jiggle when you walk, the nose you think is too flat, and your fingers that are too short. Learn to appreciate your almond shaped eyes, your skin color, the thin hair that doesn’t grow fast, the beauty mark above your lips, and the small gap between your teeth. Learn to love your sense of humor, your laughter, your emotions, your tendency to trust easily, and how happy you always are. Learn to love the way you love others deeply, how you sometimes fear being lonely, the way you enjoy walks alone, and the radiance in your soul. Learn to love yourself at 3AM when you cannot sleep and can only think of the skeletons hiding in your own closets and learn to love yourself at 3PM when you are cranky and unable to get out of bed. Learn to love yourself and come to terms with the fact that you are you, and that will never change. ”

—    Ming D. LiuA Story A Day #147 (via mingdliu)

(via rawkiss)

kropotkindersurprise:

Palestinian activists destroy power lines to illegal Israeli settlement near Ramallah in response to the massace in Gaza

My mom just told me that when she lived in Palestine there were turkish delights (sweets) wrapped in plastic and thrown in the wheat fields that she used to tend. She asked her mother if she could eat them and she told her that they'll kill her. Wallahi Israelis have no hearts.

Asked by Anonymous

standwithpalestine:

hoodjab:

Yup when I was there I was wondering who dropped all this candy everywhere and I saw that from the helicopters they were throwing buckets of candy everywhere. Poisonous candy. Killing animals, and children.

😦

standwithpalestine:

Invading Israeli terrorists committed a massacre this morning in the Shujaiyya neighborhood of Gaza City. At least 66 people were killed and the death toll is expected to rise as more bodies are uncovered.

Rescue teams only managed to evacuate 50 dead bodies from destroyed houses including 17 children, 14 women and four elderly people. More than 200 injured people were taken to al-Shifa Hospital. 

No word is said with more certainty when it comes to Israel: civilians, ambulances and hospitals are their targets

(Source: standwithpalestine)

redplebeian:

To call Israelis bloodthirst for revenge disproportionate is a gross understatement

remikanazi:

In 13 days, Israel has displaced 135,000 Palestinians, or 7.5% of the total population living in the Gaza Strip.

america-wakiewakie:

The boy who clung to the paramedic: the story behind the photo | Electronic Intifada 

This photo of a boy injured in an Israeli strike clinging to a medic at al-Shifa hospital went viral on the Internet.

Thursday night, 17 July, was the heaviest yet since Israel’s bombardment of Gaza began almost two weeks ago.

Dozens of people arrived to Gaza City’s al-Shifa hospital, where I was on shift that night. Some arrived torn to pieces, some beheaded, some disfigured beyond recognition, although still alive and breathing.

Seemingly indiscriminate artillery fire, a new element in Israel’s assault, had exacted a heavy toll on civilians.

The medical staff were lucky to get a break of less than half an hour. Some spent it watching the flares and bombs Israel was raining on the eastern neighborhoods of Gaza City, while others refueled with coffee or lay down for a few moments.

The relative calm did not last long. At around 3am, about eight or nine casualties arrived at the emergency room all at once. The last to come in were four siblings — two of them little children, both about three years old, with relatively superficial wounds. But it was clear they were pulled from under rubble, their faces and clothes covered in dirt and dust.

Then came the older of the four siblings, a boy in his early teens. His head and face were covered in blood and he was pressing a rag to his head to stanch the flow. But his focus was on something else: “Save my little brother!” he kept screaming.

The last to arrive was his brother, the child in the above photo that circulated around the world.

"I want my father!"

He was carried in by a paramedic and immediately rushed to the intensive care unit, which is right next to the ER. He clung to the paramedic, crying, “I want my father, bring me my father!” until he had to be forced to let go.

As I stood by, alert for orders, a group of four medical personnel immediately started to treat the boy. But he kept kicking and screaming and calling for his father.

His injuries were serious: a wound to the left side of his head which could indicate a skull fracture and a large piece of shrapnel in his neck. Another piece of shrapnel had penetrated his chest and a third had entered his abdomen. There were many smaller wounds all over his body.

Immediate measures had to be taken to save his life; he was sedated so the medics could get to work.

Upon carefully examining the wounds, it appeared that the explosion from the artillery round sent flying small pieces of stone from the walls of his house, and that some of his wounds were caused by these high-velocity projectiles.

He was extremely lucky: his neck injury was just an inch away from a major artery, his chest injury penetrated all the way through but failed to puncture his lung, and his abdomen was struck by shrapnel that just missed his bowel.

Luck

He had a stroke of luck denied to many that night.

The medics performed heroic measures in a remarkably short time, and the little boy’s life was saved.

Meanwhile in the emergency room, the elder brother was stitched up and the younger two siblings were washed and thoroughly examined for possible hidden injuries.

Somehow, despite the horror and the pain, they were sleeping. I don’t know how they did it, but I felt envious and grateful for the divine mercy that found its way to them.

Their brother with the most serious wounds will almost certainly survive, but with many scars and a difficult recovery period, both physical and psychological.

Too many casualties came in that night, too many for me to get this boy’s name, to know whether he was reunited with his father, or even what became of the rest of his family.

But there’s one thing that I know for sure, which is that hundreds of children just like him suffered similar or worse injuries, and up to the moment of this writing, nearly eighty children just like him have been killed as Israel’s merciless attack goes on.

Belal Dabour is a recently graduated doctor from Gaza, Palestine. He blogs at belalmd.wordpress.com.

(Photo Credit: Ezz al-Zanoun / APA images)

http://pax-arabica.tumblr.com/post/92338331925/a-wake-up-call-to-all-the-ahistorical-drones.

pax-arabica:

A wake up call to all the ahistorical drones defending Israel, touting the myth that it just wanted peace in 1948 but all the evil Arabs invaded:

The ethnic cleansing of Palestine began before the 1948 war.

There are three especially important massacres that the Zionist gangs carried out against…

redphilistine:

After a night in which Israel killed at least 60 Palestinians in the Shuja’iya neighborhood of Gaza City — the number will rise as more bodies are recovered — the Israeli army sends taunting text messages to Gaza’s residents. These monsters don’t even have the decency to use correct grammar. [link]