It's Ed. 20. Black. Queer. Political Science & Sociology @ BGSU.
He/Him/His, They/Them/Their

 

asynagogueaday:

Cleveland, Ohio, First M.E. Church, Church of St. Thomas Aquinas, and the Jewish Temple
For more images, visit the William A. Rosenthall Postcards and Prints & Photographs collections in the Lowcountry Digital Library. Click here for more information on Rosenthall.
A Synagogue A Day is also on Twitter.

asynagogueaday:

Cleveland, Ohio, First M.E. Church, Church of St. Thomas Aquinas, and the Jewish Temple

For more images, visit the William A. Rosenthall Postcards and Prints & Photographs collections in the Lowcountry Digital Library. Click here for more information on Rosenthall.

A Synagogue A Day is also on Twitter.

Finding it oddly difficult to be productive w/ a little more than 2 weeks until I move back in…
I could start packing but still…. 2 weeks though :P

Guess I’ll start on getting some things organized at least.

yungchub:

I stopped listening 2 her after pon^2 wei^3
what disappointment tbh

yungchub:

I stopped listening 2 her after pon^2 wei^3

what disappointment tbh

(Source: iceheal)

fallen-inspiration:

Take a break from the fandoms and take a moment to read this:

Farah Baker, a 16 year old teen living in the Gaza Strip, has been tweeting and posting on social media sites of the various indiscriminant bombings being committed by Israeli forces, most recently very violent shelling near Al-Shifa hospital by her.

In her countless tweets and numerous posts on both Twitter and Instagram, she documents live strikes using photos and videos to show her followers the severity of the situation her and thousands like her are going through every day. @farah_gazan has gone viral, spiking from 21k to 76k followers on twitter in a span of 24 hours and climbing to 300+ in a matter of hours on Instagram.

Personally, I felt like I was reading something off the diary of Anne Frank. And who knows? Our children might be reading this and asking us why we didn’t stop her from dying just like we did to our grandparents.

The tweets are heartbreaking and the videos are breathtaking. She needs your support. Let her know you stand by her. Follow her on twitter and Instagram and maybe somehow you can change history.

He is taking a course on Marxist ideology.
He says, “The only real solution is to smash the system and start again.”
His thumb is caressing the most bourgeois copy of the communist manifesto that I have ever seen,
He bought it at Barnes and Noble for twenty-nine U.S. American dollars and ninety-nine cents,
Its hard cover shows a dark man with a scarved face
Waving a gigantic red flag against a fictional smoky background.
The matte finish is fucking gorgeous.
He wants to be congratulated for paying Harvard sixty thousand dollars
To teach him that the system is unfair.
He pulls his iPhone from his imported Marino wool jacket, and leaves.

What people can’t possibly tell from the footage on TV
Is that the water cannon feels like getting whipped with a burning switch.
Where I come from, they fill it with sewer water and hope that they get you in the face with your mouth open
So that the hepatitis will keep you in bed for the next protest.
What you can’t tell from Harvard square,
Is that when the tear gas bursts from nowhere to everywhere all at once,
It scrapes your insides like barbed wire, sawing at your lungs.
Tear gas is such a benign term for it,
If you have never breathed it in you would think it was a nostalgic experience.
What you can’t learn at Barnes and Noble,
Is that when they rush you, survival is to run,
I am never as fast as when the police are chasing me.
I know what happens to women in the holding cells down there and yet…
We still do it.

I inherited my communist manifesto,
It has no cover—
Because my mother ripped it off when she hid it in the dust jacket of “Don Quixote”
The day before the soldiers destroyed her apartment,
Looking for subversive propaganda.
She burned the cover, could not bring herself to burn the pages,
Hoped to God the soldiers couldn’t read,
They never found it.
So she was not killed for it, but her body bore the scars of the torture chamber,
For wanting her children to have a better life than she did,
Don’t talk to me about revolution.

I know what the price of smashing the system really is, my people already tried that.
The price of uprise is paid in blood,
And not Harvard blood.
The blood that ran through the streets of Santiago,
The blood thrown alive from Argentine helicopters into the Atlantic.

It is easy to say “revolution” from the comfort of a New England library.

It is easy to offer flesh to the cause,
When it is not yours to give.

Catalina Ferro, “Manifesto”   (via mellonball)

(Source: sincerely-the-end)

hersheyhipster:

Support our social change agents!

Please help #BackingBiko as they continue #redefiningrealness on the #Mrsbikoworldtour! 

http://www.gofundme.com/backingbiko

hersheyhipster:

Support our social change agents!

Please help #BackingBiko as they continue #redefiningrealness on the #Mrsbikoworldtour!

http://www.gofundme.com/backingbiko

suspiciousmilk:

does anyone want to be my virtual sugardaddy and buy me things online for literally nothing in return???