The attempt to cover up the mass murder at Babyn Yar means that only about one in 10 of the many thousands of people who died there have been identified. But much of what we do know was gathered by journalists who visited the site when Kyiv returned to Russian control in 1943. They interviewed three Russian prisoners of war who had survived the massacre, and they toured the site, finding bones and shoes and other remnants of the dead.
Bill Downs, who reported on the massacre for Newsweek, wrote to his parents in 1944: “Unless it can be brought home as to what the Germans have done in Europe – the cruelty and ruthlessness and bestial killings and emasculations and dismemberment that has gone on – well, I’m afraid that we’ll be too soft on them.”
https://www.theguardian.com/world/2022/oct/20/ukraine-true-detectives-investigators-closing-in-on-russian-war-crimes
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🌟 Calling ALL Compassionate Souls! 🌟
PLEASE READ CAREFULLY
In the heart of my local community lies a sanctuary of hope. A haven where lives are transformed and futures are rebuilt. My dear friend's family home, which has been a beacon of kindness and generosity for many (myself included), is in jeopardy. As in it could be lost FOREVER in 1 week! For good! Countless souls of every background have found solace within its walls and were guided back to stability and success. Now it all faces an uncertain fate... unless, we come together to make a difference!
This is not just about saving a house; it's about preserving a legacy of compassion and support. Every dollar donated, every share, every act of kindness WILL make a monumental difference.
We positivity bloggers/tumblrinas know not to underestimate the power of a supportive community!! 😤 We have made literal fucking miracles happen in the past through our unwavering camaraderie and solidarity. I know we can do it again, collectively. Let's band together, once again, virtual hand in virtual hand, to ensure that this sanctuary of hope continues to shine brightly for those in need. Please! People deserve safe spaces... that aren't just virtual.
Please lend your support and spread the word, and together we can make a difference and ensure that this sacred space remains for generations to come.
Mr. Leonard is a talented man. He is a proud native and the modest master of a few trades. He is a carpenter, a painter, a jeweler, an arborist, a plumber and more... He never charges anybody for his work and, you know, if he did- which he wouldn't, then his contributions to local and overarching communities would have earned him a mansion by now. Seriously, maybe two.
He built this home alongside his grandads. His handprints are on the ceiling still. It's a token of his love and the labor he's willing to put into this home. He is a father, a survivor of many things. When his babygirl passed, he gave all her stuffed animals away to people who needed them. He's the kind of man who feeds his dog and neighbor before his skinny self. This man is such a light and I cry so hard typing this, realizing that nobody rly supports him. He doesn't get the support he deserves. He starves to keep the lights on for everybody here and, only if he's lucky, a friend might bring him fast food so that he has more than cereal to work on. Many people take full advantage of a generous soul like his. He knows this, accepts it and that never stops him from doing what's right and needs to be done. He has saved my life and making this post is the least I could do. He's a grown ass adult but even grown ass adults (like me and all my friends still here) need help along the way.
The oldest resident here is a senior transient with no family and no place to go. Just like Mr. Leonard. And I've met young men as young as 18 with no families come to his home for much needed guidance, for protection from the streets. Mr. Leonard has empowered women to escape abusive marriages through the process of divorce. He helped me escape my tormentors. He has my admiration and respect. He has my support.
Please help my friend. I have known him for a few years now, talking nearly daily, minus the times I go on hiatus. Now he's desperately reaching out for our support. Please don't ignore him. He is the type who never asks for anything. Even when he needs to. I... don't even think he's asking for himself... He's probably asking for all the people that he knows depend on this home to still exist. I rly want him to be able to exist in this home for the rest of his life. To him it's still "grandma's home" but to me it is truly all his. He's the one taking care of it. Please believe me, he is worth the time it took for you to read up to this point.
He is human. Worthy of unconditional compassion, respect and support... worthy of a home- like you and I. And he's happily willing to share his gifts with those who need it, which makes him a hero in this community. 🏡💖
ANYTHING HELPS. REBLOG + DONATE.
SPREAD THIS ACROSS PLATFORMS LIKE WILDFIRE. PLEASE.
IT'S FOR A VERY SPECIAL AND VERY IMPORTANT FRIEND! 🫂💕 PLEASE SHOW YOUR SUPPORT. I AM BEGGING PEOPLE TO CARE. MR. LEONARD NEEDS HUMANITY BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.
THANK YOU. STAY SAFE, AND IF YOU CAN'T, BE CAREFUL 🫂
or as Mr. Leonard would always say: "Whatever you do today, do it well. Don't forget to eat today. You're awesome, stay awesome."
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atwow hot take:
if jake had said his "son for a son" shit out loud and spider had heard him, he would have been so beyond pissed, he would be seeing red.
spider loved his little siblings so much, neteyam included, even after they grew apart. he loved them like they were his own blood and protected them like they were too (we see a lot more of them together in the comics, where spider is the big brother without a doubt). neteyam's death most certainly rocked him hard, even if he hasn't really been able to show it (how could he? he's already going through all the shit with his dad and the RDA and their nonsense, he can't grieve around neytiri, he's just so tired after it all. he doesn't have the room or the energy to grieve yet)
so if jake had the audacity to say that to/around spider not even a few hours after he watched his little brother get shot after coming to save him, after he stared at the bullet hole in his back, after he watched him take his last breaths, after he watched the light leave his eyes, after he watched his little brother die for him; if he said that while his little brother's body lay in a pool of his own blood not even ten feet away, not even cold yet, blood still clinging to his chest, the scent of it still filling the air: he would have lost his shit.
because the disrespect for his brother is wild.
jake was an active player in spider's neglect and abuse for the last 16 years, he let it happen, he helped it happen. he tried to send spider with the humans, tried to take him away from his siblings, from the forests, from eywa to live with his foster family that didn't love him (not to mention Nash was an asswipe of epic proportions) and the RDA of all people. he had referred to spider as a stray animal since he was little. he was the reason spiders life was hell.
and after all that, years and years of putting him in shit positions and allowing him to suffer the fate of being forever unloved and uncared for (by an adult authority figure, cause I love the kids, but they don't make up for the gap left by a parent), this is what it took for jake to care about him? his little brother had to die in front of him first? he had to be traded out to fill the space of a corpse, to fill in the gap left by his little brother's death?
in canon, spider was in deep in shock with nothing to break him from it, he wasn't in the place to really think about any of it, and I'm sure we're gonna see this anger in the coming movies, but if jake had said it out loud, that would have been enough to snap spider right out of it, and he would have given jake a piece of his mind, I just know it.
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hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?
hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].
but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.
it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.
and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.
the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.
an emptiness, like you said.
but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.
you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.
he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.
but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.
how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.
the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.
think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.
i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.
but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one.
wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.
as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛
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