I’m a beautiful woman named Palestine. I’m divorced and I have a daughter named revolution. I was born in 1948. My father abandoned me, his name’s Arab. I’ve been an orphan ever since. I have 21 sisters, yet none of them visit me nor do they acknowledge me. One of them has been dying since the year of 2011 and still is, my beloved Syria. My eldest brother died in 2003, his name’s Iraq. See, my ambitions are small: I want to be liberated. The reason why none of my sisters visit me is because they’re afraid of my mother’s husband named America.
Unknown (via thenorthafricanmiddleeastern)
August 23rd, 2014 ∞ 798 notes
Anonymous said: 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.
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.
August 21st, 2014 ∞ 1,908 notes
لا ترى العين عيبا.. اذا أحب القلب قلبا
August 21st, 2014 ∞ 13,269 notes