No One Is Fucking Talking About It But Another Black Man Was Killed By The Same Police Department That

No one is fucking talking about it but another black man was killed by the same police department that killed George Floyd they killed him 9 seconds after entering his apartment. No knock warrants are fucking bullshit. He was wrapped in his blanket he was innocent they had the wrong address there is body can cottage you cannot fucking deny this bullshit.

This is being hushed up and covered up and I cannot believe it took me until TODAY, SIX DAYS AFTER IT HAPPENED to find out about it.

Everyone should be talking about this shit.

All the BLM protests and here we are again. We cannot let a single one of these slide because that's how nothing changes and that's how innocent people are being killed at the hands of assholes who are happy to pull the trigger without hesitation. I'm so fucking upset right now and so should you be.

EDIT: THE ORIGINAL POST SAID NINE MINUTES I MEANT TO SAY NINE SECONDS

my former gifted kid playlist directory

autumn. frosted breaths, hot drinks, tweed blazers and knitted sweaters. coloured candles and stacks of classics in dimly lit rooms. library dates and early morning coffee runs. witches, pumpkins, brown jackets. the air is heavy but the coffee is warm. the leaves are falling and its time to fully embrace the dark academia aesthetic and go feral, as we do.

yearning. an almost constant state of being at this point. poetry, calloused fingers, white flowing shirts, candlelight, long eyelashes, twisting your ring on your finger, words dying in your throat every time you look at them, patterns traced on skin, a brush of fingers, fading memories, car conversations, sly nicknames, stolen kisses, broken promises.

introspection. coffee shops, foggy mornings, rainy evenings, city lights, flannel shirts, silver rings, dark colours, elliot smith, true crime podcasts, eye contact across a dim cafe, secondhand smoke, secondhand shirt, ink stains, faded jeans, chilly nights, messy notes, great music taste, probably gatekeeps, optimistic nihilist, feeling stuck, feeling like you’re meant for more than this.

feeling the big sad again. not really sure what brought it on, listening to sad songs to cope, rewatching comfort movies, nostalgia, self doubt, tracing a path on a map with your finger, leather watches, closed curtains, cancelled calls, staggered breaths, gasps for air, drying tears, midnight ice cream, watching the sunset, sighs of relief, hopeful smiles, things will get better.

overstimulated. too loud, too quiet, too many people, not enough. long walks,  art galleries and bookstores. tangled earphones and painted totebags. need to collect your thoughts, need an iced coffee. skipping every song because you can’t find the right one, your head’s a mess but your outfit is great today.

love. slow songs, dancing in the kitchen, fingers intertwined, cheap wine, good company, philosophical talks on the roof, knowing looks and wry grins, laughing together while making breakfast, oversized sweaters and cold hands, flowing dresses and loosened ties, candles and annotated paperbacks, dirty jokes and warm hugs, home.

sunlight. rays streaming through the windows, it’s saturday and you can sleep in, warm sheets, freshly brewed coffee, a cat jumping onto the counter top, syrup and pancakes, plants on the windowsill, arms around your waist in the kitchen, the radio is playing, soft tunes cutting through the morning, you’re awake and ready to face the day.

moonlight. hot chocolate, fairy lights, thinking aloud, cozy socks, the feel of cotton and the smell of rain, making playlists and rereading childhood classics, cough percy jackson cough, indie folk music, the colour dark green, making tea, listening to traffic, worn-in sweatshirts and vines on the wall, lamps, late night snacks, doing your best.

iridescence. the feeling you get leaving a movie theatre. neon lights, midnight strolls, bus rides home, vivid pink clouds, blueberry slushies, shitty alcohol, leather jackets, the colour purple, a24 films, eyes closed against a car window, bubble gum, sarcasm, graffiti, disassociating at frat parties, retro diners at 2am, a secret romantic, tired, can’t wait to see the world.

arson. fiery eyes and deep purple eyeliner, kind of want to be left alone, kind of want to rule the world, smashing plates in abandoned houses, smudged mascara, 4am mcdonalds, stop signs, screaming lyrics from a rooftop, combat boots, chipped black nail polish, head banging and big smiles, conspiratorial winks and high fives, optimism and anarchy.

let’s get high. self explanatory.

dude that little kid is hardcore goth. soundtrack from when we were 14. sorry.

the sound of rain.

yeah id love to tell the sturniolo triplets how much comfort they bring to me but how do i explain that it's because i have no social life and NOT look like a loser to them

Help a Jewish Community Buy Back Its Own Damn Synagogue!

Firsty, thank you for reading this, and I hope you’ll get through it and give us the honor of a donation, firstly, and a reblog, secondly. Maybe even a note to any friends you have outside of tumblr! 

If you don’t care about the history, skip to the bold at the end! 

This is Temple Emanu-El, in Helena, Montana. At the time it was built, it was the only synagogue between Minneapolis, Minnesota, and Portland, Oregon. It was built with the hard work of the Jewish community that had come west to seek their fortune and stability, having heard that people were more willing to do business with Jews in the West, a place where social strictures were slightly relaxed. This turned out to be true, and the community thrived. 

This picture resolves small on tumblr, but you can see the love and care they put into it. It’s modeled after the great synagogues of Europe, with heavy stonework, onion domes, and intricate stained glass. The president of the congregation cried at its opening and dedication. 

As the years went on, the West became more settled, and for a series of socio-political reasons of which my History of the American West major ass is well aware but are ultimately unimportant to the issue at hand, Jewish communities left much of the interior west for metropolitan areas. By the 1930s, the Jewish community was so small that they could not justify the large and lavish worship center. 

They sold it to the city for one dollar. 

The promise made to them was that it would be used for the public good. The state readied the former temple for its new function as offices for Social and Rehabilitation Services, sandblasting of the Hebrew inscription, “Gate to the Eternal,” above the entry and removing the star-studded, painted domes.. The copper was stripped from the building and likely reused to re-clad the State Capitol’s dome at about the same time. 

That lasted all of 40 years, when the State of Montana decided to let it sit idle and decay, so they could justify the sale of the building, sold for a pittance to the public good, to the Helena Catholic Diocese for $83,000  (this is an opinion of mine, though it is not an uneducated one, and I do firmly believe it. I do not, however, represent that they allowed it to fall into disrepair to justify the sale as objective fact.) 

This is the building now

In a twist of fate, the diocese can no longer afford to maintain the building. They are selling it, and the Jewish community of Helena is trying to buy it. 

The Montana Jewish Project is being far far far nicer and more politic about this than I would be, but in fairness, they actually how to get Nice Goyim to donate, and I don’t, so. The Diocese is spinning this as selling the building for much less than its worth, which may be true, but if you bought it for $83,000, that would be $280,000 now. 

They are selling it for $925,000. And we have to have 70% of the purchase price by February 28th. Easy terms, right? 

Here’s where you come in! If the idea of Montana’s Jews getting back the building that was sold to the Diocese in spite of the original agreement appeals to you, you can and should donate to their capital campaign. They even have an option for your donation where if we don’t get Emanu-El back, your money will be returned to you instead of being used for other MJP protects and repairs. 

This place won’t just be used for the Jewish community, though I think that would be enough. They want it to be used as a museum and center for the community as well, to teach about Jewish life in Montana, with Jewish cooking classes, and social programs, and teaching non-Jews about Jewish customs and culture. 

I just want to get the cross off the top.

Donate here

poet 🫀

whimsical, sincere, moody, and unrealisingly charming. to see the world in possibilities and potential and know and navigate it based on deeply understood tenets of truth, that is your gift. remember it's okay to bite back, and feel hunger, too.

here’s a quiz i made: allow me to assign you a beloved character trope.

7 results: femme fatale, queen, prophet, poet, witch, gentleman thief, and otherworldly spirit in human form. enjoy ✩