Inside the brand-new museum
there’s an old synagogue.
Inside the synagogue
is me.
Inside me
my heart.
Inside my heart
a museum.
Inside the museum
a synagogue,
inside it
inside me
my heart,
inside my heart
a museum
Yehuda Amichai, from “Poem Without an End,” translated by Chana Bloch (via aubade)
gonna use my blog as a blog so feel free to ignore this


When I first stepped on Israeli soil, I thought I knew what the conflict was like and who was right and wrong. I am now nearing the end of my trip and now I’m feeling confused and conflicted. Hearing the riots in Jerusalem calling for death to both Arabs and Jews breaks my heart, and seeing the pure hate and racism on both sides frustrates me to no end. 

What the media wants to make people believe is that the conflict is black and white; that you’re either pro human rights or pro oppression, pro Zionism or pro Hamas. What I have learned in the past three months is that it’s incredibly ambiguous, because every person has a story.

We need to stop attacking each other for their beliefs and respect people, regardless if they’re Pro Israel or Pro Palestinian, and realize that these labels are not mutually exclusive. We need to remember that these are real people living here and that politics aren’t all what Israel is. We need to accept that both Jews and Arabs have thousands of years of history in this land and that we all have claims and connections to Israel. We need empathy for both sides, and the strength to keep striving for peace. We need to learn to coexist with each other, no matter how long or hard it seems.

I have faith that one day there will be peace. It may not happen in my lifetime, but it will someday. 

שָׁלוֹם עֲלֵיכֶם

good morning jerusalem ☀️ (at Zion Gate)

all about those double exposures ☁️ (at Eilat)


easily the loveliest body of water i’ve ever swam in 🌊 (at The Red Sea)

I am telling you now because I want you to stop telling girls and women with disabilities that we’re broken, that we need prayers, that we’re burdens, that it’s okay if someone hurts us because “they’re probably just stressed” from having to “deal” with us, or that we’re pretty “for a girl in a wheelchair.”

Stop Telling Me That I’m Pretty for a Girl in a Wheelchair: How Your Words Contribute to Violence Against Women with Disabilities

very powerful. please read the entire essay. tw for abuse and assault against women with disabilities. 

(via disabilityhistory)

The Mountain Goats - Wild Sage

and some days I don’t miss my family
and some days I do
some days I think I’d feel better if I tried harder
most days I know it’s not true

i haven’t really been on tumblr for a while bc israel but look at my new face hole!!!