Reward time

@genericbeing

@genericbeing 

At the corner of the neighborhood was an alley, perpetually buried under heaps of garbage. Children played there without a care, oblivious to shame or awareness. Throwing dirt at each other, wandering around in tattered clothes, and toying with broken bottles on the street were their daily rituals. On the edge of the alley stood a tiny shack, where Ayesha would sit, stitching her worn-out shawl. Like her life, the shawl bore witness to the passage of time and the scars it left behind.

The neighborhood called her "The Garbage Woman." But was she truly garbage? No, she was merely a part of an alley drowning in filth. Day and night, she roamed from street to street, collecting trash, selling plastic scraps, and securing enough for two meager meals. Whenever she sought help, the response was always the same: "You’re the one making this alley dirty!" Yet no one ever asked where she had come from, who had given her this life, or who had left the marks on her body and soul. To them, she was merely a symbol of filth, as if her existence itself were an extension of the alley’s grime.

Why do we so easily label someone without understanding their story? Can a person’s environment determine their worth?

One day, municipal officers arrived to clean the alley. "The alley will finally be clean!" the residents rejoiced. "There will be no more filth here," they said, as if the garbage’s removal would also erase Ayesha’s existence. The cleaning began, and among the piles of trash, Ayesha’s tiny shack was demolished, mistaken as part of the debris. At that moment, Ayesha’s face reflected a profound realization — the stark truth of her life laid bare.

Ayesha said nothing. She sat silently by the ruins of her shack, as if she were a lifeless body lying beside an open grave, awaiting burial. The neighborhood children were now gleeful; the alley had been cleaned, and people remarked with pride, "Look how beautiful the alley is now, so clean and pristine!"

But Ayesha?

In the cleansing of the alley, Ayesha’s existence had been buried.

What defines the beauty of a place — the absence of filth, or the presence of humanity? When we remove the "unwanted," do we cleanse society, or do we destroy its very soul?

If Ayesha’s shack was garbage, what was her life? If the alley is clean now, does that mean its conscience is too?

@genericbeing

No fair, my worm crawled away!

ꗟȃກƫȃ îຮ Ͼõṁîກɡ💫

*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ 

@genericbeing

This has to be the funniest post that I have seen on here 

lesgoooo

"Slimy, yet satisfying!"
Timon, The Lion King movie



@genericbeing

I feel very alone, sad, empty. Pls send me reward worm so I know someone think of me n gives me something baxk🥺💧 I guess I’m undervalued in life à lot

Love this!

@genericbeing a worm? for me😦