The whole world’s screaming Iran’s name.

Oh my God, I love my people so much.

Freedom is on the way.

I lowkey think we won the lottery being born into a nation this brave and cultured.

My biggest honor?
Bro, I’m Iranian.

I feel like I don’t even deserve to be alive when so many brave people who actually wanted to live are six feet under.

I can’t believe it’s already been forty days since you died. I’m still in shock from all the horrific things that happened. I still can’t process a mother dancing over her child’s grave. I’m still seeing new names and new faces. Your death will never, ever become normal to us.

Happy birthday to Ali Nouri, child of Iran, who gave his soul to his homeland. Your name lives on, forever in our hearts.

I know I’m supposed to stay hopeful, but I’m honestly just so tired.

Dear Sepehr,
All of Iran wept beside your father, calling your name. The emptiness you left is heavy and silent. You are not only a boxing champion, but a hero to all of Iran. We will never forget the cruel and unjust way you were taken from us.

“دیگه زندگیم تموم شد. کی گفته؟ دیگه آخه مادرم مرده. با یک تیر، یک گلوله کل زندگیم پاشید به هم. سه نفر بودیم یکیمون کم شد، یکی کم شد دیگه کلا زندگی ندارم. عاشق پلیسا بودم دوست داشتم پلیس شم، اینم شد آخر اینکه پلیس نشم. پلیسا هم زدن مادرمو کشتن.
این بود جواب من؟ بخاطر ده سال زندگی من به دنیا اومدم؟ کلا انقدر؟؟ مگه من چقدر سن دارم؟ ده سال فقط؟ ده سال میتونستم با مامانم باشم بقیش تو زندان زندگی بمونم .”
ایلیا فرزند ده ساله جاویدنام افسانه مهدی نژاد.

I hate that the golden time of my life is slipping away while I’m busy stressing about war and people dying and stuff.

I hate how some people normalize these things like they’re no big deal.

My motivation to stay alive? The war.