Shared by Unfiltered Feels on Facebook four days ago:
When a mother loses a baby, their DNA doesn’t just disappear.
It lives inside of her.
Little fragments of them stay
woven into her blood, her bones, her very being.
She carries them forever, even when the world assumes she’s “moved on.”

Science calls it microchimerism.
But mothers call it love that never left.
Her baby’s cells cross into her body and stay there for a lifetime.
A physical reminder that they were real, they existed, they mattered.

So even when her arms are empty, she is never truly without them.
Their presence lingers in her body, her heartbeat, her cells.
She doesn’t just remember them…
she holds them, every single day, in ways no one can see.

Motherhood doesn’t end with loss.
It lives on in her body.
It lives on in her soul.
It lives on in the love that never had the chance to grow old.

She carries her baby forever.
Not just in her heart.
But in every part of who she is.

The current state of the world:

You cannot tell me that things are not pre-planned any more, the current state of the world is very dire, freedoms being stripped, control over money, what people say, what people can do, the stripping away of privacy, and finally mass-immagration in aims of reducing once fine nations to law less hell holes.

I used to believe there is stupidity not malice, now I see malice and careful design from world governments. Almost as is if they are acting from the same playbook. The end result a noose around everyone's necks.

Its about time these online forums answered for their turning a blind eye routines its just really sad it had to come to Charlie's passing to have this discussion


https://www.reuters.com/world/us/us-house-panel-asks-online-forum-ceos-testify-after-charlie-kirk-assassination-2025-09-17/

Stop chasing the World

Wanna stop breaking down? Stop obsessing so deeply with the world around. Ur crying cause you can't help but barely fucking saved urself?
Running urself to an early grave won't solve shit but double it and give it to the next person

It seems a shadow of misfortune follows me. I've come to expect it: a fleeting moment of light is always chased away by a familiar storm, pulling me back under with brutal force.

What truly unnerves me is the silence within. The emotional echo of these disasters has faded to nothing. I am a dry well—events that should summon a flood of tears now barely register. Is this resilience, or is it erosion? My psyche, to save itself, seems to have severed the wires, leaving me feeling like an spectator in my own tragicomedy, muttering, 'This can't be real.'

I observe my life as through a thick, silent pane of glass. The impact is muted, the meaning distant. I am a curious stranger to my own apathy, asking, 'What happens when you simply have nothing left to feel?'

Is this emptiness making me stronger, or is it the void before the collapse? I built these walls stone by stone for protection, but now they encircle me. They keep the world's anguish out. The question is no longer about weathering the storm, but whether I am fortified within a sanctuary, or entombed within a cell of my own making.

The world as we know it is a complete clusterfuck. Even though I have little hope left for mankind, I still think there's a solution to all of our self-inflicted misery.