LOVE
the factory
Loving the Community, Loving others. Creating new connections. Helping the LGBTQIA communities and artists. Loving others #love #community
Love and art. Community. Speaking and artistry
Loving others. JOY
Bringing people together for Networking
-anti racism , anti distressed community, pro bring flourishing community
#anti depression and anxiety
Revelation 20:7-10
Story of helping end trafficking. Awareness, #endchildtrafficking . LOVE Helping others. Creating a better world. Story of Esser. We helped passed bills together , to help create a safer world for the youth. Taking away loop holes to make it easier for traffickers to go behind bars . Also , we created comic books to help empower the kids. Teaching them the dangers to helping end child trafficking. Loving others. How to care for themselves. Protecting themselves. Esser and I split up. The National Anti Trafficking Number is
1-888-373-7888
Helping the Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen assist the community and feed the poor, hungry, homeless in NYC and beyond. Serving over 1000 people a day. Helping bring awareness to serving others | loving the community, loving others.
Jesus Christ Son of God died for our sins, was buried, was raised on the third day
1 Corinthians 15:3-4
Helping the Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen assist the community and feed the poor, hungry, homeless in NYC and beyond. Serving over 1000 people a day. Helping bring awareness to serving others | loving the community
Tonya’s story
“Beyond comprehension: the void in my cranium and the afflictions on my body to smother. There is apparent longing: conscience gropes for freedom only to surrender to the worth of its sale. This cage is involuntary subjugation.“
I used to frequent Cedar Point in Ohio and thoroughly enjoyed the double twisting impulse coaster at a pretty tender age, not anticipating, even in my wildest fantasies, my life becoming one. This is Tonya writing to her inner child imploring for forgiveness, humanness following the 9/11 attacks, engulfing mankind in mere seconds.
“Felt like my breath was in clutches, my voice was oppressed, my grief was illegitimate- I was treated more like a number, and less like a person. There is no hope for resurrection: the social structures I hail from are very rigid and the trauma is recurrent. I get commercialized, measured, weighed, labeled everyday, and because of my inability to resist my oppressor, I lose everyday. There is no hope, and light, but there is certainty in knowing that I am not alone. It is never my choice.”
“Silence in this enslavement Like a movie
Can’t feel my body
They call it my duty
Nights I can't sleep
when I want to die
Don't expect you to listen
It comes with a goodbye
An everyday story
Cause there is no glory
No hope, no light
They say I wasn’t born to fly
And sadly, it was never my choice”
~Talking to her felt like talking to her heart, and her inner child. She is not less, but most certainly more of a person. My dream is to be like her at such a young age. Though she expressed lack of hope, there is most certainly hope for the end of exploitation.”
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