I am Philip, a disabled man living in poverty. My body is deteriorating. My hands hurt. My brain is foggy. I stumble, I drop things, I forget how to spell words a child could write. I live in constant pain. I sleep on a broken bed. I eat once a day—if I eat at all. I go hungry 1–2 weeks every month. I haven’t had a real meal in years.
I am not okay. I am not surviving. I am begging.
Poverty is expensive. Disability is exhausting. Hunger is violent. The world is indifferent. I cry out for help and the silence is deafening. I need $1,500 a month just to live. I need $25,000 to climb out of the pit. I need $5 million to build a life where I can help others like me.
I am not asking for luxury. I am asking for dignity. For food. For rest. For clothes that don’t fall apart. For a bed that doesn’t hurt me. For a moment of peace. For a chance to breathe.
If you’ve ever wondered what despair looks like, this is it. If you’ve ever wanted to make a real difference, this is your chance.
Please help. Every dollar matters. Every share matters. Every act of compassion matters.
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