"Two frames for every Iranian.
The first frame depicts the courageous daughters who did not hesitate to raise their voices for the freedom of their people and sacrificed their lives, despite their love for life.
The second frame is filled with opportunists who each have their own way of climbing the ladder to more power and wealth.
The second frame are the murderers of the first frame.
Participating in the elections means betrayal. It means there is no other way but to overthrow this regime. Among us, there is a sea of blood.

#FreeIran #NoVote #BoycottFakeElections #StayHomeOnJuly17th"

⚡️@bardegi57

In this land, even the butchers are shedding tears. The price of meat has soared to eight hundred and nine hundred thousand Tomans! A friend asked, "Have you ever seen a butcher cry?" I replied, "No, I haven't." He laughed bitterly and said, "Today I went to the local butcher to buy some meat and saw tears streaming down the butcher's face as he worked behind his counter!" Curious, I asked, "Is that old Job the butcher at the end of our street?" He confirmed, "Yes. He's gotten really old. I had never seen him cry before. Tears were pooling in his eyes, and he said to me, 'Today as I ushered the customers out, I noticed a woman holding tightly to her chador and hurrying past my shop front without looking inside.' When all the customers had left, she entered hesitantly and with a sense of shame. The woman was relatively young. I knew her husband had been imprisoned for addiction or some unknown reason a few months ago. She was left behind with two small children. With tears in her eyes, she asked, 'Mr. Job, could you buy this meat from me?' She unwrapped a piece of meat from under her chador, placed it on the counter, and it seemed as if lightning had struck me involuntarily. I asked why? She replied, 'This is meat from a vow. They brought it home today. Please take it and give me the money so I can buy bread for the children.' I had never felt so desolate and ashamed in all my years. I didn't know what to do. I said, 'Take your meat back. How much is a loaf of bread?' She handed me the meat, and I felt it was as if I was asking for charity from you. She said, 'I didn't come here begging from you to buy this meat!' She tried to return it! I said, 'Give it to me.' I took it and calculated it was four hundred grams. I handed her the money. I asked her, 'What will you do tomorrow?' She looked at me bitterly and said, 'This money will last a week for bread until then. God is merciful. May God bless your soul.' She left calmly out the door. It was the same woman who walked in just before you. I didn't see her leave! The poor are never seen. I asked, 'Ahmad, did you ever imagine such a day?' I couldn't say anything. My heart is too pained to speak. The meat from the vow still sits on the scales; I can't bear to look at it. It's as if two children are sitting on the scale. A pain twists in my heart. I don't buy any meat, heartbroken, I leave. What has happened to this land, where even the butchers are shedding tears?

*Why are the butchers crying?* 😞😞

#FreeIran


⚡️@bardegi57