Once again,
I couldn’t hold back my tears.

Nearly a thousand lives
taken in just a few hours.

A thousand.
Let that sink in.

Imagine
your entire family
lying in pools of blood
on the floor of your living room.

Imagine walking through streets
where body parts decorate the pavement,
not by accident,
but by design.

Imagine wrapping your baby in white,
not for warmth,
but for burial.

Imagine your children,
your partner,
beaten, broken,
violated beyond words.

Imagine…
and PLEASE stay there.

Just a little longer…

Don’t scroll away,
don’t turn the page in your mind.
We’ve learned to escape with a swipe,
to numb with a click,
to confuse distance with safety.

But this
this is not a dream
or a memory
or a scene from a horror film.

This is now.
This is real.
This is someone’s everyday.

Now multiply that pain
by a thousand.

A thousand families.
A thousand goodbyes.
A thousand rooms full of blood,
and silence.

Do you feel it?
Even for a moment?
Even just a flicker of what they carry?
Now… does it ache?

Because just because it’s far,
doesn’t mean it’s not true.
Just because it’s not your street,
your child,
your sky filled with drones
doesn’t mean it couldn’t be.

Safety is not promised.
Borders are not armor.

So what makes us believe
we are immune
to the suffering of others?

It is real.
It is happening.
And it could be any of us.

I can’t hold back my tears.
Because even with all the imagination in the world,
even with my empathy stretched to its fullest capacity
the reality faced by Palestinians
goes beyond my worst nightmares.

I find myself at a loss for words,
trying to express what should be obvious:
That every single human being deserves safety.
That children should be protected from horror,
from war,
from trauma.

And yet,
saying this feels like asking for too much.

I feel torn.
I feel as if I am loosing my mind

How is this being normalized?
How have we, as a global collective,
come to accept this as just another news cycle?

How can a handful of individuals
create so much destruction,
and leave the rest of the world
watching
powerless,
paralyzed,
silent?

Is there something I’m missing?

If you place yourself
even for one second
in the shoes of a mother in Palestine,
or in Congo,
or Sudan…

If you truly let yourself feel that weight,
even just for a breath

We should all be in the streets.
We should all be enraged.