Crises and wars are a strange matter. Novel pains are imposed and old wounds open despite efforts to burry and forget about them; at the same time, they bring us together in a unique way.
Thank God, we are fine.
Every one of us is shattered in every way. It’s traumatic, Dr., I swear to God what is happening to us is traumatic!
don’t know how, but I feel my heart getting smaller and is losing its strength. Barely beating. Its beats come crazy fast and suddenly I feel it about to stop.
This is the fourth Friday of the war and I am still alive! I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, and I cannot assert that I have survived inevitable death.
So I tell myself “It’s Ok, the path has room for everyone.” But it suddenly narrowed for me to the point of suffocation and murder… Were my dreams that big?!
Looks like there is no escaping death. The occupation army started its invasion of Gaza since nightfall. It was a night that cannot be wiped off our memories.
nside my head, I own a world full of diverse types of lives, all shapes, colors, wonders, answers to all questions and questions to all answers.
The sound of Fairuz’s voice singing rises higher and higher, as she chants “we shall return one day to our neighbourhood”.
Have you ever heard of a people who do not cry over their dead as much as they cry their living? Those are us…
In the forty third morning of the war on Gaza… A morning of dignity from the proud and resilient Gaza…