I am overwhelmed with anger right now. I can no longer control my emotions.
I went to the eastern part of Khan Younis at 4 a.m., trying to get flour—amidst bombings, explosions, fear, and terror.
That area was under constant threat of shelling, evacuations, and strikes.
I walked nearly 6 kilometers on foot to get there.
When I arrived, I found the area crowded with people like me, all trying to get something to feed their hungry children.
Just as distribution began, warplanes and tanks advanced toward us and opened fire directly.
Some people were martyred, others were injured, and the rest of us fled for our lives.
We escaped, yes—but we got nothing.
Still, we returned to the same dangerous place, despite the gunfire, because our families were waiting with hope in their hearts.
We tried again to get anything—anything—to show that we hadn't failed those we love.
Then the warplanes came back and bombed us again.
At that moment, I felt that my end had come.
I thought I would not survive.
But by a miracle from God, we managed to escape again.
I returned to my family full of despair and hopelessness,
empty-handed, unable to bring anything to ease their hunger.
I hated myself.
I hated my life.
I hated my existence—because I am helpless to save my family.
Today marks the fourth day in a row without bread, without food, without anything.
I am not okay.
I am extremely exhausted.
I wish for death—it would be easier than this life that has never allowed us to live, not even for a single hour.😭💔
If Israel wanted peace, it wouldn’t bomb hospitals.
If America wanted dialogue, it wouldn’t veto ceasefires.
These aren’t accidents. They’re strategies.
You don’t flatten refugee camps by mistake.
You don’t bomb aid convoys out of confusion.
And you don’t veto peace—again and again—unless you’ve already chosen war.
Israel speaks the language of "security," but practices the grammar of annihilation.
America claims neutrality, but funds the bullets, shields the bombs, and buries diplomacy under piles of vetoes.
This isn’t self-defense.
It’s the performance of impunity.
Every hospital leveled.
Every ceasefire blocked.
Every child’s name lost under rubble.
These are not failures.
They are declarations.
Declarations of intent.
Of hierarchy.
Of who gets to live.
And who must die in silence.
But the silence is ending.
You don’t get to murder and moralize in the same breath.
Not anymore.
Because the world sees it now.
And that sound you hear?
It’s not silence.
It’s the sound of your excuses collapsing.
1/2
Instagram story by an Israeli soldier in Gaza, posted a few hours ago, captioned: "600 days of fighting. Thankful for the privilege to kill, murder and annihilate the ugliest creatures in nature 😘"
I wish children didn’t die. I wish they would be temporarily elevated to the skies until the war ends. Then they would return home safe, and when their parents would ask them: “where were you?”, they would say: “we were playing in the clouds”.
— Ghassan Kanafani, Palestinian writer murdered by Israel
Words and videos no longer make a difference…
This little girl, Maryam Abu Daqqa, is one of hundreds of children tormented by hunger or pain, deprived of food and essential medical care.
The conclusions and recommendations have not changed.
Now these unnecessary hip surgeries have finally, reluctantly, been confirmed by official, establishment channels, it is incumbent on the state to meaningfully intervene on behalf of those affected – and not take 18 months.
Israel has bombed a civilian cargo vessel in international waters off Malta, carrying just aid and peace campaigners.
The failure of western governments to stand up to any aspect of this genocide is the worst example of the power of individual corruption in all of human history.
NAMA chief Brendan McDonagh’s north Dublin home – which The Ditch revealed was registered under the alias PB McDonnacha – is being advertised to rent on a short-term letting site for more than €10,000 a week.
He was to be government’s new housing tsar.
https://t.co/zMYvpxEnvt