It no longer hurts me or even affects me that the world doesn’t give a shit that we have been dead all our lives in Gaza.

It doesn’t bother me anymore that we live trapped in 360 square kilometers and that all we know is how to stay alive. After so many failed attempts, my dreams no longer demand me to fulfill them, and, in fact, there are no more dreams at all!

Not long ago, I stopped punishing myself for all the things I had wanted to do and couldn’t in this city, Gaza, that is presented to us as a prize we are asked to love and die for.

I can bear the thought of being born in a matchbox that opens and closes from both sides.

I am no longer mad that death in Gaza is our non-negotiable destiny, nor saddened by the scenes of death and destruction.

I am past being outraged by the absence of justice on earth and the justice of heaven being delayed.

What angers me, pains me, and drives me crazy now is that they have chosen a weapon more powerful than all the rockets and explosives they have dropped all our lives on Gaza. They have chosen to starve us as a tool of war.

North hungered, south hungered; north deprived, south crazed. Did the occupier decide to play on the ancient human psyche, tricking us to leave our place of residence to look for food, after all their plans to expel us failed? Is their plan going as intended in making Gaza an unlivable place?

It is madness that makes me and my family spend all our time thinking about how to get a sum of money to be able to cross a concrete wall and a desert — a sum of money equivalent to the amount needed to travel to the North Pole.

In what world is there no power to curb Israel?

Death continues to laugh at us. One scenario after another is being proposed, and there are many questions but no answers here!