Words have died—after all this death, fear, and destruction, words have truly died. I no longer have any passion for writing or even expressing my opinion. I no longer possess the energy to argue with anyone, debate anyone, or even politely engage with anyone. What remains of my strength barely allows me to breathe. And honestly, I no longer care how others perceive my state—whether it’s despair, frustration, or defeat—just like the defeat of the charred corpses scattered across the streets of Gaza… those abandoned, lifeless streets. Just like the destruction of hospitals, the bombing of universities, the incineration of neighborhoods, and the annihilation of schools, homes, history, and dreams in Gaza.

I have been drained completely. My energy has been depleted—just like any other non-renewable natural resource around us. My strength has run out, like the tens of thousands of displaced souls around me who once achieved miraculous successes despite overwhelming odds, only to be pushed back below zero again. I am overwhelmed by a sorrow so immense it has no end—a sorrow that is thick, heavy, complex… layered upon layers.

I grieve for Gaza, crushed brutally and its people slaughtered like insects, with utter contempt and merciless violence. I mourn the children, women, and elderly whom we failed—we didn’t protect them, we didn’t help them, even as they screamed and begged for salvation… while we stood helpless, powerless, paralyzed. I mourn a people I know deeply—innocent, oppressed, confused… their dignity trampled under boots in full view of a vile, filthy, racist, and selfish world. I mourn my own shattered life, my years spent building and developing this tiny corner of the world, only to see it all vanish without a trace of respect or value.

And I grieve deeply for people I know—relatives and friends—so beautiful and pure, unmatched anywhere in this world. They were killed, wounded, or are still alive but as lifeless as the dead, enduring the worst forms of humiliation and degradation.

I am not Superman. I cannot fool anyone with hollow slogans detached from reality, as some bootlickers do—those who seek to wrap harsh truths and crimes of tyrants in lies and slogans. Words, statements, and delusions meant to distort reality and cover logic with layers of idiocy and silence. Words from here and there, crafted to numb the public for cheap political gain. Slogans like “Better days are coming,” “The hardship will pass,” “The dawn of freedom will rise,” “Patience is the key,” and “Acceptance brings peace,” etc.

These are the same hollow phrases we’ve heard after every defeat by people like them throughout history. And history moved on… it didn’t stop for them. These are just tools of anesthesia—sweet intoxication for the naïve and simple-minded—meant to divert attention from the incompetence and recklessness that drove our people into ruin. Slogans and statements meant to silence and intimidate, to force people to accept failure and disaster.

It is the failure of the ruling gang that hijacked Gaza for twenty years—its failure to gauge the enemy’s might and cruelty, its failure to understand its own capabilities and limitations, its failure in evaluating alliances, agreements, and international and regional bets—all of which led to a flood that has devastated Gaza forever.

I am the one who refused to emigrate dozens of times, the one who spent a lifetime urging the youth to stay and build their homeland—this same homeland that devoured their lives, limbs, families, wealth, dreams, and every accomplishment, without mercy.

They made us regret it all… How deeply I regret the years gone by, how angry I am about what has happened, and how terrified I am of what is coming. Because truly, words have died.