My mind cannot comprehend what is happening to us in Gaza. We are presented to the world, with crows tearing at our flesh.

Groups emerge calling Gaza "steadfast," claiming Gaza has no equal in resisting the occupier, portraying Gaza as an unbreakable mountain.

I am from Gaza, and I tell you:

We are broken.
We are utterly defeated. We are defeated by means of killing, starvation, awareness, education, and life itself.

I am not steadfast.
I have no choice but to wait, so do not call my waiting "steadfastness."

My waiting is a temporary death.
I write these words while hungry.
Every time I stand, I feel dizzy.
Markets are empty, and what little remains is being sold at unimaginable prices.
I hate writing about my hunger.
My family and everyone around me are hungry.

The occupation has succeeded in starving us, killing us.
Gaza's internal leadership has done nothing.
The West Bank and occupied interior have done nothing.
Jordan and Egypt have done nothing.
Europe, while preaching human rights, has done nothing.
No one has helped us.
Not even to evacuate my brother, who may lose his ability to speak from an ear injury.

Why do I write to you, then? So you might feel a little sadness.
I don’t even know if my writing makes you feel anything.
I don’t know if it’s necessary for you to feel anything.

All I know is this:
I no longer want Gaza. When the chance to leave comes, I will not return, and I will not consider the world deserving of my respect.