Gaza is where the sun sets. Everyday, it sets.
The 100 days has almost quadrupled.
No longer a moment.
Something else entirely.
A lot of Death. Injury. Loss. Desperation.
Being alive today in Gaza is more of status of not being killed yet. We like to call it steadfastness. But that’s us not them.
Because there is them, those in Gaza, and there is us, everywhere else.
They plead everyday for the world to stop the war.
They provide proof, a story after a photo after a video after words and after sounds.
We shared. We protested. We pleaded so loud. Every day and then some.
What I thought was a moment is now the everyday.
Not that we got used to it. But we did get used to it.
I don’t understand the world before. That world was a dream? Maybe not.
That world was a hallucination, mind you collectively selective.
Collectively awakening or a selective devastation?
I often feel I am letting them down.
But did we?
They who are alive-still, feel let down as some have said, repeatedly.
But who let them down?
Was there a moment when we did something of a clear consequence of letting them down?
or was it our previous "everyday"?
I think truly, we give ourselves too much credit and thus privilege when we think we let them down.
I think it’s a subconscious way of hiding our own mega let down.
Because are levels of every emotion. More like shades. Not a binary thing.
Like the shades of a sunrise we dream of everyday after watching the sunset.