No One Will Survive This, Not Even Those Watching From Afar
The future is anti-zionist or apocalyptic.
They even stole my writing from me. I haven’t written in months—I don’t have the words. They took the one thing I’ve always relied on to make sense of the world. This isn’t writer’s block, and it’s not about having time. It’s that no words feel accurate anymore.
I say they, and you instantly know who they are; I don’t have to name them. They who commit it, and they who fund it. They who justify it and lie about what they’ve done.
It’s far beyond what we once thought would be too much. A new category needs to be invented, and I can’t find the proper words for it. Every single day brings another atrocity, worse than the last. You brace yourself to write about one, and another pings your phone before finishing the first paragraph.
BREAKING! Another death, another massacre. Another body, dismembered in the name of self-defense. The third, the fifth, the seventeenth. Another hospital or a school bombed by the people who don’t bomb hospitals or schools. Another …
