I am a doctor. I know pain. I have pain in my back;

It shoots through my neck, across my shoulders, down to my hands and fingers

I started my day this morning treating a middle-aged woman who was injured by shrapnel in the upper part of her chest on both sides, causing internal bleeding in her lungs.

From: “No one dies of hunger”

To: “Everyone will die of hunger.

Hunger has always been part of life here. There’s an old saying: “No one dies of hunger”; meant to comfort the poor, to give them hope.

My name is Ali. I am a human. I’m a doctor from Gaza.

I have so much to say; nightmares, endless stories of endless suffering.

Since 1948, the US has denied us both freedom and flour; and called it diplomacy

A-Aqsa martyr's hell, tonight!

+18,000 child martyrs. Tens of thousands more injured. But the numbers no longer matter.

I need to share this before I die, I need to scream it out before it's too late for all of us.

This isn't a nightmare. This is not suffering. This is me wishing for death, not life.

This is what the world is allowing. How many more will it take?

Do you really think Gaza won't return; Gaza as we once knew it? That we are meant to live forever in fear of displacement, torture, starvation, dehumanisation, and death? No.

Alexander is free.

When will we be? When!!

Why must I survive a genocide? Why do l have to live like this?

We, are 2.3 million besieged souls in Gaza, and we are left waiting for the world to decide whether we are worth saving; in exchange for a single hostage. This is not a made up story.

From the heart of this U.S.-made hell. I am still here. With my whole body intact, head still attached, skin not yet burned, a half-full belly, a shattered heart, and a mind lost between confusion and despair.

We tried everything. But they were too small to survive their injuries. Too small to be killed. They were alone in their last moments. They were very cold. They were very pale. They were Palestinian babies

Will this genocide ever end? Could everything suddenly stop; just as suddenly as it began, without us having already ended forever? We will never be normal again, but that would still be more merciful than waiting for death.

I constantly feel an overwhelming urge to explode in the middle of the world,

Causing a massive explosion with my body, scattering my blood to the entire earth,

To permanently stain every killer and silent bystander faces.

If this isn’t dehumanisation, then what is?

We went to the sea to recharge our minds with something different, only to find that the sea itself was weary and sad.

let it be at the very center of the world, so that my blood may forever stain the faces and hands of all who denied my humanity, who refused to see me as someone worthy of life, worthy of saving, from the human beasts who hunted us. 

My story? It's not a beautiful one; but maybe that's exactly why it needs to be told. 

I am not alive. I am not dead. I'm not even in between. I don't know what I am anymore.

إعايشين حلاوة روح