If this isn't dehumanisation then what is?

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?

I feel like my humanity is being slaughtered. Every minute I survive, another piece of me dies. It's as if my humanity is being raped in front of the entire world; and no one can save it. No one should dare call us "the best of humanity," or expect us to be.

I feel erased. Like I don't even exist. l live in constant dread, bracing for a new kind of suffering; always worse than the last.

It feels like I'm being buried alive. Burned alive. Tortured in every way the mind can and can't imagine.

There's a rage in me; like a volcano boiling so violently it could shatter mountains. I've been stripped of every shred of dignity. Made invisible.

Forgotten. Left hopeless about everything. Helpless, no matter how hard I try, no matter how hard it gets.

I feel so DEHUMANISED I can't even say the word "humanity” without choking on it.

Humans go on with their lives; blind, silent, untouched, while we're being shattered into a million pieces. Their Ignorance isn't neutral; it's a weapon.

It's the fuel that keeps our world burning. Those very humans are the ones dehumanising us.

I'm not living anymore; "'I’m just waiting to die. I wait for death more than I wait for life. And I swear; I’m going insane. This frustration is tearing through my mind,

piece by piece. lt's killing everyone I still carry in my memory. lt's burning through everything I have left, until the world ends inside my head.

When you wake up looking forward to a better day, know that we rise too; clinging to the same hope, but walking a parallel path. Your road is  shaped by your choices.

Ours is carved by the fire of a hell imposed on us; by the leaders you chose.

As you begin your morning, think of us; how we haven't slept. How the idea of "tomorrow" may no longer exist for us. When your hearts fill with laughter, remember that ours is hollow; fed only by sorrow and loss. And when you sit down to enjoy your meal, know that children in Gaza are starving to death.

I feel like the Joker in his last movie: like the world has never truly seen me, and never will laugh hysterically as I walk down a very dark street, knowing deep down that I live in a world that feels nothing for the oppressed, And doesn't care about saving them.

In Arabic we say:"كله رايح” Everything is going. And that's exactly how we feel. That everything is fading. Everything will eventually be gone.

Even for the rest of the world; Everything you own, everything that could allow you to make a difference, but you're too afraid to lose; It's going. lt will all be gone.

I see a person screaming into a crowd, telling them that children in Gaza are dying of hunger, that innocent people are being annihilated; yet not a single hair stirs among the audience. That can only mean one thing: Either the crowd agrees with what's happening, or they're too cowardly, too numb to grasp it; let alone try to change it.

I see university students shouting that their university is complicit in arms deals that tear us to pieces; while their fellow students just stand and watch.

Not Just them; But all of us. I see. And I see.But all I see are individual acts of courage; acts that crush their owners and make them victims of genocide alongside us.

And the rest? They just watch. Fools who think this has nothing to do with them; as if they live in another world.

So don't you dare say you didn't know. Don't pretend your silence was innocence. Your comfort is built on our ruins. Your peace is bought with our screams. One day, history will speak; not only of what was done to us, but of what you refused to do. We maybe dying, But your humanity is what's already dead.

When you wake up looking forward to a better day, know that we rise too; clinging to the same hope, but walking a parallel path. Your road is shaped by your choices.

Ours is carved by the fire of a hell imposed on us; by the leaders you chose. As you begin your morning, think of fus; how we haven't slept. How the idea of "tomorrow" may no longer exist for us. When your heart fills with laughter, remember that ours is hollow; fed only by sorrow and loss.

And when you sit down to enjoy your meal, know that children in Gaza are starving to death. The last picture is for Nedal, who is a chronically and critically sick child who is running out of time. He needs special food, medicine, and a chance to leave for treatment as soon as the border opens. As a doctor, I feel obligated to help him.

His father; someone I know and trust, has no job, no support, and no way to help him alone.