Burning Beneath

My heart… I don’t even know what to say.

It’s hard to find the words when your mind is spinning, when the weight of injustice crushes your chest and you feel everything—too much—all at once. I’ve been quiet, but my heart hasn’t been. It’s been screaming.

Yes, the whole world is watching. Talking. Debating. Spinning stories about wars and allies and distractions. But we know what’s happening. We’ve known for a long time.

Some people are cheering because—for once—Israel is feeling what so many others have felt for generations. But celebrating devastation is not the answer. Neither is silence. And for those of us who have been saying it all along—Wake up. Look at what’s happening—we are exhausted.

I don’t stand with one country over another because of politics or religion or nationalism. I stand with life. I stand against murder, starvation, displacement, and control. I stand against systems that treat people like pawns and pain like strategy.

This isn’t about where you’re from. This isn’t about who you pray to. This is about being human.

And we’re failing that.

People say the world is overpopulated, that there isn’t enough to go around. Lies. Nature provides. There’s enough. But greed devours it all. The hunger for power, control, domination—it’s what’s killing us. Not lack of food or water or land. It’s us.

Yes, some are finally admitting it now: it’s genocide. Ethnic cleansing. A crime against humanity. After all this time. After all these deaths. After years of silence under the excuse of “right to defend.” Now the words come. But the bombs never stopped.

So part of me is relieved that people are finally speaking out. And part of me is furious it took this long. And another part of me is scared this is just another wave of noise that won’t lead to change.

Because we’ve seen this cycle before.

I don’t want your statements. I don’t want performative grief. I want justice. I want life to mean something again.

My heart is tired. But I still believe in us. Somehow. Even after all of this.