Massacres in Gaza are not a past event we read about in books and archives, but an ongoing and present reality, unfolding before our very eyes. We watch it happening, hear its loud noise through the airwaves, and see its impact imprinted on people's faces, gestures, silences, and glassy eyes, the light within extinguished. When the world sleeps and we lay our heads on the pillow, the massacre is awake in our imagination, screaming through our dreams.
Geographically, the distance and separation between the West Bank, Gaza Strip, and the 1948 territories would disappear in protests. Now the protests gradually vanish from the streets, along with the echoing chants and the interspersed appeals and condemnations. We still remember how a massacre here embodied anger there, and the massacre here, anger there.