#hamasislsis

סרטון חדש מה7 באוקטובר. תושבי עזה חוגגים כשמחבלי חמאס חוזרים  משטח ישראל עם בני ערובה, וגופות. (זיו רובינשטיין)

ישראל במלחמה | חדר מצב וחדשות ישראל

- לשיתוף ב WhatsApp לחצו כאן

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👆New video from October 7.  Gazan civilians celebrate when Hamas terrorists return from Israeli territory with hostages and dead bodies.  (Ziv Rubinstein)

Sound on 🔊

I'm sick of the duplicity of the world. Of the lies. Of the hate for our people. 

I'm sick of the fact that people can make up any lie they want-- and it will be believed, as long as it's against Israel.

I'm sick of the vilification of our people. 

I'm sick of not being able to be human. Everyone else is allowed to be human. But not us. Our humanity only exists when we are dead and stay dead, when we accept death like good Jews. We can only be human when we are a young girl with a diary - killed before she grows up to be a Jewish woman. She is pure and good. And dead. *She* is allowed to be human. 

I'm sick of the veneration of Palestinians as angels.  As holy martyrs like Jesus who die for humanity's sins. Who are the stick with which the Jews are beaten and the collective guilt forged around our necks 

I'm sick of the vapid, mindless, privileged fcks who call for our extinction without repercussions. Who win virtue points with pithy slogans that are euphemisms for genocide.

I'm sick of the spineless, "as a Jews" who go along with them, bending over with a "thank you sir may I have another" claiming the moral high ground as they tread on our people

I'm sick of the idiot soldiers who act like buffoons or racists and upload their idiocy to the internet making the majority - the good upstanding people of the IDF look bad.

I'm sick of having to beg to be heard, for our pain to count, for the world to understand that they are playing into Iran's hands in every step of this masterplan to destroy the West and the Jews

I'm sick of balancing love of my people with hatred of this government, walking that thin thin line that barely holds me up. Not asking the questions of HOW DID THIS HAPPEN and WHERE WERE YOU because this unity we've found is the glory of Israel

I'm sick of not being unable to say BRING THEM HOME at any cost because there are some costs too hard to bear if we are going to prevent this from happening again. 

I'm sick of waking up on repeat just to realize this isn't a nightmare.

Shoshanna Keats Jaskoll

How uninvolved are uninvolved Palestinians in Gaza? 

My mom bought me these boots from Zara in Denver a few weeks back. She could feel me sinking into a pit of rage, grief, and hopelessness. So, she came to meet me in Denver and upon landing, took me to walk the mall “just to get out and move through it.” My mother, a miracle, born to a father who was the sole Holocaust survivor in his family, knows a thing or two about battling anger and grief at a world fixated on annihilating Jews and our spirits.

 I've been intimately familiar with the horrors of October 7th since it happened. Like countless Jews, I've meticulously followed every gruesome detail of Hamas' well-planned and well-funded genocide attempt. Every despicable act of torture, rape, and murder – etched into my bones. On top of that, I follow daily the relentless onslaught of people and communities celebrating, erasing, and justifying the slaughter, while denying our right to defend ourselves. Watching old friends ‘like’ and share posts constantly which dehumanize Jews and lie about Israel, putting our lives further at risk. Contending with all of this over the past few months has been unbearable. Like many Jews, I'm haunted both awake and asleep. 

I've been debilitated, struggling to cope with all of it. How do we carry on in a country where so many wish us dead? How do we thrive in a place that dismisses our pain and disregards our countless contributions to society? How do I contemplate having children in a place where their lives aren't valued? How can I coexist with so many people who, at best, couldn't care less about the brutal murders of over 1200, the kidnapping and daily ongoing torture of hundreds more for over 119 days, while the world cheers for the rest of us to be annihilated? How do I sleep at night when all I can think about are the looming threats to Israel and the Jewish people, the treatment of our hostages, and the insidious web of hatred that constantly engulfs our existence? 

When my mom handed me these boots, I thought they might be fitting for Israel, but I didn't really dwell on it. I knew the journey would be grueling. And while I thought I already knew the gruesome details, walking through the aftermath is a different level of knowing. These boots tread through miles of hell – the remnants of homes ruthlessly attacked by a kind of evil I couldn't fathom existed. An evil that deliberately targeted communities of Israelis dedicated to peace, only to be met with beheadings, rape, burning alive, and slaughter.

 These boots tread through miles of desolation – the aftermath of thousands of terrorists and hundreds of so-called "civilians" perpetrating unspeakable acts against over a thousand innocent, peace-loving people. These vile rapists and murderers were the beneficiaries for years of those they heartlessly slaughtered. They were acquainted with so many of these good people, the very people they mercilessly killed. Several of these compassionate Israelis had welcomed these terrorists into their homes for years, offered them work opportunities, and tirelessly tried to help them lead a better life. 

These boots ventured through charred remains, blood-soaked grounds, and homes, bomb shelters, and once-beloved personal spaces and belongings torn apart, covered in bullet holes, reduced to pieces and char – all obliterated by hours of relentless assaults by terrorists armed with thousands of machine guns, fire bombs, and RPGs. Weapons funded, in part, by American and European taxpayers, whose leaders for years knowingly funneled billions into a terror operation whose sole objective is eradicating Israel and every Jew from the map before extending their genocidal ambitions westward. 

After coming back from our third trip to the massacre sites in the south, 

@JordynTilchen

insisted on me wiping these boots down before stepping into our rental, but the weight of what they carried was too immense. I couldn't erase the traces of blood and death that clung to them. Instead, I brought them home with me wrapped in several bags. These boots hold more than just grime; they carry the echoes of unspeakable atrocities and the silent cries of hundreds and hundreds of innocent lives ruthlessly tortured and taken.

 I've decided to give them a burial here, to acknowledge the horrors they tread through, the shattered communities and homes they traversed, and to honor the remains of the once-beautiful lives torn from existence that cling to them. As I do this, I promise to honor not only those brutally murdered and taken hostage, but also those who are risking everything to defend the rest of us. I promise to continue to do my best to not be consumed by what feels like a tsunami of hopelessness, but to pick myself back up and channel this endless grief and anger into meaningful action and resilience.

Eden Cohen ✡︎ עדן כהן