I am Tala, a young man in the prime of my youth, from Gaza, a place where dreams are often born in silence and shattered in smoke.

I once lived a short but beautiful dream, one filled with hope and ambition. I wanted to live fully, to breathe freely, to achieve everything I had ever dreamed of. I had plans, goals, and a heart full of determination. I envisioned a future where I could study, work, travel, and build a life filled with meaning, not only for myself but for those I love.

But the war

The war stole that dream from me.

The bombs did not just fall on buildings, they fell on our hopes, on our childhood memories, and on the futures we were working so hard to build. The rockets of the occupation took more than just lives and homes. They robbed us of our right to imagine, to dream, to believe that tomorrow could be better.

Now, I find myself standing among the ruins, ruins of homes, of streets, of laughter, and of dreams. What remains are painful scenes that will never fade, the cries of children, the silence of the dead, and the haunting image of a city that once breathed life, now covered in ashes and sorrow.

I carry within me dreams that were never fulfilled. I live in a constant replay of a painful scene, one that immortalizes the destruction, the injustice, and the deep, relentless ache of loss.

All I ever wanted was to live. To be young. To be free.

But in Gaza, even the simplest dream comes at a cost too high.