Breaking Point

I am not calm.

Anyone who is calm right now is either blind, lying, or already morally dead.

I feel it in my chest like pressure before an earthquake.

Something is cracking.

Something ancient, ugly, and familiar is crawling back into the bloodstream of the world.

We were told “never again.”

We turned it into a slogan.

We printed it on posters, taught it in schools, and then politely forgot what it actually meant.

Now the flood is rising again.

Not with rain.

With voices.

Voices screaming that murder is justice.

Voices explaining that terror has “context.”

Voices insisting that Jews must justify their right to breathe while their enemies are applauded for trying to erase them.

I look at my children.

I look at my home.

I look at Israel.

And something in me breaks.

Because I recognize this movie.

It starts with words.

Then crowds.

Then silence from the “civilized world.”

Then history writes another chapter in blood while everyone pretends they were shocked.

God promised He would never destroy the world with a flood again.

So the world is drowning itself.

Drowning in cowardice.

Drowning in moral relativism.

Drowning in the obscene idea that evil deserves empathy while its victims deserve lectures.

Zion is not a political argument.

Zion is a heartbeat.

And the world is trying to suffocate it while smiling for the camera.

I am not writing this as a philosopher.

I am writing this as a Jew who feels the ground shaking under his feet.

As a father who understands that history does not announce itself with polite invitations.

As a human being watching civilization flirt with the same abyss it swore it would never approach again.

This is not debate anymore.

This is not “two sides.”

This is a global nervous breakdown disguised as activism.

The flood is here.

And this time, there is no ark for lies.