I find it difficult to write words for blip these days with the ongoing genocide in Gaza, so thought I'd share some from Ziad's Gaza diary, published in the Guardian.

"I recall a poem I read once by Sabrina Benaim in her book Depression & Other Magic Tricks. She says:

I held hands with my sadness / Sang it songs in the shower, fed it lunch / And put it to bed early

Is that what my friend and other people are thinking? Putting their sadness to bed early so they can steal some time to spend with hope? If I put sadness to bed early, what about fear? What about grief? What about sorrow? What about exhaustion?"  

He has a lot more to say.