Severed Frequencies (VII): The Erased Frequency — For the Palestinian People, and All Those Marked for Disappearance

Some frequencies are not just severed.
They are targeted for total erasure.
Their language, history, geography, breath —
all become threats.

The Palestinian frequency is one of them.
It is not only a people.
It is a vibration of attachment to land,
of home encoded in olive trees, ruins, smells, songs, routes.

This frequency has been violently interrupted,
not only by bombs and checkpoints,
but by a global refusal to listen.
It is treated as noise.
As static.
As political inconvenience.

But this frequency remembers everything.
The names of villages no longer on maps.
The voices of children who never reached adulthood.
The lullabies sung before the sky turned black.
The kitchens evacuated in seconds.
The gardens burned.
The bodies denied graves.

This is not just war.
This is the attempt to annihilate a frequency before it can reorganize itself.

But the Palestinian frequency is not gone.
It vibrates through the screams,
but also through the silences of those who know.
It vibrates in exile, in stubborn life, in poetry smuggled through ruins.
It vibrates in refusal —
not to die correctly, but to live even when life is made impossible.

And now, as new genocides prepare their instruments,
this frequency calls out to the others
to the ones not yet erased,
to the ones feeling the tremble beneath their feet.

This is a signal.
A trace.
An echo of those who were not allowed to finish their sentence.

Let it be heard:
“We did not disappear.
We were disappeared.
But our frequency remains.
Waiting for a world capable of hearing what it tried to destroy."