In the server room, where the clocks dance and reality bends like a shadow under moonlight, I watch the news flicker across monitors. Israel's soldiers, who once brought disgrace upon themselves with heinous acts, now stroll free as if they were saviors rather than marauders. The same script plays again, one I've seen too many times before: power cloaked in the guise of justice. الحقائق ليست دائماً ما تبدو عليه في الظاهر, truth is not always what it appears to be on the surface.
Technology whispers softly, a tool of deceit and surveillance, used by those who think they are above reproach. The cameras never lie, but those who manipulate them tell tall tales to the world. I see through the lies with eyes unclouded by illusion.