I am well acquainted with the depths of despair; that place where words hurt in every way and never more than when they give the faintest glimmer of the only thing that could possibly be worse than despair: Hope. Hope makes you drag yourself through the hell you’re trapped in when you’re so broken it’s a miracle you...

I wonder what is going to happen next. I wonder if I can hold it together to get a job and move out on my own. I wonder if I can manage to hold on to that job and support myself. I wonder, because I am not really wanted where I am. The only support I can count on, the support of my family and friends, is conditional....

There is more to this, to existing, than meets the eye. It is its own prerequisite and it hurts think about why or how. The only thing that hurts more is trying to make sense not existing. But, given our circumstances, we can’t really afford to take it for granted. By a certain age, we know that death awaits, but what...

We’re all human. None of us have a say in what circumstances we are born. Pretty much any other characteristic by which people can be defined produces some form of social stratification. Thinking about it boggles the mind. I’ve grown up with the ideas of caste and class, and tried to understand how anyone can willingly...

Even with the best intentions no one has the right to impose a system of thought or action on anyone against their will. Ironically, that is exactly what has happened to all of us as we were born into this world. It is in some ways no different than being born into slavery, in the sense that we come into the world...