My dear reader.

I have been writing and sharing personal stories on the internet for over 18 years now, and yet there are some weeks when even after all that practice I simply do not know what to say. When the violence of the state reaches some new level of cruelty to which it feels like the only rational response would be to open my mouth as wide as I can and never, ever stop screaming.

There’s always at least a little pressure, when one is writing for any kind of audience, to know the “right” thing to say. To try at all times to be either useful or uplifting or informative or or or. But the only thing I can be today is honest, and the honest thing is that I feel fucked up, ya’ll.

I feel angry and scared, and I’ve been trying to ground myself in the words of those who speak with unambiguous moral clarity.