Who are we? Are we just human? Just "ugly bags of mostly water"? Or is there something more to us? What is it about ourselves that is so wonderfully varied, strange, beautiful, curious and even horrific? Why do we end up hating/fearing the different, instead of being fascinated and wanting to learn more?
I have seen the enemy, and it is US.
Suicide sucks. It hurts more than just the person in pain who couldn't bear it any longer. It acts like a growing thing, a cancer that can slowly expand and engulf those around Victim Zero. It's controversial. We argue over it, debate legalities and religious notions, we despair over it when people with potential, or just people we love, die. The still-living people it hurts are collateral damage in the war within ourselves.
And it makes me weep.
Leelah Alcorn was only seventeen. A young person who was living an oppressive life of rejection by her own family and religion, stifled within the confines of the incredibly negative world-view her parents were trapped in. It trapped Leelah, too, and it eventually killed her.
What goes through my mind whenever I see yet another kid destroyed by the use of religion to justify their parent's bigotries (forgive me, I know it's vulgar, but it still seems right):
More over the orange Requiem swirl.