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First published May 13, 2012

There’s no peace.

I think about being killed.  I think that’s reasonable for me to do.  My daily commute takes me through 16th and Mission, an intersection known for transmisogynist violence.  All I see in the news are reports of murder of trans women of color.  It is fucking overwhelming.

It does not give me peace to dwell on the fact that if I were killed, I’d most likely get the Matthew Shepard treatment.  I’m white, after all.  People very likely would pay attention.  Maybe the cops would pretend to give a shit.  Maybe my murderer (or someone the cops said was my murderer) would be found.  Maybe there’d be talk among politicians about writing new laws.

I am so fucking disgusted.

Right now I’m functioning on anger because I can’t go to sleep and get up and get on the bus and go to work and pay rent and eat if I am sobbing so hard I cannot breathe.

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