Things that I think about stuff. When I look back on my childhood as a trans, queer, autistic, mentally ill and disabled little boy, I often see the things that were missing. The problem with hindsight, always, is that it can only occur late, very late or far, far too late. From my teens and into the present, I found myself tinkering with words to try to get a handle on who and how I am. To try to communicate it. To try to validate it.

They put cops on every corner. They spy on us with our own tools of leisure. They ask our teachers to inform on us. We need to shorten these fee.