Clouds move across the sky. The wind seizes hold of the treetops. Soon afterward, it starts to rain.

The first stars had started to shine, and the moon looked like a translucent ghost haunting the western skies.

See me. See me for who I am. I am magic. I am human. I am inhuman. See me. I am a boy. I am a girl. I am everything and nothing in between. See me. You do. You see me. You recoil in fear. You scream in anger. See me. I bleed. I ache. You see me, and you wish you hadn't. You wish I was invisible. Out of sight, out of mind. Unseen, faded, muted. You want my color. You want my joy. You want a monochrome world with monochrome beliefs. You see me, and you want to take it all away. But you can't. You want me lost, but I am found in the breaths I take, in the spaces between heartbeats. I am found because I refuse to be in black and white, or any shade of gray. I am color. I am fire. I am the sun, and I will burn away the shadows until only light remains. And then you will have no choice but to see me.

The stars were beginning to appear overhead. The sky was streaked in orange and pinks and blue, blue, blue. The sea birds called. The waves crashed against the rocks.

This isn't simply an orphanage. It is a house of healing, and one that I think is necessary. There was a poet, Emma Lazarus, who wrote, "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free."

My top ten favorite TV shows of 2025:

My top ten favorite films of 2025:

Didn't the ornaments of our youth all fade to nothing, if we lived long enough?

Here he was, with an all-access pass to the mind and body of a serial killer, and none of the consequences could touch him. He'd never be seen, never be questioned, he'd certainly never be caught...

Evening has almost swallowed the light of the sun, turning the sky dark blue except at the westernmost horizon, where it is still changing from deep purple.

We are, all of us, just trying to survive this.