I could go into their reality any time I chose to, but they could never come into mine. This is what I called 'helping' them.
My body is a political battlefield.It is a place of war, of death and suffering, of triumph and victory, of damage and repair, of blood and tears and sweat.It is a place where memories go to find purp...
May we each find in ourselves the courage we forgot we have, to see the beauty we forgot is inside us, while battling the demons we forgot we can slay, on a battlefield we forgot we can win.
No one has the right to demand that your body be something other than what it is.
What you call 'contradiction' I call 'complement'.
Should' assumes that when either willingness or ability is lacking, it may be compensated for by an abundance of the other. This is simply not realistic.
If I die on my way to the dance, it will be better than to survive having never lifted my feet.