they're playing Prince on the overhead sound system

I write this paper and it breaks my heart. It's funny because this feeling used to be one that only existed in personal relationships, this tight chest feeling of deep sadness. I can't really explain why it happens, logically I know that bad things happen in the world, the same way I used to know that other people went through break-ups and lost friendships.

It breaks my heart because I know it's right, because it puts into footnoted terms what I have seen with my own eyes. Because the conclusions are so painfully dimming for hope. Everything you believe will save you does not exist. There is no international law, no one is watching, and all of our well stated diplomatic overtures are just that. Sometimes, not even that well stated.

One thousand people per day die of something preventable, that we understand, that we knew was going to kill them, in one country alone. We knew, we know, we are all responsible for this. And, in the end, we will watch it happen in slow motion, and no one will be accused of genocide for a hundred years because this time it happened without machetes or gas chambers.

And this, seven years later, is what I get for knowing as much and learning diligently. A broken heart.