On My Father’s Birthday: A Letter To The Man Who Killed Him


Dear Sir,

I don’t know your name, but you killed my father on June 9, 1973, in Stockton, California. My father was thirty-two years old then; I was ten. If he had lived, he would have been 74 on November 29th.

The year my dad ws killed The year my dad ws killed

I am a 51-year-old woman now; my father has not been with me for most of my life, and yet I still feel his presence; I still miss him. When I was ten, and he was killed, I hated you. In fact, I hated you for many, many years. Somehow I got it in my head that you were a drunk driver and killed him while driving drunk. Perhaps someone told me that, or maybe it’s just what a child creates, to make sense of a senseless world. Admittedly, that story helped me for a while. It gave me a place to focus my…

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A Hijra in the family


I was just another boy wanting to be a girl. Now, I’ll be just another boy. I have not complained, nor do I complain now. I only tell a tale, for that’s all I’ve got. A tale, some could relate to.

This is for everyone who sees the queer movement as a superficial rich kid’s tantrum. I hail from a deeply religious middle class family with strong roots in a place known for its gender based crimes.

One of these days if I stopped existing the world wouldn’t know but I don’t want to be just another lgbt person. I don’t want to be just another statistic, just another note. I want to see the light, I want to be able to  hope but I don’t know where to look for hope, where to find it.

There was someone who told me, that maybe I should get my career sorted…

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Two different generations, one world.

When I look at his actions, when I notice his decisions, when I realize how different we are. We share the same blood, partial DNA, we’ve shared our lives together and yet we are so different. What is it that made her this way? Why is she so toxic? Why is she such a cannon ball?… In the depths of her soul something went wrong, her brain wired differently & her heart hard as stone but like most things, there is a core to her that no one and not even her self can understand. She has felt like she needs to work twice as hard for people to not see the real her, a woman that doesn’t even realize her true beauty on this earth. She, doesn’t even know who she really is anymore. Her, who has always lost herself after a life changing event; some will call it growing, she called it losing a part of who she is. Every time something happened where she thought it was tragic in her eyes, it was a part of her that died along with that experience. Through the many dark roads she became this evil person or so she sees herself as this evil individual because although she could never have the heart to harm an individual physically she has grown to self harm. To harm her mind, her body and soul …… To be continued..

Celibacy isn’t that bad……. on some days.

And there I was grasping for air, and knees shaking like Bambi. I don’t know what I was thinking. Most of us fornicate for the purpose of relieving ourselves, to finally experience the lust, to kill time, to make ourselves feel better. But at the end of it all. what kind of gratification do we really get out of fucking someone you barely know. If its not the person you really wish to be inmate with, then whats the purpose of losing a piece of who you are over a 3 minute fuck fest? As a lost woman in search for who she truly is and where she truly belongs, it has come to my attention that; sex is amazing and possibly one of the best things created by God or so I like to think that. But truly what has sex done for me ? Of course it has given me multiple orgasms, it has thought me the limits of my mind and body. But who am I? when my inner devil was released 8 years ago, there was no looking back. Mixed feelings and thoughts, I had my inner little freak sitting on my left shoulder and my moms words constantly repeating in my head. Thank God for morals right ? fuck that, I did as I pleased and fucked like the world would end tomorrow. Here I am now and what do I have to truly show? Celibacy is truly not that bad… on some days. When your truly devastated and looking for answers to all your mishaps you change things up, you make drastic choices, you tend to lose yourself before you can find yourself. I enjoy a good fuck, but don’t enjoy the emptiness I have felt once its all over. That’s just the type of woman I am, like most women yearn to be made love to; I simply yearn for someone who will fuck me and leave an impression in my soul. Until then celibacy isn’t that bad…. on some days. 

Diana D.