That Is The Trouble With

So When I Say That I Am A Refugee, You Must Understand That There Is No Refuge.

We Cannot Choose Where To Start And Stop. Our Stories Are The Tellers Of Us.

If Your Face Is Swollen From The Severe Beatings Of Life, Smile And Pretend To Be A Fat Man.

Things That We Have To Really Dare Ourselves To Do Come Quite Naturally To Others.

When I Reached Fort Binjemma, For Example, Where My Grandfather Was Stationed For A While, The Whole Victorian Fort Was Decaying. Barbed Wire Surrounded It, Spray Paint On The Ancient Walls Claimed It As Private Property, And The Moat Where My Grandfather And His Men Had Grown Crops - In Desperation As The Siege's Hunger Bit - Was Completely Overgrown With Bushes And Trees.