I find that the words don’t come out.  They stutter and stagger as I try to communicate who I am, why I’m here, what I’m doing.  Perhaps that is because I struggle with the same questions each day.  I see the wrongs people suffer, inequalities that they attempt to navigate and discrimmination felt everywhere.  It permeates medical school and Western society and my heart longs, nay, yearns with all its being, to dash into the great unknown yet again and feel things that seem more real.


One thought on “Words

  1. Not to worry – you can’t cure all the world’s ills. Just pick a few small ones here and there, and soon you’ll more clearly see who you are, why you’re here, what you’re doing, and the words will come.


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