Dear Happiness by Kian Iuchi-Fung (15, California)

[Content warning: strong language, discusses suicide]

​Dear Happiness,

The day is the 7th of December, 2020. Finally the last year of Trump’s presidency, maybe the beginning of his autocracy. The year is nearly finished and Christ(mas) is coming soon. 

When America was born, the founding fathers made it clear that "we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”

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So why is it that we hate ourselves? Why is it that the institutions that taught us to love wiped their hands clean of our blood and called it suicide instead of murder? The pursuit of happiness is only reserved for (white) men, whose unalienable right to not take responsibility for the life, liberty, and happiness they destroy begs the question of why?

Why their hate becomes our hate, becomes our oppression, becomes our depression, becomes our death, our suicide because at the end of the day it’s our fault, isn’t it? You can see the headlines already: “Man in dress kills himself in Rome, New York."

So Happiness, sincerely fuck you.

From,
A "man" in a dress,
because I belong to life and liberty so who the fuck needs you.

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