Nothing changes your personality like identifying the killer in a news clip and then watching
while it becomes an officer and a firefighter vis a vis its transgender status. Nothing.
Nothing changes you like turning an exact whereabouts profiling of Osama Bin Laden into the FBIwithin six months of 9-11 and knowing the FBI has done NOTHING about it, while it takes them another nine years to get him while you were one hundred and ten billion percent certain it was him. It could have been a typical arrest. Not a trillion dollar war.Nothing.
Nothing makes you hate so intensely and so severely. Nothing makes you hate people and how clueless and blessed they get to be so much. Nothing.
Nothing makes you more uncomfortable with knowing people think of you as a failure and simply did not rise to your benchmarks. Nothing hurts so much.
Nothing feels like the disrespect one gets through credit denials and other kinds of employment.
Nothing hurts so much as knowing they needed that to happen to him. Nothing.
They needed his ego humiliated and disassociated for themselves and what their
confidences are built on. Nothing hurts so much as knowing what people you were once
friends with are like in a terrible situation. Nothing hurts so much as knowing one was good friends with such profoundly terrible people. No loyalty. No commitment. Nothing.
Nothing feels so terrible as knowing how truly terrible so many people are who are lauded,
respected, even acknowledged to be "good people." Knowing what terrible people they are-especially their insular sadisticness, their instincts, just how Terrible their influence.
Nothing hurts so much. Nothing huts like this nothingness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem