Structural Violence

What I asked was simple: If you believe in justice, start here. If you believe in access, help carry my case. If you believe in truth, stand beside my account. If you believe in care, risk being changed by what you hear. But Joe Ceci didn’t.

When the pain is intense enough, you cease to be someone in the world. You become a body against the world. The bench beneath you becomes strange. The air seems distant. Language cracks under the pressure. Even your name starts to feel like someone else’s.

Ever wonder how someone “snaps”? This isn’t about madness—it’s about process. Bureaucracy doesn’t just fail people; it sometimes creates the very dangers it claims to prevent. Here’s a breakdown of how dangerous people are manufactured—not by ideology, but by institutional silence and moral collapse.

“Safe” is supposed to be a sanctuary word, something that tells one ‘you can relax’ ‘no harm will come if you let your guard down’. But in practice, it has been stripped down to a forensic utility: are you still breathing? Yes? Then you are safe.

My home is not tasteful. It’s not neutral. It’s not designed for approval. It’s loud. It’s strange. It’s unrepentantly mine. And it was never meant to be seen by anyone but me.

When power crosses your threshold without consent, it isn't just the door that breaks — it's the illusion that you were ever meant to be safe inside

Imagine wielding institutional power like a hammer, only to show up later pretending you’ve never seen a nail in your life.

It allows everyone involved to feel like they’re doing something—while ensuring that no one is responsible for doing anything.