I am 16. I live in a house of other boys with HIV/AIDS. We are all to blame for having it because you do it to yourself only sometimes you get it from people who abuse you. Your study is cool. I hope you cover pain. Pain is a big deal to us. I am reading Susan Sontag and she gets yelled at by critics for being angry. She says there is a mystique. I do not know what it means. I am mad. I am mad at me. My numbers are AIDS. Doctors and nurses will abuse you. They abuse me all the time. No one listens. It is very bad to live with. Sometimes it hurts so much you wish you were dead. They will not help you with pain. They are more scared of addiction when you are dying. It is not fare. Every day I wonder if being alive is worth it. I do not think being alive is worth it because pain. It is a lot of pain. Being alive means people abuse you and pain. I do not kill myself because I do not have no guts to do it. I am am a pussy. Killing yourself is hard. I take pills. Some pills are for depressions. They do not work. It is still pain. I do not know how to spell it. It is a long word for the HIV has damaged your nerves. My nerves are damaged and sometimes I cannot walk. Other boys play soccer. I watch them. It is very hard. I can not run. I think nurses force us to be naked because they like to see you naked. They want to spit in my face. When it is a clinic day and the nurse abuses me I want to kill myself. I have help to talk about my feelings. The nurse does not care. She still screams at me to be naked and she abuses me. I can not write this no more. It is so upsetting me. Bye. Simon.