It is a Life.

I can’t stop thinking about the Sednaya prison.

I eat well. A comfy and warm bed awaits me each night. My dresses are fine, I have friends, I lead a relatively luxurious life.

What a stark contrast with the people who went into Sednaya at age 19. 18. Much younger. Most of them died. The ones who survived probably wished they would be better off dying. Sednaya, as you probably know, was a “military prison” during the Syrian Civil War (is this war still going on or did it reach a conclusion for good -only time will tell). Sednaya was a hole in the heart of the Earth, it was the void that erased values; vulgar, atrocious, unbelievably cruel. A survivor relays that he saw the guards put a teenager inmate on fire, and watched him “take 19 days to die”.

So much for humanity.

What happens beyond our bubbles? The ones in which you, I, and anyone who can afford the internet to read this live in?

There are probably many, many Sednayas in this world. What are we supposed to do, faced with this chilling, depressing fact?