Do you think we like being killed by folk who look like us? Do you think it doesn't bother us? Our bullets are often aimed at each other because we're too near the site of pain and heartbreak, frustration and depression. We often lack food and shelter, and we live in homes overrun with bodies, leaving us little room or rest. So we lash out at them, or at an acquaintance, or a partner in crime. Yes, it is true: sometimes we send them, or, perhaps, a stranger nearby, to their eternal reward. This is the geography of despair. It is also the pain of never having control, of always being afraid, of struggling to care for and love what we cannot protect.
-- Michael Eric Dyson, Tears We Cannot Stop, p. 144