Not too long ago I felt like dying. It wasn't something I was really well aware of, it just sat somewhere deep within me, like a chronic disease. I didn't feel alone. Maybe because everybody back where I came from had to face the same fate. Now, I am in a strange place, surrounded by people who were entitled their whole entire lives, and I can't decide whether I feel grateful or guilty. Guilty of abandoning the life I've always known. Life I was born into, just like everybody I've ever loved or cared about. The people that surrounded me back at the outskirts were familiar. All the places I used to live and sleep at were familiar, even though it was mostly cold and empty. I used to go hungry for dozens of days, but I still knew that life. I knew how to navigate through it and I knew I...