I’ve run into a dilemma recently, one that has permeated a comfortable place that I had found myself in for the past year or so. It’s no secret how violent prison is, but when prison becomes an environment where the smallest assaults go unnoticed you began to wonder if rehabilitation really means what it does in the dictionary, and mainly the term the penal system uses to claim is a form of repentance.
I’m as tough as they come, but my character doesn’t emit that often, and some test that; subliminally, or personally. But only I know what I am capable of, only I know it is I for the sake of an inconsiderate fool that I must think for.
I know this doctrine personally, for I am currently living in the position where I did not have the patience to think for another.
I will close with this; What do you do when you’re an out numbered man amongst gangs and tyrannical imbeciles, where is your comfortable place when you’re refused to obtain it?
As a man serving a life sentence, there’s a stigma that I, and others alike have nothing to lose when it comes to a person disrupting privacy or space, and with that you must defend it at all cost however it may take violently. But I have much to lose, mainly, a second chance at freedom and redemption.
You see, this isn’t an option that is held over the heads of those disruptors, they have the option to mess up as many times as they want, stir up commotion when they want, because they’re soon to be released. If I decide to stand up for myself, or protect myself, then I will likely destroy my chances at a parole board who will dictate my freedom all because another young man disrupted my space.
If eyes don’t want to see, then someone has to see for them.