Why I write is because I have to,
because that the only thing that brings me peace.
Why I write, because it brings me joy,
happiness and a passion to just keep writing.
Why I write, because people say I am a very quiet person,
but very lethal with my writing and what I write about.
Why I write, because I’m motivated by my parents
and they love to see all my writings.
Why I write, because it’s very fun writing on a blank piece of paper, and it reminds me of the friends I couldn’t talk about my problems to. Why I write, because I can write anything
and never be judged by this piece of paper, never.
Why I write, because through this pencil,
it produces a sound to me with a symphony of possibilities. Why I write, because of this unit,
and all the times I’ve been in jail,
and just to relieve the stress that all of this comes with.
Why I write, because in my mind I’m a free man,
but it’s my body that’s locked up.
Why I write, so I can prove to my teachers
who told me I couldn’t write.
Why I write, because this pencil and paper
have become my truest friends ever.
Why I write, because I can write down all the mistakes I’ve done, so I won’t do it again and come back to juvenile hall
and graduate to jail or prison.
Why I write, because it put a smile on my face,
knowing I lled this paper with my feelings, thoughts and what I have to say.read more
Just when I thought my life was going to be easy! It only seems to get harder. I am just really over being in here. They think this would teach us a lesson but they don’t understand that this is a very traumatizing situation for our young minds. I understand that some of us don’t act young, or stay in a child’s place. At the same time people need to understand the life we live and the fears, struggle, and pain we go through and overcome every day by ourselves. There is nobody by our sides. They should understand and think about what we go through because it’s not easy. If they were in my shoes they would really get a great understanding about my life.
If we could just switch shoes for a day they would bow down to me and beg me to switch shoes back.
Me being them, would just say no so that they could be locked up all day like a caged animal. They would eat when I say eat and sleep when I say sleep. I wouldn’t switch lives totally; I would just switch for two weeks to give them a taste of their own medicine. That way they can feel the pain I feel every day I am in here. Then I wonder how would they act toward us? Would they still try and give us juvenile’s life? Would they still want to put us in 23-hour lockdown facilities? Would they still let us wash up in cold water with a sock that was on somebody you don’t even know the day before? Would they still have us eat food that we are not happy about? Would they still let us get an OC warning and then all our points taken away? Maybe then the staff wouldn’t be so petty.read more
Having your freedom taken away is not a very happy feeling. In fact, you live with a feeling of hate at yourself and others if you feel they put you in here, but you are the one that had your freedom taken away. It’s not nice waking up early in the morning to sit up and see four brick walls and a bright or dim light and having no privacy whatsoever.
This is not a place of happiness. This is a place of hate and sadness. These walls do close in on you and everyday someone tells you when to get up when to take a shower, and when to go to bed. Please do not come to a place like this. Keep your freedom. Freedom. Freedom!
A lot of lies, the truth is silenced
I really wanna know, who’s behind it The greed feeds, the ruthless violence People don’t care,
All this useless silence
Speak up, get loud
You should try it
The truth is vibrant, it’s time to shut down The stupid tyrant
Because I walk through
Man rooms get quiet,
Speaking my mind
I can produce a riot
A lot of propaganda
And you losers buy it
Wake up world!
The truth is silence
After being in here for a moment, you think about life, about how things could’ve been better if you never made your move.
But it’s different in your cell. As soon as that door closes, there’s like a whole different life waiting for you. It’s like a nightmare because you’re only thinking about how long you’re gonna be in there, how long you’ll be staring at that locked door.
Then boredom hits. Instead of being stimulated, that isolation makes you cry. You think about your mom, about what might be happening to her. When you think about so much at one time, eventually you start to shut down. You can’t sleep. You stare at the walls and they start closing in on you. The space gets tighter, so you talk to yourself inside of your head. After a minute, you start to hit your push-ups. You physically tire yourself out and then you end up passing out.read more
My city cries for help in so many ways.
People think we kill ‘cause we senseless,
but it’s really hurt and pain.
From the outside looking in, people say we’re possessed by evil. But come from where we come from,
we all trapped from our mindset to our freedom.
Look into my eyes, I’m the tears of my city,
I’m the pain and the suffering, I come from the nitty-gritty. All we want is help, we want a lending hand.
We want somebody to care and don’t give up and understand. Don’t judge us from the out, try to nd the inner secret,
We rob and take to survive and live,
no father so money becomes my leader
Oakland, California, the town as you may call it,
I was born and raised, streets full of murderers and cof ns. The cry of my city, a cry of pain and help, don’t judge us ‘Till you walk a mile in our shoes and see what’s up.
Our pain from death of close loved ones,
pain from fathers being absent.
Pain from lack of money and struggle,
The struggle causes us to hustleread more
I used to question life. I used to plot on the lives of others with malicious intent. My own life was a test to see how far I could push myself: how much I could take and how it would change me, to hurt another person, to have low regard for life. How would it make me feel; would I be the same person after that I was before? Would it make me a better person or a worse person? Would I feel sorry or not?
The things I did and things I learned made me the person I am today. The person I am is the person I wanted to be and knew I would become: a strong individual, who can survive when others would die, who could stand in the storm of life (guns, gangs, drugs, death, poverty, prison) and say “you can’t break me”. I am a person who has nothing and still strives to live; who does not fear death; who does things just because I can. The life I lived is what made me the person I am. I’m a firm believer in the idea that what makes you laugh will make you cry. What makes you will break you.read more
I wonder why life is so complicated.
There are so many decisions to make,
so many things to experience,
so many feelings to feel.
Sometimes I wonder if this is all a dream
and if one day I’m gonna wake up
to nd myself in another realm.
Meditating is my way of escaping this strange world. If you are like me, always wondering why,
and you need a way to cope,
simply focus on your breath.
Close your eyes and count with every inhale and exhale. And if your mind wanders off somewhere else, start over. Inhale 1, exhale 2, inhale 3, exhale 4 and so on.
My eyes have been closed for fourteen-years. I am now fteen-years old and trying to get my life together after waking up one day and feeling the heaviest regret ll my heart. This regret came to me like a ashback.
I looked in my mom’s tearful eyes, thought about the innocent people I took from and hurt. I thought about how my persona now is affecting my younger brothers perspective of my life and me. And now how every morning I have to wake up at the crack of dawn to pay the price of everything I put myself and everyone else through. I guess you could say this was part of my wake-up call, the other half consisted of terrible life experiences that just made me think “damn, I really just need to get it together and fast”.
This quote speaks in several different ways, but for me it says, “everyone goes through something, but everyone also gets their wake-up call.”read more
On a rainy Thursday in December my twin brother and I made a decision that we both regret. We’d been smoking and drinking with some girls, and, when we were about to walk home in the rain, my brother said, “Let’s get picked up.” I said, “Nah. Let’s walk. Mom’s probably sleeping.” He called her anyway. Then, when she was on her way, I saw an old “friend” who jumped me back in August. My brother told me not to confront him, but I didn’t listen. I regret that decision every minute of every day.
Being separated from my mom and my little brother hurts my heart. I pray to God a lot, everyday, to forgive me and to let me and my twin brother go home on GPS or supervision. I just want to see my loved ones again. I hope they all forgive me—my twin for what I’ve gotten him into, my mom for breaking her heart and my little brother for not being there to play with him. Every time I call home and hear my mom’s or my little brother’s voice, I cry, asking them for forgiveness. When I get out, I’m going to get a job and turn my life around.read more