Monday, November 09, 2009

man made hell

Sometimes I sit here and wonder where I went wrong. How did I end up in this man made hell? Why? Why did I have to take the path that would lead me to wasting my life? The years seem to fly by; the wasted years of my life.

Am I the type of person who should be hidden from society? How many years of my life should be taken before I am considered reformed? I came here for a violent crime, but deep down inside I know in my heart I'm not the violent type. I've lived the last eleven years of my life with the regret of what I once did in a past life, my past life. Maybe, just maybe, that is why I go so far out of my way to stop the violence in here - to try to right the wrongs I did in my own life.

Now, in here there seem to be two types of people - those who hate me and those who love me. The ones who hate me do so because I don't know how to mind my own business, which means I don't let them prey on the weak. The others - the preyed upon - are just glad to have someone rescue them.

For eleven long years I've dwelled on my past life, my past crime. Was that really me? As I look back on that night in July '98 it really does not seem it could be eleven years that I've had to live with the regret that I let myself harm another human being. As I look at myself today it doesn't really seem possible. I won't even hurt or kill a spider (I have three of them that live in the corner of my prison cell and I feel they have as much right to be here as I do. Maybe even more).

I've suffered for the past eleven years for a crime I've always deemed self defence. But was it really self defence? Could I have defended myself without hurting the other person or am I truly like those other animals I am forced to live with who hurt a person just because they can? I would like to believe that I only did what I did to save myself. But saving myself put me here for-how-long-I-have-no-idea. And when I do get out will I be like so many others and come right back to this man made hell because I now no longer know of another way to live? Has prison changed me so much that I won't be able to adapt back to the free world? Are my fears real or are they just my mind working double time? I guess I'll never know until the day I am finally released from this man made hell



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