This letter was written by a person incarcerated at SATF (California Substance Abuse Treatment Facility and State Prison).
From battling within the court system, I am now in face of a new trial. So accustomed to seeing what challenges lay before me. Now being threatened by an invisible combatant labeled by a name that evokes a myriad of emotions called COVID-19.
I suffered from crippling anxiety, paralyzed by possibility, clinging desperately to a hope of “I’m OK, I wont get sick.” Watching fixated staring at the population throwing caution to the wind. And boomeranging back is the boisterous echoes of coughs, and dry heaves. Can I point fingers and cast blame? Now I only commit myself to introspection. I’m in the belief of this is a sense of divine intervention.
As I have watch my world crumble, I know see the society I fantasize about crumble. I wonder as I stare to grey slated walls that are blanketed in darkness. That has illumination graced to the minds and consciousness of the public. That this virus has now made you prisoners of your home.
Alas here is forever blooming like the flowers of spring arising from the buds of winter. So smile brightly as the sun at its zenith and reflect upon the strange epidemic that has affected human existence. In crisis we stand stronger, love harder, and become smarter.