This letter was written by a person incarcerated at Salinas Valley.
April 20, 2021
There’s a lot of people in prison. From all different likes. Prison is a riot. Like a screaming eagle or a bat out of hell. Most men think. Some don’t. Teardrops lace the eyes of a man that tells no tales. Cereal for breakfast, riot at chow, fist fights full of hand grenades that make your nose bleed.
So much crime, so much grime. The wait is enormous. So much grief. Many men have died for their sins, but I choose to ride for my sins. Gunshots ring in the apartment complex, two bodies, two innocent lives lost. One man goes to jail. Never to return. The stories are endless.
So much pain. The preacher’s wife. Bacon in the morning. Dead in the afternoon. No one likes a killer. Me, I’m a crook. Living like a caged animal, mutilated my skin with mob life tattoos and an I don’t care attitude. Agent’s my game, God is King.
Mechanical nightmares and high O2 octane jet fuel makes your heart rate go sky high. Many men think things through, but we don’t in prison. The coronavirus isn’t pleasant. Sometimes people try to forget, because death is unpleasant. We’ve been doing this to each other for centuries.
It’s not a safe and habitual experience to be locked in the cell all of the time. Nobody likes to be a guinea pig. My college work has slowed down drastically. Just kidding, I start Spanish class next month. I love Spanish.
Since being down, education has been my priority. I learned a trade. I am a born-again craftsman, and a handyman through [redacted]. Thanks to my teacher, [redacted] I learned a lot and I can’t wait to get out in the field. I love building houses.
It’s a good living and a good earning of a living. It teaches you a lot about God and religion and Jesus. We’re all interconnected in prison. It makes us stronger. So I like the virus and I’m proud to be a part of it.
I am real. There is no fake in me. I’ve spent a lot of my time in my cell. When I think about the coronavirus it makes me hungry. We all in prison are people who’ve made mistakes, but coincide with each other and live together. To be continued.
