Homeless at the age of 17, I made a conscious decision to start selling crack.
Thoughts and images of me getting rich buying mansions, jets, and yachts never crossed my mind. I sold crack for a hotel room every night, fast food daily, and a coat for the upcoming winter. I can honestly say I only hustled to get my basic human necessities.
But in no time I began to participate in the other aspects of criminal activity that goes along with selling crack. Eventually my whole existence existed in a small area of town where tomorrows don’t matter, only the moment. My universe consisted of several blocks and everything within that radius, locked in a world totally oblivious to the rest of the planet. My twisted route to economical independence and freedom lead me straight to prison.
Six months after I got to death row, my world became even smaller. The solitary confinement cell was about eight steps front to back and two steps from bunk to wall.
A metal sheet with little holes covered the window; my view was the words and pictures written and engraved all over the wall. The floor was caked up with who knows what. It was infested with so many roaches it made my skin crawl. People yelling to and at each other, people kicking their door, people at war with one another, their weapon of choice feces. I was in a real shit hole.
But I was able to escape! To a place where I would never be found. Where the people informed me at every turn. My newfound freedom had me globetrotting in and out of different time zones, starting new chapters.
It was books that removed me from the room, redefining space and time, making me subject to places and people I was reading about.
While I was trapped in this living hell, talk radio was my ear to the streets, reporting the world news directly to me in the cell.
Merging the historical record with current events is what created my global perspective. Books and my little AM/FM radio were like having the world in the palms of my hand. Watching the world turn while listening to the voice of the people, I realized regardless of personal experience or your place on earth, there is only ONE struggle. It looks unrelated because it is different aspects in varying degrees, but we are all chained and shackled to a man-made malevolent machine that profits off the masses’ blood, sweat, and tears.
In society I was too blind to recognize it. The block mentality blocked off my mind’s unlimited potential to know. Then I got locked up and put on lockdown where the power of knowledge unlocked my mind’s eye.
Being able to see the global community interconnection and collective destiny makes me obligated to do right by the people. Having a vision of making the world a better place is a superpower that strengthens my humanity in this dehumanizing, inhumane, artificial environment.
As we all do our part to resist and dismantle the system that means us harm and holds us captive, I will continue to be optimistic in my struggle, wrestling with life without parole until it is overturned and I find home.
Internal and Eternal Universal Love To All Peace
Written by Quintel
