Last year I helped over 90,000 Californians and I’m on track for over 100,000 this year. I focus on those people. Not following the rules got me in prison but what better thing could I be doing.
I was on drugs and alcohol which led me to a fatal mistake. I started hearing voices and seeing things that weren’t there.
Art is essential to me; it’s a part of me. Even when I was working seven days a week, I did art. Even when I was working in a garage with cars, I did pin-striping.
I was blind to the harm my actions caused, blind to the criminal foulness that I constantly enforced on others. By the time I got my first gun, I had already become a human monster.
Maybe I was a hateful person, but never more to others than I was to myself. I hated myself so much that I felt maybe prison was the only place I should be.
I shot two men in a Jack in the Box in Waikiki to defend her with the pistol she used to try to save our lives. I’m schizophrenic and my English is not good, but I’m thankful for you.
For seven miserable years I lived my life how I saw fit and turned my back on everything I had ever been taught. My moral compass went completely off the rails. The biggest regret during this time were the choices I made that led to the loss of my amazing and beautiful wife.
My street name is “Sly,” not by gang or negative slang, but because I was caught, at the age of four, trying to scoop out peach cobbler from under the crust, like I saw my uncle do, and got busted by Grandma.
My dad, uncles and aunts were alcoholic, so I followed suit. My mother never drank but had mental issues.
Love is kind, patient, love is with pure intention. Love never gives up, it is our only hope for peace and it should be our mission in life.
I had just walked out of the county jail from doing a possession charge term in Houston, Texas. As I walked up the street, I had no hope left.