Entry #2142

It All Flew By So Fast

It all flew by so fast. I didn’t have that long of a sentence—only six months—but it felt like two. I did three months before I got sentenced, along with my time in here. This journey hasn't been easy in the slightest. For the first three months, I felt like my world outside these cinder block walls was falling apart. I never understood why life seemed to love throwing me curveballs when I wasn’t even out there to catch them.

I also didn’t know how to let go. It’s all coming to an end now, and I still feel like I’m at square one. I juggle a life between two different families, and I struggle with truly wanting to stay sober. I don’t know if I want to do something with myself or go right back to the same lifestyle I had before.

In all honesty, being locked up has just made me more angry at the world. I want nothing more than to kick back, pop some pills, and laugh at the thought of people wanting me to be sober. I hate authority even more now. I want to fail before I even try to do good, just so I can avoid the risk of trying and coming up empty‑handed. I want to push everyone away because I got used to being alone here.

If I don't graduate here, I know for a fact I won’t be going back to high school. I try not to let all this negativity show or ruin my program, but it’s hard. From where I’m standing, it feels like nobody outside these walls really understands what it’s like to live this life. At the end of the day, staff go back to their own homes, and I go back to mine. They can give advice like, “Don’t commit crimes and you won’t have to be here,” but it’s more complicated than that. My life has always been full of responsibilities and struggles that most people don’t see.

I was paying bills to help my family before I was even old enough to have a job. I was taking care of my own dad’s kid because he was never home. I was putting food on the table. I was stressed every day when I was out, and that was one of the main reasons I used drugs.

I still don’t know who to be when I get out because I still don’t even know who I am. I have this hate for society now that I didn’t have before. I got a T.R. on Thanksgiving and found out that not one thing has changed since I’ve been locked up. It’s still the same people smoking the same stuff, going to the same parties, sleeping with the same girls.

They say life gets better, but I say it just gets easier to deal with. I know being sober can’t be that hard, but I hate life when I’m not high. Everything feels so cookie‑cutter, like there’s no uniqueness to anything or anyone.

Sometimes I just zone out thinking about chilling in my room, smoking some weed, and just thinking—not about anything in particular, just thinking. I’m not going to say I’m going to fail when I get out, because I can’t afford failure. But I am going to say there is no way in hell I’m going through life without some sort of substance.

I don’t want relationships with people. No friends, no girlfriends. Sometimes I don’t even want to be around my family. The fewer people you have in your life, the less chance you have to get hurt. If I have to be alone for the rest of my life to avoid abandonment, then that’s how it’s gonna be.

I’m sorry to the people who believed in me, but I’m done with this ****. I’m done.

Entry #2143

The End of Us

I'm glad to say that I'm finally over you. When I was in that relationship with you, I was broken. I hid from you like a little girl avoiding getting beat by her father. In fact, I was still a little girl when I met you. The beginning of us was so perfect. I remember when I first met you, I remember our first kiss, and I remember your handsome smile. I was so happy with you.

Sure, we were addicted to drugs and alcohol, but we were dealing with our ****** up lives and built-up anger together. Then, instead of being angry with me, you became angry at me. You started beating me when you were mad at something. Only the walls in that cramped apartment know how loud I screamed apologies for things I never did.

My friends knew I was becoming depressed and angry, yet I was still so in love with you. I told them, “He’s just going through something, he'll be back to normal soon.” You were my everything. I remember that one time you cheated on me and hit me for asking about it. I stopped speaking up about things and became quiet. I turned to drinking and drugs as a way to get out.

I would look at the girls you would get with for hours. I thought I was too childish for you. You told me to grow up one time when I was crying after you hit me, so I lost that little sliver of the little girl inside me. I burned so many bridges for you. My whole world revolved around you.

I remember when I finally left you — that’s what really changed me. I started doing worse drugs and ended up getting addicted to dope. I started getting locked up. You changed my whole life from the day I met you in 8th grade. I loved you, but I wish I never met you.

I’m glad to say that I'm a different person now, and I will never speak to you again. Have a nice life.

Entry #2144

My Broken Promise

I promised you I wouldn't forget you. I promised that I would carry your memory with me for life. I'm sorry that you had to leave so young. I loved your beautiful tan skin and your amazing smile that made me feel loved. I miss your voice and the way we would laugh on the phone for so long, just talking about life and everything wrong with it.

I promised I would keep your Juice WRLD shirt, and I didn't, and I wish I did because you told me it was your favorite. I promised things I knew I couldn’t keep because I was too busy doing stupid stuff you always asked me not to do. I promised you so much and couldn’t keep it.

I'm sorry. But I promise I will carry you forever. I miss you more than anything, and I will never forget the memories we made together.

Entry #2145

Dear Dad,

This is everything that I never got to say or had the guts to tell you: there were times in my life where I doubted you, simply due to your drug and alcohol abuse problems. But day by day, I chose to stay by your side, even when you made it hard for me to be around you. Deep down, Dad, you really broke my heart from the very start. You never played catch with me, you never really took me to church, and at certain parts in my life, you broke me. I miss you, I love you, but at times I know that I can't be around you. I hope that I can be with you during Christmas, but you know that might not happen since I’ll be on probation. We’ll see though.

Deep down, when we were in New Mexico, I almost saw you die right in front of me, and ever since, I just want to feel your presence. You may know, I’m happy to have you in my life. I chose to keep you around me regardless of your problems, mental and physical.

Your drug addiction was messing you up, and now look at your son. Yeah, he’s locked up. And believe it or not, I made a bad choice. I’m not trippin’ over you—you were acting like a fool, and all the kids in school had gotten real cruel. Well, I shut them up real quick, but it doesn’t matter. All these other incarcerated kids make me go insane. Now I sit in my 10-by-10 cell, dealing with the pain. And believe it or not, it still hurts, and believe it or not, I haven't seen the worst. My life is like an explosion waiting to burst. My pain still kills me, but I shall not show it.

And I say: why did you do allllll the bad drugs and force me to leave so that you could smoke and get high? It is what it is. You can't miss this—your son locked up, caught up in the abyss. Drug or not, you're a fraud, your monster, caught up in my trap waiting to be let loose. And I don’t give a **** anymore. When you're sober, then we’ll talk. Till then, take a walk.

Hope you can gain the skills that you need so that you can be with me.

Your one-time son,

**********

Entry #2146

Keeping Promises

I made a promise to my family that I'm going to use this time as a chance to change. I’ve been in and out of this facility since 2020. I’m fighting some serious cases. If I don't change my ways, I’m going to end up where my family is. I’ve lost a lot of my family due to prison. My little brother just finished a 10-month sentence. It really sucks that I didn't get any of those months to spend with him. I came in here when he only had 2 months left. Now I’m going to lose my last teen years and early adult years in this place.

I feel like my brother and little sister have followed in my footsteps. I showed them a horrible route in life. All I can do now is cherish my memories with them. My uncle gets out of High Desert Prison in a few months. I remember that phone call telling me to keep my family away from this life. It’s no joke—he lost 17 years of his life.

I’m going to keep my promise to my mom, dad, and uncles because I know they believe I can be somebody and not end up the way they did. I’m going to take college classes in here and get a great job working with heavy machinery. Incarcerated life isn’t for anyone. Only God knows what I’ve been through, and I know He’ll help me change my ways.

Numbers 6:24-26: The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace

Entry #2147

A Promise I Told Myself to Keep

The promise I made to myself when I was locked up was to be with him and have a future together. He was the most important person in my life.

I’m here in this pod telling myself that I f***** up because of what I did to my beautiful boy.

I’m sorry. I know you’re mad. You can call me a *** and a *****. You can tell me to kill myself again. It will hurt my feelings, but I still care about you.

I know you’re hurt, and I’m sorry.

Entry #2148

Younger Me

Hey, this is a letter to the younger me. So just listen close so you don’t **** up my life. You pushed away everybody I cared about—friends and family members. You caught so many felonies I can’t even get my record sealed when I turn 18. Like, what were you thinking? I wish you could be in my shoes now so you can see how hard you made it for me.

I remember when you stole those fireworks from your dad and lit that forest fire. That was probably the biggest trouble I got in at a young age. From there, I just started going down a bad path, getting in more and more trouble. Everybody already looked at me as a bad kid.

And then there was that time you stabbed your cousin over a game of Call of Duty. Not a great choice. My dad was pissed, and my cousin had to go into the hospital for a few stitches. If you could just do those two things differently, maybe you wouldn’t end up in an 8x9 cell staring at white walls years later.

Don’t get me wrong—things aren’t all bad. I may get out in a month or two. I’ve been in and out of here since I was 12. Not exactly a fun time, but I’m excited to have freedom again. I think I can do good.

Entry #2149

Getting Out 

I get out a week from Wednesday. I’ve spent seven months here in juvie, but it hasn’t been that bad. Honestly, it’s been one of the best experiences of my life because it taught me more than I ever imagined. I’m 18 now—getting out as an adult—and I’m scared.

I feel like I have the tools to succeed, but I also know how fast everything can come crashing down. Still, I have faith that I’m going to do good and become the person I know I can be, the person I always wanted to be.

From 14 on, I was in and out of juvie, catching charges. Somewhere along the way, I realized I wanted to change. And I have changed. I can do it. I will do it. I know it’s not going to be easy, but nothing good ever is.

What really opened my eyes was seeing a good friend go to jail, losing my connection with my family, and losing someone I love. Hurting the people I care about made me realize what I was doing to myself and everyone around me.

Happiness doesn’t just show up—it’s something I have to work for. It comes from doing things I love, accomplishing things I neva few er thought I could, and reaching goals, big or small. I’m ready to keep chasing that happiness. Everyone deserves it.

Entry #2150

Emotions

I miss when I was a kid, laughing so hard I cried. I used to be free. Now I just go outside for an hour. All the negative influences I thought wouldn’t affect me—they did. I look back and see it. I’m angry like a volcano ready to erupt, a loaded pistol ready to blow, like Usain Bolt lined up and ready to go. I never really took the time to think about it. Looking back, I should have listened. I should have paid attention. I don’t even know how I ended up with the friends I have now or how I got introduced to the set, or to the drugs and guns. If I had to explain it, it’d be like a dog seeing a squirrel and wanting it so bad. That was me. I wanted that life so bad, and I couldn’t get enough. Now I’ve had enough. I can’t take it back or go back. I feel guilty. If I could apologize to my mom, I’d say: “Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t take your care into consideration. I didn’t listen. I didn’t care—but now I do. If I could go back, I would. I’m sorry. If you could hear how I feel, you would cry. If you could see my improvement, you would cry.”

I don’t understand emotions. Why does sadness make you cry and joy make you cry? It makes no sense—like rivals becoming best friends. I want to study psychology to understand how the brain works. Anger makes you yell. Fear makes you yell. Emotions are different but exactly the same. I can’t wrap my head around it. I can’t stand waking up when someone else tells me. I can’t stand having to click a button and give a reason to come out of my room. I can’t STAND it. My routine is the same every day. It’s annoying. It’s repetitive. But I put myself here, and I can’t escape this prison.

I will survive on the outside. I will thrive. I won’t prey like a bird or like a snake. I’ve lost too many people to go back to that life—but I also can’t see myself giving up that life. I’ve earned too much respect. I’ve done too many crimes for the hood. I can’t imagine not having the hood to turn to when no one picks up the phone. My family life is hard. My brother misses me. My oldest sister betrayed me. My grandma hates me. My mom feels she failed me. My dad feels he encouraged me. My cousin feels he influenced me. I feel like I chose it all. I absorbed everything like a plant being watered. I ate it up like a hungry lion, but I deny it all like a violent tornado ripping through towns. No care in the world. No clear way of seeing the world—like a broken telescope. No understanding—like someone in a foreign country without the language. No place to call home. No one to call my own.

Entry #2151

Everything

I remember being full of joy, when my heart belonged to my cheer team.

I remember getting touched by my father—I was only in 5th grade.

I remember when I tried my first drug, oh how it filled my hollowed-out heart.

I remember when I met you, the way you made me feel like the only girl in the world.

I remember when you turned evil—so many screams and tears.

I remember when you broke my heart. I trusted you.

I remember getting locked up over and over again. What happened to me?

I remember getting out of juvie and immediately getting drugs. I just wanted to feel something.

I remember trying dope—oh how I hated it, but I still couldn’t stop.

I remember losing everyone who loved me because of how far gone I was. I wanted to change, but I couldn’t.

I remember everything.

Entry #2152

Dissociation

Dissociation—every day is the same. I feel like I’m watching the world instead of being in the world. It’s been like that for a while now, ever since that day in 7th grade, ever since I got laced. I’d rather be alone. It’s hard to communicate with people, especially people I don’t know. It messed me up a bit. I’ve slowly been getting better, but still, it feels like my soul is out of my  body, and I don’t know if that will ever change. Nothing feels new, and everything is depressing, and the only thing that changes that is substances. But it’s weird, because that’s what started it all—and without them, it gets worse. I can’t sleep, and every day it feels like my soul separates from my body more and more. It’s like I’m watching my life instead of living it.

Entry #2153

Only I Can

ME
People have bullied me, harassed me, manipulated me, and made me feel unsafe.
They made me scared, suicidal, and hallucinate. They made me lose myself internally.
They made me flip out, break down, and lose myself even more.

MYSELF
The only person who can change me is myself. I want to do better for myself and for my family. I’ve tried to protect myself, I’ve helped myself out. I’ve done hurtful things, and I’m not proud of them, but the only person who can make me change is myself.

AND I
Only I can decide to change my life. Only I can decide not to get into fights. Only I can be the bigger person and not yell back. Only I can choose how I respond to situations. Only I can change my behaviors and the way I deal with things.

Entry #2154

New Start

If I were to design my own tattoo, it would be a person walking out of a prison or juvenile hall into a new world. I would want that tattoo right on my back so everyone could see it. It would look like a person just getting out of jail and going back into society.

What this story means to me is that when people get released from prison or juvie—including myself—we all have the decision to do what’s right in this new world, as we would say. Being in jail is totally different from being free. When we are locked up, we are being told what to do, versus when we are out, there is no one telling us what we need to do or what we aren’t supposed to do.

So it is easier to fall back into old habits that land us back in custody. We all have the choice to do what’s right, or simply decide what choice is going to benefit us. There are always consequences for every action we choose to take, good or bad.

Why I would choose to carry this story is that I know what it’s like to be released and fall back into the same habits that land me in the same place. That’s why I would choose a person getting released and walking into a new world—so that person could either make the right decision or keep repeating the same cycle.

Entry #2155

Love Tats

I've been through a lot of sh*t in my life. I’ve cried a lot of tears, broke a lot of windows, ran a lot of miles, and felt a lot of pain. But the worst pain I ever experienced was losing HER.

Her name was Iris. She was small, black and white like an old-fashioned television, with caramel stripes. She had a white star on her forehead. She was so special to me. She would sit with me when I cried. She always knew when I was going through something rough.

Iris wasn’t just a pet dog. She was my sister, my lover, my best friend, and the one special being I could confide in. I could trust her like no other person I’ve ever met.

If I could take one mistake back—one of my biggest regrets—I would look into her big, beautiful, round brown eyes and tell her I love her, and that I wish I could’ve said goodbye. I would tell her I miss her so much and that I hope one day I can come talk to her again.

I would tell her there has never been a dog, person, organism, living thing, or atom ever loved as much as she was loved by me.

Iris, if you can hear me now, I hope you know I love you so much, and that you are forever dear to my heart. I love you, my rough collie baby girl. Always, forever, in my heart.

Entry #2156

City of Broken Bones

I'm a lost boy tryna find myself. I grew up in a city of broken bones, neighborhoods full of broken homes. I remember when I was thuggin’ all alone. My brother started thuggin’—I heard it on the phone. I've been tryna stay out of trouble, but no one’s prone. Stuck up in the cell thinkin’ ‘bout home. But things are different now that my brother’s gone. But I gotta carry on and live my life. Gotta keep walkin’ my path—I’m doin’ right. The streets are cold; gotta keep yo fight. Can’t cuff ‘em, can’t trust them—I’m talkin’ trife.

Entry #2157

Cancer

If there were a tattoo I could get, I would get something for my sisters, and it would be my sister’s last name. I would also put a cancer sign, because they are fighting cancer right now.

I would do one for my grandma too—a big stingray tattoo. A stingray is my grandma's spirit animal, and she has loved ocean animals ever since I was young.

I already have a meaningful tattoo for my grandma: a rose.

Entry #2158

My Belief

I made a promise to my great-grandma that I would always stay faithful to the God we believe in. It matters because not many people in my family believe in the Lord, and because the promise was made on her deathbed.

Keeping it will shape my future by helping me stay truthful and strong in my belief.

Entry #2159

Daring to Dream 

Let’s get one thing straight: I don’t care who you are, what race you are, what culture you represent, or anything else. We all have something in common: we dare to dream big and have goals and careers we want to achieve.

It isn’t the fact that the reason we sit in a cell defines how society sees us. It’s the fact that, as young human beings, we had careers we still might want to continue, and sadly, our mistakes have gotten in the way of that. My family is not proud of me. I don’t care if you’re here or in another hall—I just care about believing that I have the right to express how I feel. Ain’t I right? Yeah, the hell I do. This is 2025. Oh yes, the hell I do.

I don’t get into politics or rights or anything like that. I just believe in the right to love and care for people simply because they are human beings. We all deserve to be respected fairly, regardless of what others think of us.

This is the space and environment where I can gain the proper skills and tools to better my life—for myself and for my loving, caring family back at home. The way my life is currently is good now that people have stopped talking **** to me. I hate that when they act all hard, I react negatively to unneeded comments. But that’s just the way my life currently is.

Entry #2160

Cobra

I would want a snake on my back, in the middle of it, or on my chest. I’ll tell people my story: I don’t trust people—like a snake doesn’t trust people. A lot of people did me wrong, and they’re untrustworthy. So my tattoo would be for everyone who messed me over. It would remind me of my trust issues. King cobras are cool because they kill all the other snakes.

Entry #2161

Dear Ma,
I hope you're doing good. I want to make a promise to you. My promise is that I’m going to get out before I’m supposed to—sooner than my base term.

This promise is important because I want to make you proud. It shapes my future because it keeps me in a good mindset so I can stay on track.