Excerpt #3 from i of the Storm

Why have I been chosen, whether by fate or arbitrariness, to suffer these hardships? I am teased by the prospects of what my life would’ve been. These kaleidoscopic thoughts produce a grief I’ve never experienced, outside the death of a loved one. From the plains of this existential purgatory I’m forced to witness the multiple deaths of my future. Therefore this grief and loneliness I feel are a thousand-fold!

Excerpt #1 from i of the Storm

Although my tears are invisible, it doesn’t mean I’m not crying inside. To suffer in silence, out of pride, are the worst tears to cry. Because they’re internal and drown the man’s soul. While he fastly dies on the inside, no one can hardly tell from looking at him on the outside.

All these years I’ve been dying inside of prison with each tic of time. While society seems not to give a fuck. But, while I’m here, I don’t wanna be smothered by my own pain. The winds are too much though. It seems I can’t fi nd an internal pivot (or lee) to shelter my mind from the storm. What can I do?…