I watched a man leave Killer-K to go home today... 

Seven years in here and he's making it out in one piece. I envy him. Needles is the next to leave and mother fuckers in the unit are upset. He is the best tattoo artist in the pen. I like the kid a lot. He's white, about 5 foot five and he keeps his hair long. Long hair in the pen is not really a good idea, because you're just giving the booty bandits a reason to fuck with you. Maybe it's because long hair is associated with being feminine...

Anyway, Needles is one of my main mans. I fuck with the kid because he is always cracking jokes and keeps your boy laughing. I like his vibe. Needles says he has to complete almost 23 tats in 17 days. I can't imagine going home in 17 days. What does it feel like? Is Needles nervous, scared, anxious? 

Needles beat me in Scrabble today. I had one tile left and Needles had four.
We were playing for the $675,000.00 dollars he owes me. (Only payable if one of us hits the lottery.) I was up almost a million dollars just last month. I knew he had a "C" in his hand because I put it back in the bag. There was no space on the board to get rid of the "C" so I knew I had his ass, and I told him so. He said, "If you're so sure bet it all!" You know me. "Fuck it, it's a bet nigga!" 
This mother fucker lays down "CWM" What the fuck kind of word is "CWM"? I add up his points and he's beating me by nine. If I challenge I'll lose a turn, but there is no way for me to score 9 point or better with one tile. I challenge and sure enough the mother fucking word is in there. Needles is so happy that he won he does a little dance that has my black ass laughing so hard I forget I'm in jail. I hate to admit it but I'm gonna miss this nigga.


I was born addicted to heroin...

My mother is a junkie. As a child I prayed my mother would die. Not because I hated her, I just hated seeing what this drug was doing to her. In my younger years I was shuttled back and forth between my mother, Zenee and my grandmother, Thesia. I dreaded leaving my grandmother to go back to my mother. Once, when I was six my mother left me and my 3 year old brother inside of a dope house for two days. I remember it clearly, because I felt so helpless. My brother kept repeating over and over, "I'm hungry, I'm hungry." We got water from a leaking fire hydrant outside of the the abandoned building we were left at, but water does nothing for a hungry belly. I decided to take matters into my own hands. I walked with my brother to the corner store and stole four Slim Jim. It was the first time I had ever stolen anything in my life. I felt bad, but I figured G-D would forgive me.  I thought about going to the police, but nobody wants to be the cause of their mother going to jail. My brother ate three Slim Jim and I ate one. My brother fell asleep on the hard floor shortly after, but I couldn't sleep no matter how hard I tried. There were roaches all over the place and it smelled like piss. Why is this happening to me I asked? A couple of hours later a fight broke out between two dope fiends. The female I knew by name.... Candice. The man she was arguing with was unknown to me, but by the time it was all over the man had stabbed Candice in the neck and I knew it was time to get out of there. These are my earliest memories of time spent with my mother.

Zenee wrote me today. She is dying. She has AIDS. The last time I spoke to my mother I had just turned 12 years old. My last words to her were, "Never fucking speak to me again." I gave my WORD to myself that I would never speak to her again as long as I'm alive. My WORD is my BOND and I have never broken it and I'm sure not gonna start now. My family has begged me to make peace with her, but I refuse. My mother is dead to me, but my WORD and my BOND are very much alive.