Exactly like in the movies, I crossed the lines on the wall, each mark a testament to the passage of time. I did push-ups—700 in a single day. I worked out with the African dudes, shared food with the Mexican "Primos." I learned immigration law, navigating the complex web of survival. I became a translator in Spanish, Portuguese, and French, mastering languages as a tool for survival and connection. I had to learn all the codes—those for drugs, fights, and gangs. I absorbed the hierarchy of the streets, where Latinos don’t mix with Blacks or Whites. Separate TVs. Separate worlds.

"Gay for stay"—the term for those who became gay while in jail. I met people who had spent 12 years in the Feds. I witnessed people getting high behind bars. If they offer something "for free," you better know—nothing in jail is truly free. If someone gave something to you and you accepted it, it meant you owed respect, a debt of honor, a binding tie.

They sent me to solitary, "the hole." According to them, "I was manipulating a WHOLE JAIL BLOCK." Dude, can you imagine? BOSS! In the second jail, I achieved the highest position as a worker. Damn! The guards, we called them C.O.s, brought me extra food, most of the time from outside.

They sent me to hell, and I died. Oh, I fucking died, every single day, and I was reborn every single morning. Living that life, living in hell, 578.30 days in hell, 72 of them in solitary confinement. I fought. I had to stand my ground.

But all this only started after I was raped in jail. I was fucking raped. No one cared. Move on. GOD BLESS AMERICA. So I learned. I devoured books, absorbed knowledge, took every class I could. I meditated for hours, fasted for days. No one cared. So I moved on. I emerged from jail with a completely different mindset. I changed as a person and as a citizen. Thank you, America.

Oh, did I mention that I got out of jail without spending a single cent? Or that I got my green card? Oh, Darling, and they’ll say it’s LUCK.

Jail, to me, was the most horrific and yet most enlightening experience of my life. It was like tasting the forbidden fruit, embracing the fall from grace, and walking the path of the Morning Star. I was cast out of paradise, but in the descent, I found a new kind of Eden in the ashes of my former self. In that darkness, I realized the truth: it is better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven.