Loathe & rage: Personal origins

I{ali Yuga Vikalpa Vikalpa l Loathe & Rage: Personal Origins One morning I awoke to realize that I had intense rage and hatred towards many aspects of my life. This revelation came with the understanding that I live in the most deplorable enviromnent on earth, a maximum-security prison. My seething hatred and simmering rage are caused by the conditions of my confinement. Being physically restricted, being forced to live with people I detest, and having to suffer the loss of self-sufficiency are the causes of my rage and hatred. For the majority of my day, I am physically restricted to a tiny eight foot by five and a half foot cell. The head of my bed is six inches away from my sink and a foot from my toilet; the spray from flushing the toilet gets onto my bed. Three of the walls are made of cold steel and the fourth is made of steel bars, like a cage or dog kennel. When I do get to leave the cell, I only get to move in a tightly controlled manner to another part of the prison. No matter how much I desire to leave the prison, I can never leave. Not only am I physically restricted, I am forced to endure living with people I detest. Everyday I live, work, and eat with murderers, rapists, pedophiles, drug dealers, drug addicts, hoodlums, thieves, womanizers, and all manner of degenerative scum. Most of the people in here are guilty of their crimes. Instead of trying to seek rehabilitation, so many of these people are unrepentant. They openly brag about killing, sexually abusing, dealing drugs, and committing all manner of terror. It is not just their physical presence that enrages me; it is also their olfactory and auditory presence as well. These vile beings produce an overabundance of horrid stenches that constantly poison the air. Tobacco smoke, marijuana smoke, feces, urine, rancid sweat, Vikalpa 2 rotted clothing, and burning oil are just a few of the before mentioned stenches. There is also the constant cacophony of blasting radios, belligerent arguments, singing loonies, crazed ranting and shrieking addicts. Additionally, I have to maneuver around corrections officers that have an intense hatred of prisoners. These officers pride themselves on committing abuses against prisoners and prisoners’ families. They handcuff prisoners and throw them down flights of stairs. They hassle and mock visiting family members. They spread rumors about prisoners within the population, betting on the outcome of the resulting violence. They hire indigent and mentally disabled prisoners to assault other specific prisoners. Those are just a few of the many tactics employed by corrupt officers that wish to do harm to prisoners. Then I also have to live with a complete loss of self-sufficiency. The prison is supposed to provide me with the basic necessities of light, heat, food, shelter, and clothing; but the prison barely meets the minimal standard of care. Prisoners are often left cold, wet, hungry, and in the dark. My labor wages only amount to $3. weekly, leaving me to depend on family support to purchase necessities. This loss of self-sufficiency is dehumanizing. I am often left questioning the value of my life. All of those stressors combined cause me intense rage and hatred. First thing in the » morning when I hear the wakeup bell and the officers yelling at people to “stand the fuck up”, my blood starts to boil. My body starts to sweat; I can feel my heart rate increase significantly. The veins on my chest and forehead expand. I feel the pulsation of my blood; my head throbs in unison. The light starts to hurt my eyes; my ears start to ring. I find myself j ust wanting to scream at the top of my lungs in an attempt to vent all the rage. Vikalpa 3 The hatred I feel towards my life is caused by the abhorrent conditions I am forced to live in. As long as I continue to be physically restricted, forced to live with savages, and continue to suffer the inability to provide for myself, my rage and hatred will always remain.