I’ve never been a person to believe in much of anything, but the past few weeks have shown me how real life can be. I started the next level of my journey to find Truth in prison due to an incredible individual.

Brandon Bautista—or “Domi,” as we call him—is a Dominican from Philly and one of my best friends here. We shared an experience, not of the world as most people know it, about a week ago, and since then I feel like my eyes have been opened to a lot of new things I didn’t know about life. We also connected on a creative mission that we both know one day will be known by the whole world. He’s an incredibly talented musician who finds another level of connection with this universe as he finds the vibrations to make his beats and receives the inspiration for the words he chooses to use. The craziest part is that he does this all in Spanish, a language I don’t understand at all. What I do understand is the realness his energy exudes because I feel the same way when I write.

It’s hard to explain in words that knowing every word I write is inspired by a force greater than myself. I just know that I was put on this earth to write words because they are what last the longest. I‘m here to tell a story, to explain what I learn about this world in words. Domi was the vessel chosen to explain the basics to me, to show me how little I really know about the world. There are truths out there that aren’t written down. They’re passed down from generation to generation. Americans think they know everything, that our military superiority is all that matters. Humans have spent their entire existence making up words like spirits, souls, witches, brujas, God, Satan, and religion to explain the meaning and purpose of life. I do believe there is a greater force, or energy, that we’re all a part of. Everything is real in its own way, but sometimes it gets interpreted wrong. The universal language is vibrations, and the connections we share with one another and our world live on for eternity. I know that although I’ll never see Domi again during my time in prison, I’ll still feel his presence and inspiration in everything I write.

I won’t see Domi again in this setting because he was stabbed last night. While getting a hair cut, another inmate put a shank through his eye. I didn’t see it happen, but I did witness the aftermath. His eye was gone, just a hole with blood gushing out of it. The only thing I can think of to describe the scene is like watching a horror movie in real life. He wasn’t screaming for help as I certainly would have done; he was calm and collected, but I could also sense a bit of shock. I have no idea what it was really about. Everyone has multiple sides of who they are, different energies they experience and give into. I have no idea what he did or if he did anything to provoke such a terrible action. I know he isn’t perfect—none of us are. I don’t know the guy who did it.

I have found myself in prison. I have found myself because of the people who’ve been placed here with me. If I was given a button to go back and never come here, I wouldn’t press it because I don’t think I would’ve ever learned the lessons I have here on the outside. As much good as I have acquired through this experience, last night taught me that this really is dangerous.