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Thursday, November 14, 2013

Freedom

Freedom has become my enemy. These celled w whollys have become my home. The structure, the familiarity, it?s all I?ve turn inn for the past thirty long time of my life. I am a prisoner, and I belong hither in this forsaken cage. This is what they?ve taught us since the day we stepped inside. We are dangerous. We bang no good. We deserve to be here. This is what they?ve imprinted in our minds, and we started to believe them. We gave up shout out and protesting and got used to the base that this place was home. The letter I got right apart told me I had to leave. A new government policy was merchantmanay to combat overcrowded prisons by letting those who had low-risk behaviour go take in to society. I was minded(p) the chance to walk away(p) free and go keister to the life I only dreamed of returning to. I had always hoped that this day would come, but when it did, I wasn?t greeted by the life I call in. Months had gone by and I had seen how judgemental the macrocosm c ould be. They label you a criminal because you?ve gone to jail. They run away because they think you are a bad person for doing time. tho they acquire?t know me. They wear upon?t know who I am, or what kind of person I ass be. I never knew it would be this hard.
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Everywhere I turn, I would be followed by looks of disgust and stealthy murmurs. I don?t know what?s worse: good hatful thinking bad thoughts about you, or bad gigantic deal trying to physically hurt you. I sit around in my dingy apartment, staring into the old dilapidated fan. Its slow down whirr blades trigger a rush of thoughts and memories. I remember the wickedness that changed my life! . We... If you want to get a full essay, nine it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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