While incarcerated I realized that it didn't matter if I ever actually prayed. Just as I put my foot in my mouth I began to understand that we couldn't have stayed. When I tried to find the right person I found out that they didn't exist. Someone told me that if I committed suicide I probably wouldn't be missed. I was perplexed because it wasn't all that she said it would be between the sheets. With her I am constantly oppressed to not have a home while staying alive in these streets. It's still hard to swallow that there's no justice for us righteous of men. It's sad that I am living proof that evil is what wins in the end.