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On any given day upwards of 1.9 million people are locked up in the United States, so I’m surely not the only one who feels so … alone. But, since feelings aren’t something we talk about here in prison (when we actually do talk), I can only speak for myself. For the last month, this institution has been on lockdown (due to a large fight with weapons, a fairly common occurrence here), so I’ve been in a six-foot-by-nine-foot concrete box 24/7 with nobody to talk to but myself, and I’m not very good company. The fact that I’m even speaking to myself, given all I’ve put me through, is a testament to … something. Henrik Ibsen said that “the strongest men are the most alone.” Well, call me weak because it seems I need people. I need someone to talk to outside of these walls, but how? Where?
Where does a convicted bank robber find a friend in the free world?