More than a week ago I was transferred to another prison for reasons that are beyond me. With seven months remaining before my release date I have been uprooted and placed in an entirely unfamiliar environment that is drastically worse in nearly every single way. For the previous three weeks before being transferred I was finally given an opportunity to participate in some resemblance of rehabilitation through classes on transitioning back into society. Even that is gone now. For more than two years my life has only worsened. Through an entire three-year plea deal I am finally ensured to receive absolutely no formal rehabilitation on behalf of the state, the country or the many people who have in some part enabled my enslavement.

This is clearly an adverse transfer regardless of the bureaucratic rhetoric stating otherwise. The silver lining is that I am sure God wants me to experience the waste, dysfunction, misery and corruption of the imprisonment industry. I am miserable and enraged, and I believe with more certainty and conviction than ever that I am being allowed to endure this incredible human tragedy so that I can help fix it somehow, and in doing so help the countless people whose lives are ripped apart by it.

Currently I am being warehoused like livestock on a slaughter ranch or a shelf item on display for purchase at some home repair store. In an open room with more than 200 other human beings, I have no personal space or privacy, no electronic resources and no outward incentive to improve myself or my situation. The correctional officers are yelling over the loud speakers and televisions are blaring constantly, people are walking around half naked and I am forced to shower and use the restroom in full view of the entire building. This is hell. Animals shouldn't be made to suffer a quality of life this putrid and infernal.

Yesterday I attempted to file official documentation in the hopes of acquiring a bed move to a quieter and less vulnerable area of the building. While filling out the form one of my few hundred fellow inmates took it and started writing on it to mock me. After patiently laughing it off and completing another form, I asked a correctional officer to sign it as part of the submission process. He became upset and assured me that his superiors would only laugh at me as he has, and he basically refused to receive the request without actually having to say so in as many words.

Today I met with a psychologist regarding my need to move beds. She quickly determined that my situation was legitimate and that my current bed location was inappropriate given my extensive traumatic background. She called "The Sergeant," and informed him that I was in need of a move. I could hear him on the other side of the phone giving her a tongue-lashing for trying to help me. That was several hours ago and nothing has changed. I am so sick and tired of the "cops" laughing at our dire infirmities like blood thirsty packs of hyenas and only wanting to see the inmates shamed and suffer at every turn.

It is cowardly, absent-minded, soulless and cannibalistic for people to have this plenary power over other people and to find such sick and wicked pleasure in tearing at them to their utter torment and destruction. The prison business appears to be an economic and social safe haven for sociopaths and there seems to be no good example for the prisoners to follow in large part because the imprisonment employees are so often underdeveloped emotionally, morally bankrupt, spiritually unaware of the weight and range of their privilege, uneducated and have no vested interest in actually helping anyone but themselves. Everyone is just doing their job, which consists primarily of hunting, capturing, caging, corralling and breaking people like animals for vastly inordinate financial gain. The bar should be so much higher and while it isn't, the average prison guard, administrator and the like are in all reality a part of the problem instead of the solution.