To whom it may concern, here goes:

I don’t feel guilt over surviving and I don’t accept the false version of myself portrayed by the media. However, there is a tremendous sympathy in my heart over the fact that someone died. Surrendering to the story that painted me as a coldblooded killer feels wrong and insulting. I was there. I know what happened.

The prosecution’s story presented to the jury failed to account for crucial events and my trial resulted in a punishment that I, and others, have a hard time understanding is proportionate. I’ve had to wrap my mind around the proposition that neither my friend’s life nor my own was even worthy of defending. Be that as it may, I feel genuine empathy for the man who lost his life at the bar that night. Irrespective of what happened between us...every human being has their strengths and flaws. I believe that on any other day, that man was a good person and a present father. Although time has tempered the intensity of my hopes to be freed, no laws prevent me from continuing to ask for God’s mercy or hoping the truth will manifest.

Being incarcerated has taught me to rely on the written word. My relationship with hip hop is one of the strongest consistencies in my life. I don’t say that it helps me “ write my wrongs” nor do I generally care much for platitudes, but the perspective I gain from protest music helps me stay connected to my own humanity. Basically, for the last 8199 days, I’ve been stuck reliving the worst night of my life, and music is an outlet that lets me channel my unimaginable frustration. Songwriting is a positive response to my environment, and importantly, 3o2XvG5tit’s a tool I can use to help others feel less alone. Yes, music reflects my story, but also the stories of many others. Stories of people who can’t afford proper legal counsel, stories about getting caught in the cross-fire of political games, stories about families who endure the everyday reality of being separated from each other.

 

After all this time, I’m literally just doing the best that I can with what I have. I know there are some for whom I could never suffer enough. It’s scary to imagine my own lyrics potentially being used against me to discredit my voice or to prove a lack of remorse in an attempt to deny my parole until the day I die.

After 8199 days of incarceration, of solitary confinement, it wouldn’t be uncommon for a man to just accept his injustice and beg for mercy. This is not that. I have and will continue to express regret and empathy for a family’s loss. I personally won’t accept the version of events that correspond to my life sentence. Not just for my benefit, but for all of us to heal. That wasn’t justice then and it still isn’t.

In closing, all I’m trying to express here that my fight for truth and redemption is not intended to minimize your own family’s suffering nor to diminish that man’s good qualities. May God bless you.