In March 2010, after being convicted of criminal possession of a pistol, Dwayne Carter, a.k.a. Lil Wayne, began an eight-month stint on Rikers Island, where he prayed, worked out, tried to keep his head down—and kept a prison journal.
Day One Up in This Bitch!
I’ve never been one who doesn’t take full responsibility for his actions, but damn, I really don’t deserve this. If I hadn’t traded my blue Marc Jacobs jeans, white polo, and gray Vans for green onesies, I wouldn’t have believed this shit myself.
I had to talk to the prison psychiatrist when I got here. I told her that I shouldn’t be talking to her because I’m not crazy … but I ended up really enjoying her conversation. Is that crazy? We talked about traveling the world, where we’ve been and where we would like to go, BUT both of us were in jail … crazy!
My next conversation didn’t go so well. As I was being led to the captain’s office, I was still just trying to figure out what I was about to go through. As soon as I sat down, his fucking first words to me were, “Don’t fuck with my staff!” Damn! Definitely won’t be getting any celebrity treatment from the captain.
After the captain’s great words of discouragement, I was handed a towel, two sheets, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a green cup. Oh yeah, and a cell, cell 29. As soon as I heard the cell door lock behind me, I just sat on the back wall and the tears began to flow as I took my first glimpse at my new digs: three buckets, one bed, one toilet that was surprisingly kind of clean (emphasis on kind of), a rusty-ass sink with a mirror the size of a small notepad, a desk, and a window. A clothesline was left hanging in the cell. I decided to leave it because I figured it would come in handy.
Welcome 2 Da Family
The guys on my tier made me feel like I was a part of a family … like a brotherhood. I was the new brother and they showed me love just like one. They gave me magazines, tea, some better soap than the prison’s soap, an earphone radio, and extra chow.
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة October 3-16, 2016 من New York magazine.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك ? تسجيل الدخول
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة October 3-16, 2016 من New York magazine.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
Trapped in Time
A woman relives the same day in a stunning Danish novel.
Polyphonic City
A SOFT, SHIMMERING beauty permeates the images of Mumbai that open Payal Kapadia's All We Imagine As Light. For all the nighttime bustle on display-the heave of people, the constant activity and chaos-Kapadia shoots with a flair for the illusory.
Lear at the Fountain of Youth
Kenneth Branagh's production is nipped, tucked, and facile.
A Belfast Lad Goes Home
After playing some iconic Americans, Anthony Boyle is a beloved IRA commander in a riveting new series about the Troubles.
The Pluck of the Irish
Artists from the Indiana-size island continue to dominate popular culture. Online, they've gained a rep as the \"good Europeans.\"
Houston's on Houston
The Corner Store is like an upscale chain for downtown scene-chasers.
A Brownstone That's Pink Inside
Artist Vivian Reiss's Murray Hill house of whimsy.
These Jeans Made Me Gay
The Citizens of Humanity Horseshoe pants complete my queer style.
Manic, STONED, Throttle, No Brakes
Less than six months after her Gagosian sölu show, the artist JAMIAN JULIANO-VILLAND lost her gallery and all her money and was preparing for an exhibition with two the biggest living American artists.
WHO EVER THOUGHT THAT BRIGHT PINK MEAT THAT LASTS FOR WEEKS WAS A GOOD IDEA?
Deli Meat Is Rotten
