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Home About Us Prisoners of Conscience 2002 - SOA 86 Kelly Simmons
Kelly Simmons PDF Print E-mail
Hey all! As some of you know when we were sitting in jail all i wanted was a journal! And then the guard accidently left his pen with us. So I got inventive and wrote a short reflection on my roll of T.P. I had some requests to share it and have decided to share it with you all. I'm a poor writer and feel that this can even begin to embody what I experenced and what we all did. Like many of you I truely feel that this experence was a gift.
I have learned and grown in ways that i didn't think possible. Of course I still struggle as january 27 comes closer and trying to expain this to my parents but i know what we did was right. Logic only goes so far in justifying actions, even the most rational mind must learn to trust his heart at times like this. It sounds juvinal (sorry i really cant spell) but it just feels right. Stay strong and know the i am praying for all of you.
Thank you all,
Kelly (the loud anoying red-headed college student)

"I may not have talents or skills but I have a voice and I have a will." I sit here in prison wondering why but I know I come wiling use it. To become a lamb and fight for whit those who have not the will or strength. And thus, I sit her writing on toilet paper not because of my opinions which are as they are but form the ones who cannot fight and who need and advocate. I refuse to sit on my ass when I see such beautiful people unable to fight. And so here I am trying to prepare for three months in prison. Experiences here have been beautiful. From this nominal suffering such a such a community has developed, both inside of the jail and out. Voices and song. Voices and pain tan laughter form inside prison walls. They call us prisoners of conscience but we are anything but. We sit here tonight because our minds and hearts are free. We know, as few humans do, that this must be done. We have the luxury of purpose. We have a soul. These people have such selfless love. Fighting the psychological tactics and emotional strain for people they have never met. Yet is this enough? Will it ever be enough? How do I save that life? Clear the fence of the crosses so that the fort will be hope in humanity. So that our hearts can breathe free and live full like those who watch this protest never will know, those that watch the television and say good for them. We hear shouts form the walls outside fortifying the soul. I sit here tonight among the best people in the world. Your soul are the light, the hope this world needs, to stand up, to say NO. That is where I have hope. I am not a person who cries often. Yet, that fence, whited out by the world's support moved me; not because I saw pain, but because I saw hope. Hope that we, you and I can and WILL change the world. "One day" is the cry of the typical American but TODAY and NOW is our cry. So let us not follow, but lead-to peace to safety and need to the world what faces me tomorrow I have discerned and somewhat dealt with but I cannot fathom what lies aherad for those we fight for. To them ours song could mean death, while to us it means only song and possibly conversion in he hears of the guards. The guards bear no guilt, in fact they wish for the same ends we do.
We mean no harm, so why do you, the American government, make us suffer? You will never successfully put us down until we have out goal. To quote a friend when asked why she went this weekend, "I could think of no better way to create the kingdom of God this weekend."


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