The gate swings open and the air rushes over you. I limp forward slowly and look around at the sky. I scratch at my beard that is now turning hues of Gray. I step outside and I am on my own. The grass still looks Green and the pavement still looks rough and dark. Other than that, the world has rushed by me. I have been in a time capsule that lags behind everything else. Behind walls of cement and wrought iron gates, I have lived a life under control. Every aspect of everyday planned out for me, from the time I eat until when I go to bed. Now after 30 years, I am on my own. One random act of violence took my freedom from me and now my freedom is what really scares me. The not knowing what I must do next is disheartening. I am not sure I can make it on the outside. Part of me is terrified and runs back to the iron gates, but another part wants to see what it is to be alive. So I will hobble forward, broken and worn down by doing all of my time. I must learn to live day to day. Life after 30 years behind bars is going to be a challenge, I hope that I can find the strength to move on.