Six months ago, I got out of prison.
I wasn’t in for violence or theft — I was convicted under a political article. That label makes it almost impossible to get a job, even though I’ve worked my whole life and always tried to do things right.
Since I got out, I’ve applied to dozens of places, but no one will take me in. It’s like my life was paused and thrown into a corner. But somehow, I kept writing music. I’ve always used it as a kind of escape, a place where I can breathe.
My best friend and I tried to make music before, but life kept pulling us away. We had to help our families, survive, keep our heads down. He also has a serious hearing issue, which makes it hard for him to find work — and he struggles with a lot of self-doubt because of it.
Six days ago, we looked at each other and said:
“One last try.”
And for the first time… something clicked.
We started uploading our tracks. People started listening. Not a huge explosion — but enough to feel something. Like we’re not invisible.
These last six days have been some of the best moments of our lives. We finally feel like we’re doing something that gives us purpose. We’re both 26. Not young, not old. But our dream? It’s living now, maybe for the first time.
I’m not a native English speaker — I actually wrote this in my language and used ChatGPT to translate it as best I could. I just wanted to share it. Not for pity, not for attention, but because I know someone out there might feel stuck too.
If you’re trying something one last time — I hope it works for you too.
And if you made it this far, thank you for reading.