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    It is odd, not even, the way our lives are appraised; the mystic granting of dehumanized tactics by a society not our society. So odd, not even- to the point that odd is divided from even, because odd sees no connection to even, and vice versa. Therefore, let an oddity tell you about an odd one, since even has the option to be indifferent about unevenness.

    Terence Andrus was an odd one because he came from an uneven place, and somehow developed strength in his struggle. It is difficult to pin the age that a boy becomes a man, yet simple to pen the age that a boy reckons with manhood’s responsibilities. Whenever T.A. recounted the life he lived growing up, his foundation reminded me of a janga tower: Missing blocks, but stacked amazingly high. In other words, he found a way to grow without the parental support he deserved. So when our conversations shifted to the present day, I noticed a man at the tower-top that was elevated, poetic, disciplined, and gifted.

    The gravity surrounding T.A.’s suicide on January 21st, 2023 was incomprehensible…to someone on even ground. But the combined pressures of incarceration, a looming execution, and inhumane living conditions is gravity for the unevenly grounded. This kind of gravity will never be conducive to natural adjustment; this kind of ground always experiences seismic shifts and aftershocks. I do not specifically know what weight and tremor lynched T.A. from his tower-top, but I do know the weights and tremors of this odd placed called Death Row killed him. [Those even, not odd, know it too. Glimpse how the system failed him: Andrus v. Texas, 1 42 S.Ct. 1866]

    -May the grace of God be with you T.A.. You were my brother in the struggle, and I hope you have peace now.



        Dillion Compton

Polunsky Unit, Livingston, Texas

7 years in solitary / ad seg



February 5, 2023


Photography by TEXAS LETTERS​​


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