Every person in France is fully aware that Bonheur means happiness and well-being. But how does a wretch convicted of a petty crime find happiness or even survival in a prison known for its inhumanity? That place robbed me of my youth, my teeth, and my peace of mind while instilling within me a fierce desire to escape. Though I planned each escape with great care, something always went wrong. Perhaps I was the sorry victim of a malicious destiny. If so, that mysterious force, was up against the resilience of the human ...
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Every person in France is fully aware that Bonheur means happiness and well-being. But how does a wretch convicted of a petty crime find happiness or even survival in a prison known for its inhumanity? That place robbed me of my youth, my teeth, and my peace of mind while instilling within me a fierce desire to escape. Though I planned each escape with great care, something always went wrong. Perhaps I was the sorry victim of a malicious destiny. If so, that mysterious force, was up against the resilience of the human spirit, its power to endure. More than a few times I survived soul-shattering solitary confinement to run as fast and as far as I could. I had little muscle compared to the hulking convicts in French Guiana, but we all know strength is not defined by muscle alone. My narrative speaks of desperate attempts to escape the oppressive heat, horror, and corruption of the prison colony the French called Bagne de Cayenne.
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