by Ross Ulbricht It is finally starting to sink in that I might be here in federal prison for a while. I just started my 9th year of life without parole. Decades of incarceration stretch out in front of me. As I face that future — my eventual old age…

By Ross Ulbricht During the last extended lockdown, I got bored and made up a little turn-based pen-and-paper game called ORB. In it, you are the head of an interstellar corporation. You explore worlds; gather resources; manufacture materials, components and systems; and build farms, factories and space ships. It’s super…

Por Ross Ulbricht English version here. Algo especial sucedió en el primer año más o menos después de que Satoshi nos dio Bitcoin, algo que nadie esperaba y que muchos pensaban que era imposible. Trata de imaginarte a Bitcoin en ese tiempo, antes de que hubiera un precio de intercambio…

by Ross Ulbricht It has been a few months since we auctioned off my art at Art Basel. The sale has definitely changed things. Options that were beyond our reach before are now possible. We can look more broadly at making the whole system just, rather than focusing just on…

By Ross Ulbricht Suddenly everything changes. Not only was the NFT auction a huge success, but now there is a FreeRoss DAO. I quickly found out things have grown beyond my capacity to control or even influence. I simply do not have the communication bandwidth. By the time my letters…

Por Ross Ulbricht (2018) English version here. El 8 de octubre del 2018 cumplí cinco años desde que fui encarcelado. Mis entornos físicos hoy son irónicamente similares a los de mi arresto inicial en el 2013. Estoy en el SHU de nuevo (Unidad Especial de Vivienda por sus siglas en…

by Ross Ulbricht My future died that day in court when I was sentenced to life without parole. When I got back to the federal detention center, I did not go straight to my cell block as usual. This time, I was interviewed first to judge whether I was suicidal…

by Ross Ulbricht I awoke in the fetal position with the sheet wrapped tight around me. My hip bone was sore where it pressed through the thin mattress to the metal bunk, but it wasn’t that — nor the ever-present fluorescent light — that woke me. The top of the…

by Ross Ulbricht I’m turning 37, my 8th birthday in prison. I guess this means I’m in my late 30s now. Is there any significance to this? Our Earth is in roughly the same position it was when the little creature that would one day become me took his first…