This was a man on the ascent, a supremely multi-talented, multi-medium artist with the magnetic charisma of Alexander the Great or Shaka Zulu, and his rise from teenage obscurity to rap’s biggest star was as tumultuous and infamous as it was meteoric. People knew he was working towards something great - perhaps even historical - yet his budding superstardom had yet to enter full blossom. He had a pair of gold records, supporting or co-starring roles in four movies that were hits in urban markets, and had begun to be recognized - for better or worse - as the voice of young black men in America. Not yet 24-years-old, Tupac was already a multi-faceted star. So he sat, stewed, barked, raged and grew angrier.
His status as a folk hero, more cause célèbre than celebrity, meant his movements were limited by involuntary protective custody status. Yet here he was: shackled in the chains of Clinton Correctional Facility in upstate New York. He was a man possessed by boundless energy, a person defined by his Faustian hunger for more than mere existence, one who clearly knew he had so little time in this world. 95A1140: 5’11”, 145 pounds, pacing his cell, chain-smoking Newports, devouring dozens of magazines and newspapers and writing furiously in his notebook. On Valentine’s Day 1995, Tupac Amaru Shakur became Inmate No.
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