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INCARCERATION IS LONELY
September 19 2011
It hurts to get close to people in here because it seems that every time you get close to someone they disappear from your life. I am so lonely for friendships. People come in and out of here all the time yet I’m the one left behind since I’m the lifer. It’s hard to know who to trust. I reach out to others with the hopes that someone would care about me and I usually get hurt. Or, when I do form a close bond with someone in here, they go home. I don’t hear from them again. I wish that I could be home right now. Each day without my loved ones, another piece of me is torn from my heart. I feel so very lost and alone. Each day is a struggle for me. Will the Parole Board let me go home? Will I be home while my dad is still alive? Will my 2 nieces and 1 nephew ever get to know me? Will I ever be out there with my mom, sister, brother and everyone that I love? I’m so scared that I will be forgotten by others. I might have made mistakes in my life but I’m still human. I pay for the consequences daily for all my mistakes but I’m still someone deserving of love, forgiveness, second chances and understanding. I’m fighting for my freedom here but I feel so very drained by the sadness and loneliness I feel.
DREAMS AND PICTURE FRAMES
July 27 2011
It’s almost midnight on Tuesday, June 28th. I’ve been waking up much earlier than usual all month to follow Casey Anthony’s trial on TV. I’m extra sleepy tonight so don’t expect a literary masterpiece. My mind is racing and I wanted to share my thoughts with you. First I had a nice dream last night but because of that dream all I’ve been able to think about, all day long, are women from my past. Short term flings, one night stands, long term relationships…I believe I’m like many women in that every time I’m with someone, be it for one night or ten years, I feel a strong emotional bond toward them and have a hard time forgetting them. Right now I have two of my former flings in picture frames on my shelf. Both were very casual relationships and both took place while I was married. But I’m staring at their pictures, missing them terribly, imagining what life could have been like with each of them. I want to see them again, kiss them, lie down next to them (or is it lie down?), but sadly my love life is confined to my dreams. Speaking of dreams, I watched the finale of The Voice tonight. Wow…this Frampton girl is unbelievably talented and so beautiful. I really hope she wins. Sadly I’ve depleted my 250 word allowance but I have many more exciting stories to share; really good stories. Wanna hear them? Guess you’ll have to write me!
YOU’VE GOT NAIL
June 20 2011
“Snip, snip, snip, click” then a long pause…I knew that he was thinking, “Oh, no, where did that last toenail clipping go”. A few seconds of contemplation then round two of the snipping commenced. I casually brushed my hand across the letter I was in the process of writing (to one of my pen pals) when I found the evidence…a small piece of toenail from my oblivious bunk mate. I flicked it underneath my bed and continued my letter writing adventure, one sentence at a time, cringing with wretched anticipation with each snip. Are some landing on my pillow? In my coffee cup? Should I speak up? And if so, how would one properly broach the topic of flying toenails? In the end I took a deep breath and swallowed my tongue. I reminded myself, as I frequently do, that I had much bigger problems to worry about (like my pregnant ex-wife, the Lakers being swept in the playoffs by Dallas or, most important, my pending appeal). In the grand scheme of things a toenail is just a toenail.
WARM BODY IN MY BED
February 26 2011
I’ve been sleeping alone for the past three years but awoke to quite a surprise the other night. There’s this old, grouchy guy who wears a diaper. He lives in the cell next to mine. Unbeknownst to me, the diaper guy has a sleepwalking affliction. At 3 a. m. I was sound asleep and the diaper guy walked into my cell, thinking it was his. An eyewitness told me the next day that he stared at my bed while sleepwalking, then dropped his pants and sat directly on my stomach. I immediately woke up, jumped up and said, “What the _?!”, to which diaper boy said, “Oh, sorry, sorry, I thought I was in my bed. I’ll go home”. Since then he’s been too embarrassed to look at me and I’ve had a bit of trouble sleeping, as in the back of my mind I fear being sat on again by a diaper wearing man. Perhaps sleeping alone isn’t so bad after all.
A HOLIDAY IN PRISON
November 23 2010
It’s the night before Halloween and I’m feeling sad. This will be my third Halloween in prison. Holidays in here always seem to bum me out. I remember, as a little kid, trick or treating in the neighborhood with my dad; then, as an older kid, with friends. I was a clown, E. T. and Dracula repeatedly. For some reason, in the 1980’s, it was cool to be Dracula. In college the entire city of Chico parties downtown. They blocked all traffic and it became this huge block party of drunken college students in ridiculous costumes. I was Saddam Hussein in 1992, before he became so hated. The next year I was Beavis and Butthead. My girlfriend wanted to get those Sumo wrestler costumes with a battery powered fan. I spent $200.00 on them and she refused to wear them. She worried it made her look fat. When I grew up I enjoyed staying home with my wife, ordering Chinese food, passing out candy, decorating the house with ugly creatures and spider webs and playing haunted house CDs. Heck, I even miss the trips to Target to buy the candy. Tomorrow will be just like every other day, except that I’m going to buy tons of candy bars from the vending machine and eat them while watching Poltergeist, uncut and commercial free, on my 13 inch TV. I might even give away candy to some fellow inmates. I sure do miss the way things used to be.