....if only I had a dictionary and thesaurus

February 17, 2011

“It’s like so much of the world has ignored me, left me for dead…for me this is a rebirth.”

8:18 p.m.

I’d been awaiting word from you and growing concerned every day that passed. Sometimes it takes your letters to the third day form the post date to arrive, sometimes a week. Of course, I don’t think that the postal system is that inconsistent. It’s a good bet that the mailroom sits on mail when they don’t feel like dealing with it. You can imagine how much they have to sort each day on a 3,300 man unit.

Today though, I could sense your letter coming. I’m always excited to hear from you but this time was different. The level of excitement was elevated….this whole ordeal is like embarking on some special journey, venturing onto new and unexplored territories. Again, I can’t thank you guys enough!

It means a lot to me that you not only take time from your busy schedules to read my letters and to respond, but also that you enjoy them. Really, for my words to bring even the smallest pleasure is something magnificent!

If I sound “great” it’s because that’s how I feel! I mean, I’ve been so wired, so productive, dreaming and positive. This means more to me than I thought I would. It’s like so much of the world has ignored me, left me for dead…for me this is a rebirth. I get to prove to myself and them that I’m still very much alive.

Even after giving it considerable thought, I decided that the state of Texas will not rob me of my identity. Jason Renerd Hall is who I am, I lost him for a while, but he is who I am, and I am he. I have the freedom of expression and free speech, they can’t have that.

Yes, we spend entirely too much time locked down. This warden is so full of it. Fortunately, I’ve been able to write myself silly and have not really given the lockdown too much attention. As long as I have food, soap, deodorant…I’m okay. I wish I’d stocked up on paper as I’m getting low. Worse comes to worse, I’ll trade some food for paper. Really, really wish I could get my mom to be more supportive. Those journal style notebooks would be ideal. She’s been sending some from Office Depot for three years now. I have not heard from her since the mid-December visit. Sometimes…I don’t know, sometimes I wish I didn’t love her so much, then she wouldn’t have the power to hurt me the way she does. Maybe I’ll write about it? Right now it’s spoiling my mood.

Anyhow, you say you admire my spirit and my creativity, and I blush. I wonder what state I would be in if not for your continual kindness? You inspire awe in me on a regular basis. Maybe one day I can emulate you and help a total stranger turn his/her life around. I know, I know, you won’t take all of the credit, but you should. Look what I was doing with my talents and potential before you.

Most of the stuff I cook comes on commissary. I think you can go to the TDCT website and see what they sell. The other things like seasonings and fresh herbs come from the kitchen or the gardens. The chicken breast comes in a pouch, the beef tips are also packaged.

Oh no, I didn’t mean for you to research the things I asked you about. Nooo, you do too much as it is, I just thought maybe you’d know about some of it. It was just stuff I came across in my reading, nothing important. Forgive me for sounding shallow, but I’m definitely not interested in the trans-sexual. (referring to Trinidad, Colorado)

Yes, your husband has lived the life of a captivating storyteller. Unfortunately I’ll one day have plenty of stories to tell about this place and the streets, but I’ll be creating new stories as well. Your husband is a great inspiration! I’ve not even begun to read his newest blog. I’m writing until I lay down to sleep so I can read, then perhaps dream of places my body has never been but my mind is free to explore.

A book I read and talked at length about was on how strict Hong Kong’s custom agents are. I can only imagine your panic and excitement. Yes you are lucky to have him and I’m sure he knows he’s lucky to have you. What you two have is something that is unheard of in the day and age, it’s beautiful really. Today’s society treats loyalty as if it were a sin. Loyalty is no ever expected in a marriage anymore, really, it’s sad. I wonder if I’ll ever marry again, or would I be better off single? I mean, I don’t want any of that trash! I want a woman who respects me, who shares some of my interests, who doesn’t need women and multiple men to keep her happy. Your relationship is inspiring, too.

Now, on to the blog content. Before I get into it all, forgive my spelling. I swear, as soon as possible, I’m going to buy a dictionary, a real dictionary. I asked my family for the New American Heritage Dictionary in 2007. Still waiting. And it only cost $4.99. So if you’d send me the info for Dell Books, I’ll order it myself. A lot of times, I won’t use a word I want to use because I’m unsure of the spelling. Going to buy a Thesaurus, too.

Okay, okay, content. Basically I just wrote from the heart, took a mood or feeling and ran with it. This is all so new and foreign. I wasn’t sure how long was too long and how short was too short, so I just used your husband’s as a sort of guideline. It’s just my thoughts, where they start and where they end. I’m sending a few.

Love,

February 23, 2011

“It’s really important that my kids…not just my kids, many people have a chance to see who I really am, beyond this stigma and my mistakes.”

10:38 p.m.

And here I was not expecting a letter from you until next week! What a pleasant surprise! Still, I find it hard to believe that it takes the mail seven days, especially when I sometimes get your letters in three days. Ah, but why dwell on the negative...I’m bless to have you in my life. The joy you brings makes many things seem like just mild annoyances.

You really are phenomenal! When you suggested using the letters, (for the blog) I don’t know, I kinda brushed the idea aside because the thought of my letters struck me as boring. Then I get your letter today and I see the genius in it. The whole idea, the way you broke it down, introduced it, the total package. I sat there reading my own words, captivated.

Thank you for the printouts. I love history when it’s rich and entertaining. About the books, usually they have to be sent from a bookstore of the company (they’re real picky). But I don’t know about your situation. After all you do publish books. I can’t be sure. I can only suggest calling here, trying to find someone competent enough to speak to and seeing what they say. Sorry. As much as I’d love to get books, I’d hate to have to send them back because people are so stupid. “Sure, cell phones are fine, but God forbid someone receive a book!” Idiots.

Do let me know what you need of me and I’ll do my best to make it happen. I’m still waiting to hear from my mom and my aunt. My feelings get hurt far too often by people I love. Sometimes it seems as though it would be easier to not even care. I am who I am though. Caring is in my character and it’s not like I’m wrong to want to be loved back, right?

Anyhow, I worked out hard today and my eyes are so heavy. Look forward to hearing from you next time!

Warmly,

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The Wrong Man for the Job

I’m not adverse to proper.  Proper speech, proper posture, proper behavior… There’s a proper place and time for everything.  But sometimes, sometimes wrong just feels so right.

In this place, wrong spawns unchecked, destroying everything it touches like an evilly mutated curse of Midas.  And I try my damndest to steer clear of all sources and surfaces of debilitation. 

In this place, it is rare to encounter truly good people.  I don’t mean altar boys convicted of crimes they didn’t commit.  I’m talking about good people, folks with hearts of gold who made copper choices. 

Within these walls are Bible toting evangelists who’ll stab and push your spleen through your back.  Also dwelling within these walls are stone cold murderers, inked head to toe, whom command respect with bearing alone, who pray in secret—humbled by the forgiveness of a higher power, who will fight when threatened, give to the cold the shirt off their backs, and feed the hungry their last spoon of food.

The first man is a poseur, a fool foolishly attempting to fool He who cannot be fooled.  And the biggest fool of all is the fool that follows the fools, so I avoid those types.  The second man, the man you would no doubt label a “thug” on sight, is a man of virtue.  He is my peer, for it is my perception that the blind man who gains sight is of higher value than he who pretends to have sight, shouting directions into the crowd.  The blind leading the blind.

Yes, the repentant killer is who inspires hope in me, that one can sink so low and still rise up.  Kindred spirits, no?  Because of my past, I too will be labeled and stigmatized.  He and I though, with blueprints to build highrise positives and grand productivities, will cross the Statistic River, and transform from “niggas” to enigmas.  Go figure. 

What?  Are you offended?  Please.  Maybe my words are too strong to belong outside of a rap song.  Noo, sometimes wrong is right when wrong makes the statement right won’t make.

Forsake, shake and fake, you live like a fraud. While I keep it real, like I do with God.  By God, you are blushing, hushing my soul?  With the lie that you live and the lies that you’ve told?  That’s cold.

See, I’ve sold enough dope and I’ve shot enough guns, kissed the darkness then chose light for daughter and son.  No more rear view mirrors, no life on the run.  I know who I am now, who I hope to become.  Manifested through lessons of desperate and dumb, realize I’ll move mountains by flexing my thumb!  Not defiant, a GIANT, blessings add to my sum.  Hey, I once was a bird brain, pecking, chasing the crumbs, now awakened and breathing, I am “Jason the Lung.”

Refreshing.  Undressing the wolf in sheep’s wool.  Not worthless.  My purpose?  Divine’s mighty tool.  While you frown and you sneer “he’s all wrong, he don’t fit.”  Since we be’s speaking slang, you ain’t right about shit.

You’ve missed my whole meaning, with a message so strong!  If you’d open your eyes, you’d see right comes from wrong.  See, I’ve been where you’re headed, truth is, I wrote the book.  Went from child to buck wild, crazy crook to great cook.

Accused to accomplished, condemned to complete, use the doubters as steps to success from the streets.  And I wear my wounds proudly, my war cry, my song.  I’ve found me, raw and righteous, now who’s right and who’s wrong?

Joining, coming together, meeting of the minds, do you mind? Mind?  Mine.