Jason describes being lonely

March 30, 2011  11:09 p.m.

Went on lockdown today for about seven hours.  Apparently, some dude tried to escape or was just out of place on another cell block.  Should have escaped, because he’s out of there.  Gonna get this letter to you.  Smile.

Sincerely,

March 31, 2011 11:58 p.m.

(Yawn)

Hey lady!  How are ya?  Another super long day, like the third or fourth in a row.  The good news is I’ve been productive.  The bad news is that I can’t see when I’ll get a break.

I have not even worked out but once this week, not only because it’s been cold, but I just have not had the time or energy.  So much to accomplish, so little time.

Received your letter, which I’ll get to in a moment.  Thanks, as always for making time for me!  Trust me, I understand.  I’m so sleepy I can’t wait to stop and let slumber overcome me.

Business is booming, of course, missed my exam yesterday because we were locked down, now I’ve got to study for two tests because I’m sure that we’ll have to take them both to catch up.

I started rewriting the book.  Whew, talk about punishing.  My hand is screaming!  Then making subtle changes and choosing better words makes it slow work, but I’m up to it.

Happy you were happy to hear from lil’ o’ me.  It is a lovely exchange, isn’t it?  Swapping joy on paper.

You are right.  Everyday, instead of getting harder, it gets easier to resist temptation.  Sometimes though, what stops me from acting is seeing it all play out in my mind.  Staying focused on the goal line keeps things in perspective.

Yeah, seeing my brother was cool and long overdue.  He writes once every two or three months, but never with all the drama, just laughs and encouragement.  He is the king of sarcasm.

No surprise that you guys are working your tails off.  The diligent worker reaps the benefits of a plentiful harvest.

Your computer sounds like a disgruntled employee.  Just won’t give you a break, will it?

I’m so blessed to have you guys!  I don’t have the patience for data entry type stuff, like spread sheets and what not.  I know that dealing with formats and errors and blue screens would drive me up a wall.

I don’t so much mind hand writing, it’s my handwriting I mind.  The more thought I give it, the more it looks like scratch.  If ever my financials increase dramatically, I may need to go ahead and purchase a typewriter so that I don’t worry your eyes too much.  Who knows what the future holds?  But that’s later on down the line.

The news about the screenplay is awesome.  Definitely something to pray and hope for, but I’m not expecting anything.  Not yet.  We’ll get there.

Funny you’d bring up the legal pads.  These people are trying so hard to keep that paper, it’s almost funny.

I wrote and asked how much it would cost.  They answered $21.20.  So I wrote and asked what the procedure is.  They wrote back today and said that I’m to send the stamps to the mailroom with the sending address and they’ll paper and send it for me.

Now, so much is wrong with this.  One, the maximum anyone can buy at commissary is 30 stamps.  $21.20 would be like, 50 stamps.  This means that I’d have to buy 30 stamps, then go back in two weeks and 20 more just to send the package.  By then, six weeks will have passed.

They think they’re slick.  Also, they’re crazy if they think I’m going to drop 50 stamps in the mailbox and trust them to do their jobs!

No, what I’m going to do is talk to some rank tomorrow and see if I can send it bulk rate postage and pay from my books, instead of all this stupid stuff.  I’m no letting them have that paper.  I’m serious, watch.

Write more this weekend!

Love,

Blog - Lonely

This is, no doubt, the loneliest place in the world…in my world anyhow.

This place is not only a physical place, it is also a place in my mind, less than a destination and more than an obstacle.  I’m able to come and go through books, dreams and memories, but I always end up back here, alone.

Yes, alone.  There are thousands of inmates, hundreds of guards, nurses, rats, roaches, spiders, germs…probably sprits.  There is never a moment of peace or privacy.  Everything…everything I do is done in the presence of someone, with someone only feet away…everything.  Yet, I’m more alone than I’ve ever been in my life.

Long gone are my “friends,” the women who “loved” me love others, my ex-“wife” keeps my children from me, my mother ignores me, my “family” finds time and I feel so incomplete.

The people who constantly surround me only exist in the negative, attempting to force evil upon me, to strangle me with malice.  They are merely phantoms, dark clouds I shuffle through as I try to find my way back home.

An emptiness so thorough fills me, consumes me while memories of toothless, slobber filled kisses plague me, never allowing me to forget the babies I left to grow without a father.  Never can I truly escape my regret and sadness.

So I smile to keep from crying and think positive, do positive, dream positive because it’s the only way to maintain a firm grip on my sanity.  In a place occupied by lost souls, I am beyond all alone.

My dreams allow me to hold my children, to make love to beautiful women, to interact with people who share my interest, to be accepted, to be welcomed, to be wanted.

Although it won’t let me go, this place doesn’t want me.  It’s only holding me because that’s all it knows how to do.  No hard feelings, because I don’t want this place either.  I want freedom, companionship, affection, love.  I need to be needed.

I’m so damn lonely!

Jason feels like he's "just a number"

Jason's book Prison Life InsideOUT is now available at http://bookcrafters.net.  It is also available as an ebook on amazon.com.

March 29, 2011  9:51 p.m.

Yup, another long un.  

Today seemed to drag on FOR-E-V-E-R!  But it’s finally drawing to a close.  I’m tired too.  Still not feeling so hot, worried that I may have some virus and my immune system is fighting it back and making it seem less than it really is.  It’s more of an irritation than anything.

I’ll be glad to get this exam out of the way tomorrow so I can put more into the completion and rewrite of this book.  As you can most definitely tell, it’s heavy on my heart and mind.  Anxious, anxious, anxious!

Tomorrow morning is my library appointment.  Instead of reading someone else’s novel, I’m going to check out The Writer’s Market, if they have it, or maybe that’s not what I need.  But something on strengths and formats, you know.  I don’t so much care about the market itself.  I just want to produce great work.

Today while reading, I realized a mistake I’ve been making with my dialogue and correcting it is going to add several pages to what I already have.

I am looking forward to rewriting the material because I want to get it to you so you can share my excitement.  BUT, I’m not looking forward to rewriting the material because it means I have to rewrite it.  Frown now, smile later!

We went to commissary…well, I went to commissary today.  Those people were out of so much stuff, it’s amazing.  I didn’t get $30 worth of stuff that I had on my list!  Whoever orders and inventories doesn’t know what they’re doing.  The commissary should never be out of that much stuff!

Anyhow, I got most of what I needed, which was a blessing.  My uncle’s money had not hit yet, but hopefully it will.  Still, I’m going to try to send those legal pads back by the end of the week.  Unfortunately, I have to wait for them to call me down and sign the withdrawal slip from my account.

Contrary to what I expected, most people paid what they owed! I’d assumed that I’d get about 2/3s of it, so I’m cool.  Going to be super busy though, doing cakes, writing, working out, studying.  It’ll all come together.

Bought a couple of large envelopes so that I can send you those long blogs or whatever they are, that I wrote on lockdown.  Probably send them and this letter off Thursday morning—give you a few days rest from me.

No, seriously, although I want to send you something every day, right now I have to be conservative with my postage.  The rumor is that the Hispanics are about to do something.  What?  I don’t know, I just hope I’m nowhere around when it happens.  Everybody is stocked up for the lockdown that’s sure to follow but no one knows what the lockdown is going to follow.

Part of me is beyond caring.  If they want to kill each other, whatever.  But part of me is sick of being punished for other people’s stupidity.  Even though I’d get plenty work done on a lockdown.  I enjoy the freedom of moving around, going to therapy, school, eating my vegetables…

We’ll see.  All I can do is pray on it.  My worries won’t change anything.  If the warden wasn’t so busy walking around with his chest out, he’d see that he doesn’t have a clue, or any control of what’s going on in this unit.

Let him tell it, he’s on top of it all.  He’s full of empty promises and hot air.  He hasn’t kept one promise he made when he got here giving all his speeches about “being men.”  What a joke.  Men honor their word.

Night, night for me.

 Blog – Just A Number

When will my pain be enough?

When will my suffering prove adequate?

When will my remorse me worthy?

How can a group of men and women, humans, determine how long it takes, how many years one must be confined, embarrassed, stripped of his dignity, snatched from his loved ones, abandoned by his family, forgotten by everyone before he’s learned his lesson?

It’s true, some never learn.  Others learn immediately, others still, after a few years, enough loss, enough misery, they are humbled, into the realization that “I cannot do it on my own.  I’m not Superman.” 

Because that’s where most of us make our biggest mistake, believing that we can take on the world, solve all the problems, pay all the bills, feed all the kids, love all of these women…live forever.

Unfortunately, when you are trapped in a box of powered concrete and iron, blocks and bars everywhere you look, ignorance running rampant, hatred in the air like pollen, the underlying scent of decay, death and desperation ever present, it feels like you are stuck in forever, yet hardly alive.

You lose the god complex and find God.  You fight physically until you realize that you can’t afford to expend the energy demanded by fisticuffs when you are engaged in a perpetual mental and spiritual slugfest.  You humble yourself.  You cease to lust for everything that you want, and strive to earn everything you need.  You simplify your life, and in doing so come to the revelation that happiness is found not in material, but in mentality.

Sounds like I’ve got it all figured out, huh?  But what do I know?  I’m just a number.

Sincerely,

#1361892