Powered By Blogger

December 30, 2011

Jason has new purpose in his life

April 18, 2011 10:46 p.m.

If I say that I’m lost for words, then you must understand how awed I am.  Really.  I’m suppressing it (the excitement).  I was so sure that the book would be denied that I had not prepared myself to actually receive it.

All day people have been congratulating me, smiling proud smiles, patting me on the back.  All it took was for one person to find out, then word spread like wildfire, which is a bad metaphor right now if you live in Texas.

Still, it’s been surreal.  I’ve pretty much floated through the day, staying busy to keep my mind from building vast castles and slaying fearsome dragons.  I’m all over the board and I just can’t thank you enough.

It’s great!  It’s unread, but wonderful! Thank you so much!  Because you did the work, you provided the outlet, you inspired, nurtured, loved. 

Wish there was a way I could de-tired my body.  My days are so long that by 10:30 every night, I’m ready to fall out.

There’s so much to say, so much to do!  The format, layout, concept…everything is great!  I do wish I wrote neater.  Most of the errors I saw were surely do to my chicken scratch.  It’s going to take me a least to the end of the week to write out my corrections, so we make sure we’re on the same page.  I know you are eager to get it out there, as am I, but I want it right, you know?

Your letters came today, and I’d like to respond to them as well, but it just isn’t in me.  I’m physically tired and my mind is racing.

A few more days is all I ask?  Hopefully I can get more accomplished.  I keep getting called to the infirmary, sit there all day long and never see the doctor.  That’s draining.

At least you know I’ll be writing tomorrow. 

Thank you again!  I can never repay you or thank you enough!

Love,


April 20, 2011 9:51 p.m.

Hello Lady,

Me again, always at about the same time.

Today was somewhat a free day for me.  I got to do what I needed today.  May have worked out too hard though, because I nearly fell out.  HOT!  It’s super hot down here already!  Hot and sticky, tempers will flare this summer.  It’s gonna be a scorcher!

Would have gotten more done but I took a nap in the heat of the day.  I was too hot to do anything else.  My body is in pretty good shape already, but by the end of the summer, I’ll be a beast.

I did reach page 134 in my editing which means that I’ll be done by tomorrow.  A lot of the stuff is a little small stuff due to my handwriting; still, I want it to be perfect.  You’ve already put it together so nicely, the least I can do is make sure my part is up to par.  Don’t want to turn people off with the small things.  I know sometimes I read books with lots of errors and I wonder how an author could let their book be published like that.  Once, I read a book that began in third person and ended in first person.  Yeah, threw me, because it happened in the middle of the action.  Guess the writer really put herself in character.

Sent my letter to the District Clerk of Harris County this morning.  I told him that do not contest the order for support in any way, but requested that I be able to write my kids.  Also found out there’s a form I file to keep them from taking money off of my books because that money is gifts, not earned wages.  The way I see it, I have to pay it back anyway, so what difference will it make?  I’m going to write the child support office handling my case as well and tell them the same thing.  Bet they don’t get those letters too often.

Thank you!  Your compliments mean a lot to me.  I hope others think it’s powerful too.  How can one’s feeling and experiences be challenged?

Yes, we can nickname you “The Catalyst.”  You sent a card and helped to turn a life around.  I’m glad that you’re happy!   Thanks to God sending you, I get to be happy as well.  

Hey, don’t be sad for me, just keep being you and I’ll be alright.  Knowing there’s a hand out there to help you up when you fall is priceless.  And although I think it’ll be too much for this book, I promise that I’m going to write out just what got me here, for you.

Really, I’m so thrilled for you guys’ continued enthusiasm and effort.  Ya’ll amaze me day after day!  I could be doing so much nothing with my time, yet you keep encouraging, pushing, hugging, supporting.  Sitting stagnant does not even factor into my days.

People keep telling me that I should have taken the job in the kitchen because I’d move to the southside, because I could do this, they don’t see what I see, the whole picture.  Chasing pennies, to see beyond instant gratification and focus on longevity.  It’s not about Jason, it’s about Jason Tyler and Jaycy Krystyne.  I’m searching for self, legacy, and God willing, legal money to care for them and myself.

The short story competitions sound great to me!  I’ve written short stories but never pushed them.  Hopefully all sorts of doors will be opened.

No fog this way, but the humidity has been unreal.  In 30 seconds, your skin is damp and sticky.  It’s a pain.  I had to bathe twice in three hours!

If you feel silly for talking to deer, I must be retarded.  I talk to a spider.  I’ve had her since November.  She was barely visible when she moved in, now she’s pretty big.  She can be seen from the bars!  I feed her regularly, usually craneflies and beetles and she’s content to stay in the corner, which is cool.  I’ve had daddy long legs and they like to roam at night (across your face while you sleep!).  The females stay put and wait for food.  She’s my pet, I guess.

I miss Easter!  We were spoiled rotten as kids, with big baskets stuffed animals, food for days, eggs…I hate not being there to do the same for my kids.

Ah, the paper fiasco!  Of course, I overreacted, because I’m sensitive.  It’s okay.  I just don’t want you thinking ill of me.  I loathe ungrateful people!  I’m surrounded by them.  But don’t feel bad, it was no big deal, just important that we have an understanding and see each other clearly.

PT isn’t really clear on what’s in store for me now.  It doesn’t affect my job status.  They hate giving jobs over here anyway.  It really shouldn’t affect me much, I’m just praying that they don’t send me back to Ferguson.

Man, I’m so irritated right now.  Sorry.  It has nothing to do with you.  The other day, Thursday, I sat in the infirmary all day to see the doctor and was rescheduled.  Monday I sat in there all day and was rescheduled.  Today I find out that I was not rescheduled, that I was told wrong and the doctor called my name five times after I left.  I thought that would be cleared up and I’d be scheduled for tomorrow and it’s not.  I didn’t get a lay in and the woman working ignored me when I asked if I had one, which sent me through the roof!  Just because 90% of these clowns are stalkers doesn’t mean I am.  I had a legit question.  I damn sure didn’t want to flirt.  I wouldn’t be caught dead with that.

Talk about ruining my mood.  Now I have to go through all this crap again, after wasting two weeks of my time on nothing, my single cell will expire, my migraines will continue….damnit!

Thank you!  Your being proud makes me smile.  I do try hard.  It’s so difficult to focus in this place sometimes.

I’m fuming.  I apologize.  I need to pray and do whatever is going to flush this anger from my system.  Definitely don’t want to write you like this.  Someone else’s mistake is going to become a very serious pain for me.  That pisses me off because I asked the man if he was sure I was seeing the doctor I named.  But it’s my fault.  That’s bull….

Anyhow, I’ll be okay.  Tomorrow is a new day!  Take care.

Love,

Blog  I Win

“Another day, another dollar, another case to catch”. . . lyrics from the soundtrack of my former life.  I don’t even remember who rapped those words way back when, but I do know that they were as true then as they are absurd now.

So I sit in prison, cases caught, indicted, closed . . . in the dayroom amid faux gangsters, false prophets, tennis shoe hustlers who claim to be ballers, dope fiends who swear they were dons, rapists, child molesters and nickel and dime purse snatchers.  Lies are more common than truth, ignorance is more common than intellect, and common sense is not common.  To say that I hate it here is an understatement.

The tangible despair is infectious.  I sometimes find myself weighed down, bitterness boiling just below the surface, bubbling like bile and burning the base of my throat as if I were a dragon aching to spew fire on these lesser beings.

Who am I to judge others?  Well for starters, I’ve accepted who I was and gone in search of who I’m supposed to be.  I do not live in a dream world of German cars and Italian jewels fueled by the rantings of the rich and free.  My aspirations do not include penitentiary ballin or playing father to the lost sons whose mothers forsaked them long ago.  Success lay in my future already, so I focus on being, not playing father to the seeds that I’ve spawned.  I’m no longer “J-Hall,” I’m Jason Hall becoming.  I am a man amongst boys.

Just yesterday, after being at work for ten hours, I returned to my cellblock and sat down waiting to get in my cell.  Not five minutes passed before a young Hispanic guy asked me, “Who’s shit is this?” referring to my books on the bench behind me.

Instantly on the defensive, I asked “Why, does this bench belong to someone?”

Much more friendly than before, the dude started trying to explain the bench arrangement.  I wasn’t trying to hear it.  I told him, “Fix your bench” and got up, seething fury, my hatred of this place blossoming into something obscene.   In my silent rage, I tried to check my pride, but pride is a beast not easily tamed.  Still, I kept cool, realizing that every time I think and act as a grown man instead of resorting to my primal instincts, I take strides down the path of rehabilitation and adulthood.  I win.

Lately, I win a helluva lot more than I lose.  Some may say that I lose simply by being in prison.  In a sense, that’s true.  I’m losing moments from my children’s lives that I cannot get back.  I’m losing my youth.  But I’m gaining perspective.  It really boils down to how you see it, glass half full or half empty.

With each day, each mature choice, each lesson learned, the level of “substance” in my glass rises, and that changes everything.

So I let the shallow have the hollow victories, leave them to their endless bouts of shouting and violence while I prepare for the remainder of my life instead of living for the moment.

My mind is made up and I’ve lost enough.  I won’t whine, I’ll will.  Yeah, I’ll grind, sweat and will myself to success, and when it’s all said and done, my cup shall runneth over and I’ll drink from it with satisfaction because that’s what winners do.

December 22, 2011

Jason reflects on his life choices

April 14, 2011 1:41 a.m.

Wo!  Sorry I’ve not taken the time to sit and write a real letter.  I assure you that it is because I’ve been running all over the place!

The past several days have been unreal!  Even now, I’m ready to pass out.  Just needed to let you know that I tried to send the paper back today, but the stamps were sent back to me.

Apparently the 50 stamps ($21.20) is to send the paper back to the store in Dallas.  It’ll cost me $20 more to send it to you.

I know, I know, it’s all so stupid.  I thought mail was mail, but I’m too tired to go there and I have to get up in a couple of hours.

Just notify the store that the paper is coming back, (if you can).  Please let me know asap so I can send it off.  I’m tired of fighting these people.  All this after you did something really for me, this is where these people take it.

Anyhow, tomorrow will be another long day for me!  I pray that this weekend things will slow down.

Love,


April 17, 2011  9:15 p.m.

Sooo sorry to say that in all of the action of the past weeks, I don’t even remember where I left off.  But you have been on my mind and I can’t neglect you.

Yes, I’m still tired.  It was cold this weekend and my body is sore so I’ve not gotten much rest.  Plus, this coming week promises to be pretty hectic too, so I’m going to try to do some catching up now.

I bet your cookies are great!  We had a neighbor growing up, Mrs. Nemic, and she made the best refrigerator cookies!  Homemade cookies need love to taste special, and I‘m sure that you put plenty of love in everything that you cook.

You did not hurt my feelings.  Okay, well maybe, but that’s only because I care so much.  Regardless, just because my feelings get hurt doesn’t mean that I’m right or you’re wrong.  What you told me was real and what I needed to hear, and now I’m working past it.  You’ve been such a blessing in my life and a positive influence, if anything, I don’t thank you enough for all you are to me!

Naw, bread is the enemy!  Really, growing up, we only ate whole wheat, sourdough or other fresh breads, never white bread, and we ate a bunch of it.  I like bread, but our food options are so poor that I avoid the bread most days.  They serve mostly white bread, cornbread and biscuits.  I don’t eat just anybody’s cornbread, and these biscuits are pretty bad so I pass.  Skipping the two slices of white bread on a tray can help me avoid 140 calories easy. 

I wrote about the phones, they sent me a form to fill out, like you, I’m going to hold on to it until later.

Yeah, they got to taste a few things I was bringing to one of my old cellies and now they are begging me like I begged them.  I almost made the mistake of giving one of the supervisors my information, then they could have forced me to work.  However, because they don’t know my name and number, I do have the option to decline their offers.  They only know me by face for now, which works to my advantage.

“Pressure” is not the word I would use.  Writing is a form of freedom for me.  As I’ve said, I can’t talk to these people (a select few).  So much gets trapped within, when my ink flows, it allows me release.

It would be a lie if I said that I have not slowed down dramatically on the writing since you told me that you don’t have time.  I know, I know what you meant, but I still feel like a burden.  It’s my nature, can’t help it.  Yesterday I put all that stuff back on the shelf.  Just don’t want to build my hopes up, you know?  I mean, I know my books are good, but I’m in here…

1)      On a typical day, I wake up at six a.m., brush my teeth, wash my face, take my blood pressure pill and pray. I might lay my hair down, sweep my cell out and set to making cakes, or get dressed and wrap my mind around the tasks ahead of me if I have a layin.  The doors will open between 6:45 and 7:30.

I’ll go to the dayroom to wait for my layin, or if in the cell, get in the process of making cakes which takes about two hours.

Nine o’clock is count time, so all movement stops and wherever you are, you stay there until count clears, usually 10-10:30 a.m.  My cellblock is usually first for show at 10:30, so I go early and go to a layin or come back to the cellblock.

I’ll come in, wash my hands, clean up and prepare to work out.  I’ll work out from noon to almost two, bathe, wash my clothes that I worked out in, clean my floor and make more cakes.  (On Wednesdays I go to school).  Late chow runs from 4 p.m. to 7:30-8 p.m. so we may go anytime between.  I study, read, or write in that time, or make more cakes.  They go as fast as I can make them!

After last chow, which is mainly trash, I go to the pill window.  From there, back to the dayroom until the cells are opened.  I go in, about 6-7 p.m., wash my clothes, hang them to dry, pray.

I cook, possibly more cakes, depending on my day, write, study or read, or all three.  At about 10 p.m. I write letters, read my Bible or lay down with a book. (In summer, I bathe again so I can get in bed fresh.)  I say my prayers, wash my hair, set aside whatever I may need for the next day and drift off, usually about 12:30-1 a.m.

2)      Yes, when they open the doors, I can go out or stay in.  They almost never give us outside recreation and when they do, I’m busy.  But some folks get in trouble and are put on “cell restriction,” they can only come out of the cell for meals, school and layins for 30-45 days.  That’s not cool when you have a celly.

3)      Everyone has a job assignment but not everyone works.  Like my job is Inside Medical Squad 01.  We are supposed to do stuff like hull peas or clean greans from the fields, but we never go out.  (In-to work.  Never.)  Others, like kitchen or laundry workers, go to work when an officer comes for them.  You get off one day.  You can get a case for skipping work.

4)      The rules are the rules.  Only psych patients get special treatment.  Handicaps get treated as bad as anyone else.

5)      GED or rehabilitation classes are Monday – Friday, but college is only once a week, usually two or three classes a week.  But I couldn’t afford the extra classes this term.

6)      If the door gets closed and you are in the cell, you are stuck until the doors open again, sometimes several hours.  I pace like a caged lion sometimes, but never long because it’s not productive.

Good questions.

You’re right about leaving the hurtful things out.  I wish I hadn’t said that about the mailroom lady.  Now she’s going to give me hell every chance she gets.  And of course, I’m going to blame everything on her…like how I never received the paper.

I realize that I’m holding you up on the printing.  I thought I wanted to include how I ended up here, and maybe I do.  Just give me to the end of this week?  I’ve been trying to find the strength to go through that again.  Plus, I want to see the book, but I’m prepared for Huntsville to deny it because it’s the truth.

600 hits (on my blog) sounds good, but I understand that we need thousands!

Sincerely,

P.S.  Thank you for the card!  As always, the pictures were awesome!!!

  • Loved the spider story!

BLOG - IF

If...

If I could start my life from scratch . . . well, I wouldn't.  How could I?  Now that I've finally found me, to undo my past, mistakes and accomplishments, would destroy the person I've become.

I could wish away the destructive relationship with my abusive ex-wife, but not without erasing my kids, the people I cherish above all on this earth.  If I could undo my crime and my blasphemous time, with it go the lessons leaned from my screwups.

So instead of wishing I could do the un-doable, I can do better, do more, push forward, push harder, get stronger, grow wiser, reach higher, sleep better and welcome each new dawn.

My "right now" was then, when I chose to stop surviving, start striving, reviving the me, dead and gone--born again, just a baby, love's armor to save me, the darkness can't faze me, the sun's on my face.  The moon's on my back, I walk in the light, aware, conscious, right, my sights set on beauty I once overlooked.

If "if" was a fifth, I'd pass and stay sober, throw steaks on the grill, invite some friends over.  I'd do so much different than back in the past.  I'd live everyday like it was my last.  Hug my babies just because, kiss my lady with passion, speak less, count my blessings, be a man of action.  I'd run every morning and pray every night, smile great, grand and goofy, in love with my life.

If . . . no . . . better yet . . .when.

December 11, 2011

Jason longs to be home for Christmas

April 11, 2011  11:48 p.m.

Whew!  What a day!  How are you?  Still on vacation, huh?  I’ve had the longest day ever!  No, no really, but I’m glad it’s over.  Unfortunately, another is just minutes away.

Last night, about this time, I got a mailroom pass that was checked “other.”  Other means that they intend to do something other than give you what was sent to you.

Sooo, I was angry all night.  I just knew that they were denying my book.  I went to breakfast (because I was up) waited in the pill line for 45 minutes for albuteral that wasn’t there, then got stuck in the dayroom for count.  I didn’t get back into my cell until 5:20 a.m.  Then got up at 5:40 a.m. to get ready for my day because once they open the doors at 6:45 a.m. (for showers) they’ll open the doors to let you back in, but not to let you out.  So if you have to be somewhere at anytime between 6:30 a.m. and 8:30 a.m., you’d best come out the first time the doors open in the morning.

On my way to mass, I stopped at the mail room, conditioning my mind to be calm.  The woman I spoke to is really a sweetheart.  I hate that she has a job that requires her to make me miserable, but, she’s a nice lady.  When people are taking things from you, it’s better when they aren’t jerks about it.

Anyhow, I approach the window, give her my pass and I.D.  She starts reading, “You were sent a book, Prison Life InsideOUT by Jason Hall; that’s pretty cool.”  Then the old lady who denied the legal pads, leaned towards the window, over the nice lady’s shoulder and starts barking, “Whop! Whop! Whop!”  So I’m looking at her like she’s lost her mind.  I’ve not been to sleep, I’m irritable and now, I don’t know what the hell is going on.

“I’m your basset hound!  I read your book!” she says.  Still I’m clueless.  The nice lady clarifies, “she read where you called her a basset hound.”

Honestly, I didn’t even remember.  I thought back, regretting having said something so ugly about that woman in my anger.  I was so ashamed that I couldn’t defend myself.  Seeing this, the nice lady smiled.  “It’s okay.  We laughed about it.”  I wasn’t laughing.

Turns out, I had to give consent for the book to be reviewed by Huntsville.  Don’t know how long that’ll take, but I’m praying that they don’t find some reason to deny it.  That would break my heart!  Proof copy or not!

So much was surging through my mind that it took me about 30 minutes to settle down into church.  Then I fell asleep.

After church, I ate, came back to my cell and crashed about two hours.  Then by the grace of God, I came out and went straight to commissary.  Commissary is the most chaotic day in this place!  I was glad to get that out of the way.

You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve got the stamps.  I should have the paper mailed back by mid-week. Speaking of paper, I should have bought some, but I didn’t want to buy more paper and you sent paper.  I just don’t know where it is.

Okay, not cool.  I just got three layins for tomorrow.  7 a.m. medical (all day!), 10:30 physical therapy (which I am supposed to be dropped) and 12:30 law library.  Not cool at all.  I have a bunch more to tell you, but I have to go to sleep right now or tomorrow will be catastrophic!

Yeah, the law library is about the child support.  I’m trying to figure out how to handle it properly.  Another long day. 

I received letters from you today.  Hopefully I’m not exhausted tomorrow and I can respond.

Thank you always for being you!  You’ve changed my life!

Love,

April 14, 2011 1:41 a.m.

Woe!  Sorry I’ve not taken the time to sit and write a real letter.  I assure you that it is because I’ve been running all over the place!

The past several days have been unreal!  Even now, I’m ready to pass out.  Just needed to let you know that I tried to send the paper back today, but the stamps were sent back to me.

Apparently the 50 stamps ($21.20) is to send the paper back to the store in Dallas.  It’ll cost me $20 more to send it to you.

I know, I know, it’s all so stupid.  I thought mail was mail, but I’m too tired to go there and I have to get up in a couple of hours.

Just notifiy the store that the paper is coming back, (if you can).  Please let me know asap so I can send it off.  I’m tired of fighting these people.  All this after you did something really did for me, this is where these people take it.

Anyhow, tomorrow will be another long day for me!  I pray that this weekend things will slow down.

Love,

Blog   This Christmas

The Christmas season is without a doubt my favorite time of the year.  Some of my fondest family memories were born during these winter months.  Eve being incarcerated hasn’t stolen my joy of the holiday season.

Right now I’m listening to the Christmas station, dreaming up new recipes, imagining, looking forward to a time when I can be with my children in front of a fireplace, the smell of gumbo heavy in the air, everyone content with the company and the warm atmosphere.  One day…

There’s a song…actually a few songs that send me though.  Of course, Nat King Cole’s The Christmas Song  because he so perfectly paints the season.  And anytime I hear Silent Night by the Temptations, or This Christmas, I remember Christmases of my childhood with a smile on my face.  Boyz II Men’s Let It Snow makes me miss my past loves like you wouldn’t imagine.

However, there is a Kenny Loggins’ song that moves me to my soul.  When that song comes on, I stop whatever I’m doing and sing along.  I’m not even sure what the name of the song is, but he sings, “Please, celebrate me home.”  That song makes me need to be out of here in the worst way.

Nevertheless, the infectious joy of the season warms one like a crackling fire or my momma’s gumbo and meatpies.  I smile, reflecting on Christmases past and pine for Christmases to come.

Right now, I’m in a non-festive environment, physically.  But mentally, I’m trailing silver icicles across the carpet, inhaling the scent of pine, still enraptured by the magical lights and colorful tinsel.  Yeah, all I want for Christmas is home.