April 7, 2011 11:53 p.m.
Hey lady! Glad to hear from you! I’ve had a rough few days. Oh nothing major, just the usually stupidity of prison life trying my patience and my temper. Grrrr. I’m alright now.
Won’t lie, my feelings are hurt. I hurt so easily once I love and I love hard. Yes, I’m…or I can be very sensitive to those close to me. So I’d like to clear something up.
When I complained about the loose leaf paper, it was before I even knew that you were sending some. I can’t stand the thought of you thinking I’m ungrateful! I’m sooo very grateful and all that you’ve done, all that you are is a blessing. The delay between our mail reaching each other probably caused the confusion, but I promise I read about the loose leaf days after I sent that letter out.
In any event, that was a while ago that you told me about it and I was concerned that it still hasn’t arrived. Again, I’m not being snotty, (Man, I’m messed up about that. My heart has been heavy all evening with worry that you think I’m like that.) I’m just concerned because everything else arrived so fast. I’m not sure if the mailroom workers would be so bold as to withhold it knowing that it can be tracked. I mean, that would be pretty stupid on their part, but they aren’t exactly academics….who knows? Just wanted you to be aware. I’m not complaining, I promise.
And it sucks that stuff keeps happening to discourage you from trying to send things.
Yesterday I got denied some composition books my uncle sent because he bought them, then sent them to me himself. He didn’t know any better.
Today I got denied a blank card and envelope that my mom sent. She sent a bunch of other stuff too, obituaries, a two year old graduation card that she didn’t believe I didn’t receive. I did learn more about my heritage and the spellings of my family names.
Also I was able to talk with someone about the conflicts of sending your legal pads back. This Sgt. told me to get the fifty stamps any way I can and give them to him. He’ll see to it that the legal pads get sent. Works for me.
Physical therapy discharged me. They said I’ve made lots of progress but I’m at a standstill unless I want to have another surgery. Nope. I’ll continue to work my leg on my own. No more surgery! Hopefully they don’t send me back to Ferguson. I’m so tired of moving.
Aced my government test yesterday. 56 questions and I’m reasonably sure that I didn’t miss one. Didn’t even hesitate on choosing my answers. Truman integrated the armed forces. The 13th, 14th and 15th amendments were the civil war amendments. 1955 Rosa Parks, 1954 Brown vs. Board of Education, 1962 Engle vs. Vitale, Susan B. Anthony championed woman’s rights….
I studied hard enough. Had I only applied myself in high school, the possibilities…I have another test tomorrow. Gonna slaughter that one too. Guys cry about how I’m always busy doing something, they don’t understand that I’m trying to maintain a 4.0 and keep from losing my mind.
A captain and two sergeants came and got me out of my cell today, said I had an attorney visit. Although I hadn‘t done anything wrong, I was scared. It turned out that I was being served.
Apparently, the EX wants child support. You know, I’m not against child support. I hope like hell that I’ll one day be able to support my children. But here’s my thing, I was a damned good father. Just because she’s screwing some other guy, I get to be painted like the deadbeat dad when I was the one who changed diapers in the middle of the night, made bottles, gave breathing treatments, cooked all meals, bather, cleaned after, played with, oh yeah, she carried them for nine months.
The reason I married her crazy ass was so I could be with my kids every day. I submitted myself to hell so I could be there for them. So now the state is going to take part of the little money that is sent to me so she can get her nails done and I still don’t get to see or communicate with my kids! That’s bull! What’s worse, I filed child support on myself when Jason was a baby because she ran off with him for three weeks and I needed to know that my child was alright. Just thinking about it sends me. Texas has their priorities all messed up. Sure, chase me down for money I don’t have, but fire all of the teachers so my children end up in prison too.
It could be worse, though. I fear more than anything, her trying to change their names to something else, suing for any rights as a parent to be revoked. If only the courts went by love instead of precedent.
Sorry if I was over enthusiastic about my writing. I just…believe. Maybe that’s not enough, but I do. Unfortunately, it’s going to be slow going for me anyway, so don’t worry about feeling like you have to work me in. I can assure you that my family is not going to help. I’ll ask but… Anyhow, I won’t be discouraged. Now I have even more incentive to become successful, my kids need me, not that they haven’t before….
My uncle would help if he could, but he’s so busy it’s crazy! He’s in New York this weekend, last week he was in L.A. He’s all over, filming, photographing, doing documentaries…
I am very excited about the book! I’ll probably get it Monday if the government doesn’t shut down. It’s a shame that congress thinks that their own grandstanding and personal agendas should upstage the needs of the country.
Ummm, it did feel good to tell someone why I’m here, and my uncle listened without judgment, rather understanding. I’m going to summon the energy to write it this weekend after this other test. I’m undecided if I want it in the book. Probably. We’ll see how I feel after it is written.
What I did is not some monstrous crime, it was stupid, desperate and embarrassing (now). But the only person in danger was me. I’ll explain later.
I wish I had a decent photograph (for the book). For years I’ve wondered about that. I don’t want one with the diamonds in my mouth! I don’t want to alienate readers. I don’t want just black readers or just white readers, I want readers!
Sleepy. Better get some rest.
You know I thank God for you every day!
Sincerely,
P.S. I’ll have those 20 pages done by this Sunday night. No pressure, but I’m anxious to get your opinion.
Thanks for the calorie research! It was helpful.
Thank your sister for her prayers! They are always welcome. Hope you enjoy the mountains!!!
BLOG Burned
Every day, I see dozens of men, gasoline jugs strapped upside down on their backs, open, spilling down the backs of their legs, to the ground, saturating everything, walking blindly, chain smoking, tossing still lit matches haphazardly about, trapping themselves in self igniting infernos, complaining about how hot it is.
Well, damn. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that if you play with fire, you’re going to get burned. These guys don’t care. Burn their skin, char their hair, torch their dreams, just let them smoke and wander aimlessly.
What’s worse, I hear so many of them lashing out at family, friends, wives, homeboys, girlfriends, mad at the world because no one will give them what they want, when they want it. But I never hear any of them admit that they’ve ruined the roads between them and the other party.
These people are called “bridge burners.” They are the selfish, self absorbed manipulators obsessed with their “needs” above all else, completely dependent and completely clueless to anyone else’s struggles or needs.
I meet guys who have burned every bridge that they’ve ever crossed, sparking to life a dragon of flames that devours and envelopes all that it soars over, leaving behind the crisp and blackened ruins of disappointment and distance. A vast chasm of inhabitable, hostile emotion claims the place once occupied by pillars of love, trestles of affection, cables and support beams of best interests. And at the first sign of trouble, these poor lost souls stumble back to the scorched gulf of the bridge no more, looking longingly, imploringly at the person on the other side, who has now turned their back.
One would think that these “bridge burners” would learn their lesson. On the contrary, they scamper across the next bridge of trust, spilling their pungent accelerant as they go, tongues of fire sprouting up like angry orange weeds, each bridge crossed only giving a little more to the thoughtless user, abandoning another lifeline, making it impossible to backtrack and make repairs for the return journey.
They torch everything they touch until the flames grow ravenous enough to swallow their source. Some burn to death, other suffer greatly, disfigured and humbled enough to untie the gasoline jug, get rid of the cigarettes and matches, focus on a destination and start building bridges. Sometimes, we don’t appreciate the boundaries of life and the nurturing sustenance provided in the soul food fed to us by those who care, until all we have is toast.
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