June 6, 2011 9:54 pm
And it is pleasant to hear from you, too! Yes, I’m in a pretty good mood. Our friend, Warden Scott, walked through this morning and decided to let us off of lockdown as long as they don’t find anymore weapons. (That will not go over well). He promised that the next time he locks this cellblock down, they won’t get up until Christmas!
He complained about not receiving a copy of the book! Can you imagine that? But he is good advertisement. Every time he sees me he starts in about it to whoever will listen. Unfortunately when I tried to ask him about my property, he became busy and had to run. Last time (last Friday) I spoke to the investigating Sargent, he told me that the Warden knows, but has to be reminded. So that’s my mission, to see that he gets reminded, because I’m out of there right now. Hadn’t heard anything about any money, then we aren’t scheduled to go to commissary until the 15th. We’ll probably go sooner, but you can never say. Won’t matter much to me if I’m broke.
In other unfortunate news, not even a full hour after they let us up and replaced our TV’s (another cell block’s inmates were in our dayroom yesterday because their cells were being searched – they slashed both of our TV plugs), some idiot, a idiot I know very well, stole the officer’s cup. Of course, this infuriated the officer who had been nothing but nice to us and made sure we got out of the cells A.S.A.P. Once again, I tell you, these are the worst people on the face of the earth!
I have to get a job and get off of this wing! In the chow hall, a dude told me how stupid I was for turning down the kitchen job numerous times and that I must like suffering. I had no argument. Now my mercy is in the hands of the librarian. We’ll see.
No, if I get a job and move south, those cellblocks do not go on lockdown half as much as the one’s on this end, and when they do, they come up before this side.
Yes, the North side of the building is the “trouble” side. Why I’m housed on this side, no one could tell you.
Yes, on lockdown they bring us brown bags, usually with some type of meat sandwich and a peanut putter sandwich. And since I don’t eat peanut butter, you can imagine what it’s like for me. Several times last week, they fed us back-to-back bean (cold) burritos, followed by egg salad sandwiches, or corndogs. Kid meals, snacks, and bad tasting at that. If you don’t have food in your locker you lose weight.
If you get caught with green money, they drop your trustee (time earning status) several notches and change your custody level, like from minimum custody with privileges and dayroom time and the ability to spend $85 at commissary, to medium custody, no privileges, little dayroom time, and a $35 restriction, plus loss of good time (days counted toward parole) and other restrictions. Often times there is some solitary in the equation but usually only a few weeks.
I still get excited about the book! I’ve been writing here and there but awaiting something…can’t put finger on it, but it’s coming.
Went ahead and began reading When the Lion Feeds (by Wilbur Smith) and found myself unable to put it down! Very, very entertaining. I have so many questions because the vocabulary throws me. I figure that most of the words I don’t know are words describing animals and plant life. But I need to know what “BRAAIVLETS” means? I’d like to know how to properly pronounce certain works and names. Like the whip they use for beatings? Or how do you pronounce “Mbejane” and “Nkosi” which meant what, exactly? My curiosity can be a pest.
Speaking of daddy long legs again, my spider had a huge sack of eggs in her mouth. No, I don‘t like it, because I know there will be hundreds of babies on the ceiling! Not cool. And I learned something. I could have sworn that I read that they were poisonous. Feels good to not be ignorant.
Glad that you are still busy and cheerful. I got back to working out again after a few days break. Finally got scheduled for a doctor’s appointment regarding almost dying the other day. I know, I know, but that’s what it felt like, and I’m pretty tough.
Well, read some then get a few hours of sleep before breakfast. Gotta go to breakfast or wake up terribly hungry. Not an option.
Love,
June 12, 2011 11:40 p.m.
WOW! A very eventful week! And I’m so tired!! I’d decided to wait and write you tomorrow, but my heart said otherwise.
How are you? Going to have to try to make this letter quick, have to get up in the morning, long day.
Anyhow, since you last heard from me, so much has happened. Got a chance to go to the commissary, then forgot to buy stamps. At least I had money. Don’t know where it came from yet.
My mom sent word that she’d be up here at the end of the month. My uncle came last weekend, but had to leave early to set up for the Maverick’s game. As always, we enjoyed each other’s company.
Went to the library Wednesday and decided not to bug the lady about the job she’d offered me. I spoke as usual, and she told me that she’d submitted my name. I kinda shrugged if off and thanked her, not really trying to start hoping for a change. That afternoon, I got moved to the South side.
I love the job! The environment is great, and the A/C doesn’t hurt, plus the librarian is such a sweet lady. It’s pretty cool. The cellblock is better, but my celly and I work the same hours and that won’t work out. He’s all right, but he just has this vibe about him, you know? I’m not comfortable, so I’m going to move to where the rest of the library workers are.
Yes, I got the book. Excellent job! Really, everyone wants to read it. I tell them they can buy it. A lot of people are talking about it, though, and that’s cool. It’s really very well put together, and you did great on the editing.
However, our friend in the mailroom denied one copy because we aren’t allowed to receive duplicate copies. How stupid? So I have to mail the second copy to the library. Whatever, I’ll do it. It’s still stupid. Especially because I never got the last three books that you sent. And it’s obvious that you didn’t get them back. Awful. Sometimes I loathe these people.
Some other stuff has happened too, but I’m too sleepy to remember.
Cool card you sent to the Warden. Don’t know how he’s going to take it. Hopefully he doesn’t get too upset, if he even ever sees it.
Write more later.
Love,
Blog - I Believe I Can Fly
I believe I can fly! Really, I do. To you it may sound childish or absurd, but it’s the truth. The world is the sky, and when I abandon all my worries and burdens, I can fly.
High, high, above the clouds I soar, the wind beneath my wings, making my eyes water, slanting my eyes. I need not flap, but only hope, believe and trust. Care to join me?
No, I’m not always able to fly. A good deal of the time, I’m so weighted down with stress and despair that I can’t even jump. But when I let it all go and place my faith in the hands of my merciful provider, the sky is the limit.
When we are children, just running through an open field without a care in the world made us feel so free that we’d spread our arms, bank left, roll right, swoop and spiral in a giggling wonder that only ended when our energy did, and really not even then. Even a graceless crash into the high grass didn’t ground us. We’d lay, sprawled out and giddy, chest heaving, grinning up at the blue expanse, marveling at its magnitude, curious about the dragon shaped cloud drifting directly above.
Then, somewhere along the way, we lose our ability to fly. We grow too serious, too practical, strapping on the troubles of the world and giving gravity dominion over us.
Some of us will never fly again, too ashamed of the trust required. Others will only learn, remember how to fly after we’ve hit rock bottom and realize that the only way out of the hole we’re in is up. Having lost everything but hope, we recall the formula for flight, test the wings of our imagination and faith and take to the skies.
With a child’s heart, you can soar above your troubles, above your worries, and explore the heavens.
You are only as free as your state of mind. Do you believe you can fly? Join me.
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