Jason write a long letter

November 15, 2011

The days are too long, the nights aren’t long enough. Yeah, I’m fine, mainly because I’ m better equipped, better adjusted and because I have to be.

You have so much going on, and interesting things, too! I was very excited to see the BookCrafters website (http://self-publish-your-book.com). It looks very good and professional! It seems like you guys never rest. Y’all are always doing this or that, traveling here or there, helping he or she (or me), learning, growing, and giving.

Again, I have to say how much I enjoy and look forward to our conversations. I know it seems to have cut my letter writing. It’s not that though, my days are just so full. I hope that the few blogs are able to capture some of my expressions. Having to deal with such a wide range of emotions and feeling can be taxing, but I know that every circumstance I battle through makes me stronger and better prepared.

Not much going on that I have not mentioned on the phone. The past few days, some dudes have gotten “violated” by their homeboys (translation: Beat the hell out of by two or more members of your gang for committing some offense). It’s becoming an everyday thing. So glad I don’t answer to anybody.

Well, I just wanted to get a few lines your way along with these blogs. Had intended to write a good long letter but my celly needed to vent so I talked to him for what turned into two hours.

How bout them Broncos?!?

Love,

December 5, 2011

Wow, believe me when I say that time is flying, that I’m not exaggerating! Fast time is good, but I do not like writing on the run. Soooo, I decided that I must dedicate some special time to my special people. If I’m tired in the morning, oh well. Better to be a little tired and a lot loved than to be rested and to neglect those who do so much for you.

Hope the turkey day went by well and you guys were well fed and stuffed. I wanted to send my card but I’d already sent it to you once, plus, my hand turkey hasn’t improved in a quarter of a century.

The story you sent me about that guy who’d been imprisoned was moving. I too, see myself succeeding now that my life has turned for the better. Not being afraid or paranoid about slipping through the cracks and getting over on the legal system makes tons of difference. I think that once people are able to be honest with themselves, it changes the quality of their lives. Living a lie is so stressful and problematic that it never ends up being worth it. I can remember being caught up with 3 or 4 different females, telling them all that I loved them, scrambling to cover my tracks and keep up with my lies. A horrible existence.

Yeah, my uncle has been great, especially when I remember our true relation! He was here this past Sunday. That he finds time for me between flying all over the country is monumental to me. Don’t think I’ve ever loved, I mean truly loved so many people before in my life. When we have a visit, they send a written pass to our cell block so we can get dressed or whatever, then go out to the visitation area, strip, dress, and visit for the fastest two hours ever.

You make light of all the work that you guys do! You two stay busy. But that’s good. I completely understand. It’s kinda cool to look forward to the next day, anticipating the challenge of the tasks ahead of you. I do that with my free job now.

Vegetarians should eat turkey too.

I received the card! That was really cool! I get chills every time I see that book cover!

Speaking of books, the urge to write has been particularly strong lately even had new book ideas in my head. I’ve got a feeling that I’m going to go into one of those zones here real soon. Hopefully.

See, that’s the type of stuff I look forward to, donating to the ARC. I just want to live, give, and love. The rest will come.

As always, Joe’s blogs were very interesting and entertaining! I’ve only seen elephants in the Houston Zoo and from a distance. No, wait, I don’t remember any elephants at the zoo. That was the circus. I couldn’t imagine being charged by a creature of that magnitude. From the videos that I’ve seen about rogue elephants, I know that an angry elephant is nothing to play with. Is it really true that they never forget anything?

I do apologize for being so down lately. My mother’s limited role in my life has weighed heavily on my shoulders and as much as I want to just get over it, that’s impossible. Some hurt can’t be ignored.

Anyhow, it’s important that you know that you are appreciated. You have been a major contributor to my positive outlook and my ability to endure through tough situations. Man, writing myself crazy! Better not get carried away. Just wanted to get a real letter off to you.

I thank God and pray for you every night, because I feel that God assigns angels here on Earth to protect and look out for certain people. And I know that rare kind hearts like yours are blessings.

Love,

Jason is in a reflective mood

November 6, 2011

Dear Jan,

Whew! If I could just slowdown time for a moment…well…nah…better not do that. Gotta be careful what I wish for. Slowing down time in prison isn’t such a great idea.

Great to talk to you and Joe! You guys are really family! I look forward to the warm and welcoming voice. You are the best. Since you’ve come into and stayed in my life, I’ve become a lot less cynical. I almost expect good in people, at least I look for it. Ah, the power of love.

How crazy is it that now, instead of looking for drugs to calm my nerves, I reach for a hot cup of tea. I feel so civilized. Actually, my mom would give me tea before bed. Bigelow offered so many flavors that I actually looked forward to my bedtime mug of tea.

I know I said I’d get a blog to you, but I ended up getting a visit from my uncle and I don’t want to visit that place I need to go to write that one. Surely you understand the emotional investment I put into my writing. I can’t go to a bitter or dark place half-heartedly. I become that mood.

Needless to say that the visit was good. He was so tired, I felt bad that he’d taken time to come see me instead of resting. I was touched, though, and told him so. I mean, he has his own kids and has been more of a father to me that anyone ever has. Hell, Joe too. Amazing thing…compassion.

You are so busy! It pays the bills, though, and you seem to enjoy rising to the occasion.

What you said to me a few weekends back has stuck in my head and my heart. Admitting that I need someone used to be an impossible task for me, yet now I do it without shame. Glad that I can fill the void and blessed that you kindly fill mine. True, I long to thrive in society on my own two feet, but love is something that we all need. Sometimes life moves so fast that we forget to express ourselves sincerely. It’s good to be able to reciprocate some of all the goodness you give.

Everyday shows me that we are mirrors. At work, I reflect the attitude in front of me. You’d be amazed at how it gets my point across. I’ll be short and curt with people who are curt with me and polite to the person right next to them.

Anyhow, not trying to blab on about me right now. I’m in more of a reflective mood. You know that when the dam burst though…

Have you ever thought of writing a book? Just curious. I think you’d write the perfect children’s books. You have that “motherly” quality that can’t be taught. You are a natural nurturer.

Animals! I love animals! My problem is that I want to know so much about them once interested. Whenever I get pictures of wildlife from you guys, my mind races, I “picture” myself there, smell the smells, and breathe the air.

Speaking of animals, I just fed my spider a juicy beetle!

Well, now I’m rambling. I’ll get some rest and prepare for this long week ahead of me. The Unit is being audited by its parent agency and it’s going to be madness. However, I will, no doubt, find the mood I need to write that blog. This place won’t allow for prolonged joy or even peace of mind.

 Good thing I can count on your hugs by the bundle on a regular basis!

Love,

Woe! Two days later and I’m cleaning up, I find your letter that I thought I’d mailed. Sorry. Guess I’m moving way too fast. On my way out in the morning, I’ll drop this for sure.

BLOG -  Love or Nothing

She hated me…and I thought that she loved me.  How could I not see that she hated me?  The abuse, the lack of affection, the distance…it definitely was not love.  Perhaps once upon a time it was, but in the end there was nothing there but pure hatred.

The strength of that vile emotion would still hurt to this day if I were still able to feel anything for her.  Maybe I hate her too?  But my hatred is not a violent, ugly, thrashing thing, it’s tamer, more subtle, probably not hate at all but numbness.  Yes, that’s what it is.  I’m not capable of hatred, no one can ever have that sort of power over me again in either direction, love or hate.

It’s also possible that some people cannot reciprocate kindness and tenderness…they need, thrive, feed off of neglect, disrespect and abuse.  Maybe she would have continued to love me if I beat her, kicks and punches instead of hugs and kisses?  I’ll never know.  Those are needs beyond my scope.  She needed to fight to love, all I needed was love.

So how can two people so wrong for each other seem (at one point in time) so right?  Together, in lust disguised as love, we created two gorgeous, intelligent children and a fair share of pleasant memories.  But, the destruction of the storm is what I remember most, what makes me weary of other women, suspicious of hidden hatred, malicious intent, evil in the eyes and venom in her words.  Although I know that I’ve never been the type to be alone, I fear a serious relationship with a woman who may turn out to be crazy and ignorant, and marriage is completely out of the question.  So am I destined for loneliness, or is there a woman out there who appreciates kindness and sincerity?  One can only hope.  I’ll flee from any abuse without understanding or regret, yet I will run to compassion and respect.  What I will not do is ever mistake hatred for love.  Miserable people deserve each other, I won’t be misery’s companion.  Not again.  Never again.  Love or nothing, and right now, nothing doesn’t sound so bad.

Lockdown again

June 28, 2011

Yes, it did indeed get better! Had to tell the poor chap that it is very important that he give me my time alone. He’s kinda scared of me now, but I can’t help that, just as long as he stays out of my way. Paint me crazy because I don't want to be constantly surrounded by men.

Then, my uncle came Sunday morning, so that was a pleasant surprise! It was warm but breezy outside and as always, we got along great. My mom is supposed to come this weekend.

Had to write a grievance to get the mailroom to tell me that it’s going to cost $5.10 for me to mail the book 70 yards. Crazy! I’m pretty sure that they are scamming on the stamps, but I can‘t prove it.

Well, there’s more to write, and more to respond to, but I’m running right now. Still, you know where my heart is.

Love,

July 10, 2011 8:53 pm

Man, I’ve been thinking about you so much here recently and finally sat down to send you a few lines. Believe me, I’ve been wanting to write, but it’s been so stick-miserable hot, I’ve dreaded sitting up, sticking to every surface writing, but here I am.

Thank you for keeping the letters coming! You know you keep my spirits lifted and I’ve grown to depend on your love.

So much has taken place since I last wrote! It’s like I live in a bad reality T.V. program. Of course, we are on lockdown. AGAIN. Yeah, I know, it’s like every fifth letter is a notification of lockdown. With each day that passes, I despise this clown “running the show” more. And the bastard still has not replaced my property despite his promises. In my opinion, a man isn’t a man if he doesn’t keep his word.

The lockdowns don’t bother me as much as the person behind them, but even the officers are growing weary of his oppressive rule. They don’t want to be bothered with shaking us down and are giving a real halfhearted effort, which is good, makes it easier on us. The heat doesn’t help. I bathe so many times a day, I might as well just sit in a puddle of soapy water.

Loving the job, hating the time away from it though.

Had to have a heart to heart with my celly, made him quit smoking and acting like such a moron. He’s really not a bad dude, just needs guidance. Shame that I keep having to provide guidance to men nearly a decade my senior, but somethings can’t be helped.

My uncle came today! The frequent visits are great, but I know once the NFL lockout is over, he’ll be running with the Cowboys again. It’s cool. I’m grateful just to have him in my life, in any capacity.

Now that he knows he can send photos, he sent me nearly sixty pictures. Mainly of South Beach (where he was following the Mavs during the NBA finals), San Francisco, where he was with the Rangers in the World Series, from the NBA All-star weekend, and of the Dallas Cowboys traveling and practicing. I got a few really cool pictures of D. Wade from the Miami Heat speaking to Rev. Jesse Jackson, Dwight Howard of the Orlando Magic, Kobe Bryant, Shaq, T.O., Ocho Cinco and some others, plus some really good family pictures. His photography of nature, like Joe’s, is awe-inspiring.

He thinks a cookbook is a good idea. I’ve already come up with 47 recipes, not including sweets. I love a challenge.

I see a few people are buying the book. That’s cool. It’s slow but better late than never. My cousin bought a few copies, as did my aunt for some HCC campuses in Katy and Spring Branch. I can never repay you for where you’ve brought me mentally and emotionally!

A very revealing letter came from my mom. I guess you were right. I’ll do my best to reassure her that I’ve never stopped loving her and I never will. We’ll work through it. She and my brother should be here this weekend, but I won’t hold my breath. I do hope that they come, but that’s all I can do is hope.

Being as how it’s lockdown, I began reading The Sound of Thunder (Wilbur Smith) and couldn’t put it down! I didn’t know it was the sequel to When the Lion Feeds. Excellent books. And I see that there are several more. I will make it my mission to read them all!

It was so honest and relative. That’s what I love in a book, the power to make me relate. Although I’ve never been to Africa, mined gold, or hunted elephant, I understood the ups and downs and internal struggles of the characters. A masterful storyteller!  Kopje, Donga and Mehneer are words I didn't understand. Ask Joe if he’d be kind enough to translate again? Please. I mean, I used context clues, but I want it from a pro.

I miss my blogs, too. I truly enjoy them and the adventures within. The Spider Story and A Car Full of Monkeys are my favorites (intoafrica2012.blogspot.com). Or should I say “favourites”?  Don’t fret about the blogs. I know I’ve been inactive on them, but there are at least three darn good ones recorded in my head. I’m just waiting for a nice rainy day so I can comfortably scribble away.

My uncle was able to send 24 legal pads without static from the gates of hell (mailroom), so that’s a blessing. It’s going to cost me $5.10 to mail the book, so I’m just waiting to go back to the commissary whenever we come up.

Well, I hope that catches you up. My sheets are damp under my body and I can’t stand it. Sorry. Still, I love you dearly and will be thinking of you. And writing.

Love,

P.S.  I need a calendar of birthdays so that I don’t forget.

If you have time, I know you are very happily busy, could you see if you can find any workouts that are Maximum Intervals but require no weights or bands? Something that I can do in my cell and burn a lot of calories? There is one called Insanity, but it’s only on DVD as far as I know. Thanks. Trying to get stronger. My workout doesn’t challenge me anymore.

  

Blog - The Running Man

All last night, I ran.

Didn’t sweat much, but I definitely ran, chased by one nightmare, then another.  No, not nightmares with mutant clowns or blood thirsty psychotic panda bears.  Real nightmares, the ones that seem so real that you awake still feeling the pressure, disoriented, then relieved.

The scariest part of it all is I realized that I was just confronting my own demons.  And no matter how many times I woke up during the night, looked at the clock and dozed back off, I still drifted into yet another set of events that were impossible and heartbreaking.  The ones about being stuck in prison forever are always bad, although too close to my reality.  Plus, I hate spending sleep time, valuable time that I could be free, dreaming about prison.  But I can manage those dreams.

It was the first nightmare that set the tone for the night and left me upset even after I woke.  My ex-wife, who has proved herself evil in every possible way, was the monster. I was free, and the woman refused to let me or any of my family have any contact with my children, even going so far as to continually move, relocating so that I could never track down my babies, but sending hateful, taunting emails that shattered my mother, wilted my aunts and broke me down so thoroughly that I felt a hatred so pure and raw that I had trouble praying clearly this morning.

Yet I prayed.  I gave it all away in exchange for a new day, devoid of human monsters and impossible circumstances.  Oh, I’m surrounded by the worst people and awful situation, but in reality, I can navigate through dark around evil.  In my dreams, I’m still at the whim of my subconscious.

The beauty of it all is that I can so easily rid myself of ill outlooks, ill attitudes, foul emotions, like shrugging off a filthy coat, letting it fall to the floor and walking away from it.

Sometimes we stay cocooned in the darkness for so long that it hardens, becomes a shell, cutting off our light, trapping us within our own chaos.  It’s harder to break out of that shell, but it can be done.  Anything can be done, if you believe.

Am I some sort of holy roller?  No, but I believe.  I don’t even call myself a Christian.  A title or label is not necessary for me.  Who am I trying to convince?  I have a relationship with God, it is what it is.  No lightshows, no fancy or heavily worded proclamations.  I can’t recall seeing His face, but I see His hand all of the time, reaching down to help me up, to stay me, to steady me, to push me forward.  His touch has become familiar, causing me to glance to the heavens with a knowing smile.

At my most destructive point in life, I embraced the saying, “Hated by many, loved by few.”  Though, in hindsight, I can only remember one person who hated me.  Me.  Now, having learned to love myself, it’s more like “Loved by many, and I love them, too.  No room in my heart for hate.”  Honestly, I can’t think of one person that hates me, and I don’t hate anyone, not even my ex-wife.  Oh, I dislike several people, disgusted by some, but only because I see the evil that they do and spread amongst others, infecting the good with malice and doubt.  Misery loved companionship, hence the state of the world.

Some of the people dearest to me are not big on God.  Fortunately, God is big on them, people so blessed and special that the Devine is clearly visible in them.  How funny that God doesn’t even abandon those who have abandoned Him!  And He continues to work through them.

Sure, times have been hard, (mostly my doing), and I’ve doubted as I’m sure many have.  A spark of faith is all it takes to kindle the flames of hope.  Hope is worth chasing.

So when I’m not running from myself, I’m running towards what my potential may earn.

Why race myself when I can pace myself.  Tonight, I'll run again, but on my terms.  I’ll run towards my goals.

Jason begins a job in the library

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 15^th.   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.