The journal of Daniel H. Harris

Table of Contents:

1 January 2005 New Years Day! 12:59 a.m.

Stayed up all night just to bring in 2005 in proper style. Could have used some champagne. Last night word came in from Prisoner Express that the journal project had officially begun. Although I sent in entries from December and November this will be my first official entry. In honot of this occasion I'm starting my brand new journal that will, I hope, hold an entire year of entries if I don't get too long-winded.

Now to my personal statistics. My hair is brown with sprinkles of gray and my eyes are brown with hazel centers. I'm just a mass of contradictions. Not being an exercise nut I'm getting a bit pudgy. At 6 feet tall and 196 pounds I'm pretty heavy, but not overly so. This is my 13th year in prison and my second felony fall. I was born on October 12th, 1960 due to a miscalculation in my Mom's count or else Dad's being over-amorous. In any case I was an accident. Mobile, AL was my brith place and the only real home I've ever known. The youngest of 4 children I was spoiled by my sisters and my brother tried to kill me. I'm an out-of-balance Libra doing time for addictions to love and other illicit drugs that led to my making stupid decisions. I am guilty of all my crimes and society has every right to hold me in prison forever. In my time in prison I have grown intellectually and become a different man than I used to be, but that does not relieve me of responsibility for my actions. Now I read, write and study. My life is spent in administrative segregation where I'm locked in a cell 23, or more, hours per day. It's my second trip to ad-seg for staff assaults and in the same situation I would still react as I did before. That gray uniform does not give a guard the right to assault me and as a human I have every right to defend myself. It is doubtful that I'll ever make parole so I have 22 more years left to do. I will be eligible for Social Security when I get out, if there is such a thing then.

If you've read November and December 2004 entries you will have noticed I am trying to use this project to make my prison experience accessible to those not incarcerated and show that prisoners are as human as everyone else. My thoughts on things other than prison I hope will help put my views in context.

For 2005 I have made three New Year's resolutions: 1, to do another year without violence, I've got two violence-free years now; 2, to finish my book on how I came to prison and my experiences here; 3, to study for my SATs so I'll be prepared when, and if, they ever let me out of ad-seg to take the test and return to college here. Can't back out now because it's in writing for all to see.

2 January 2005 4:00 p.m.

Guess it would be best if I fill some space by talking about myself. Most of my main points will become redundant over a year. How can I write about my life and not talk about them? Maybe it'll be easier for the readers if I give some facts. One of those is that I'm doing a 35 year sentence. It's a multiple count offense where all 10 sentences are running concurrently. There are two 35 year terms for Attempted Capital Murder of Police, four 32 year terms for the same crime in a different county, and four 20 year terms for Attempted Murder. This all stems from a shoot out when the Dallas Police tried to arrest me for a murder in Norfolk, Virginia. Knowing what I know now I wish I had surrendered in a peaceful manner. Virginia gave me a Life Sentence for the murder and I have a paper that shows they compute that as 600 years, but they have dropped their detainer and all that holds me in prison is my Texas time.

Don't worry, Texas will never give me parole and I doubt I'll live to discharge. Yes, I am guilty on all counts and then some. The victim in Virginia is the only injury and was an act of pure stupidity. I let the girl I loved talk me into killing her uncle. Have not heard from her in years now that she is free. If I had told the truth she'd still be in prison with a life sentence too. Instead I bought her a 5 year sentence in Virginia by pleading guilty with no deal for myself except that she'd get no more than 5 years to do in Virginia. You'd expect her to be more grateful. As to trying to kill all those people in the shoot out, all I can say is I shot 100 rounds of 9mm and about 50 rounds of .22 caliber. In all that shooting I didn't hit a soul. Being I was raised shooting guns in rural Alabama it is beyond belief I'd miss that often. There were a couple of people I tried to shoot and missed, but if I had shot head height every time I pulled the trigger someone would have been hit. Over 90% of my bullets were in tires and radiators. When I shot windshields I shot the passenger side where no person was. Did a lot of damage and endangered many lives, therefore deserving of my sentence.

Another thing I forget to mention is race. It is relevant to doing time. I'm white in a southern prison. That makes me a member of the invisible minority. Whites in southern prisons are more likely to be attacked by "prisoners of color" due to their race. Whites are the only race in Texas prison who have to contantly prove they are willing to fight if they do not wish to be considered weak and forced to pay protection. It makes for a violent life. None of the prison reform groups are willing to investigate the disparity of race when it comes to being victimized in prison. It's been my observation that when whites are raped or robbed it is usually by a black who committed the crimes. But, no one wants to admit that; not the victim or the administration, so we pretend all is equal.

3 January 2005 4:54 p.m.

My neighbor left is going home today. Since he has been a burden with his flooding and messing up the radio reception with his redesigned radio, I'm very glad that he's gone. He's one of the young, short timer, inmates who'll be back before Christmas, maybe sooner. You see his next stop is INS. They'll ship him back to Mexico and he's already planning his return to America. Wish I could make a deal to trade my citizenship with him. If they'll send me to Mexico I won't come back.

Guess yesterdays entry sounds callous. It's not meant to. Today, as I look back, it seems that man was only a reflection of my shadow; but not me at all. How could I go so crazy? Maybe I should make it clear that I accept full responsibility for my crimes, even those I've never been charged for. I recognize the antisocial and violent nature of my life and I'd rather be here than living that way. I cannot change the past. All that is left for me is to accept my punishment and live a life that changes my future. It's not easy to change the habits of a lifetime. My habits were drugs and violence. I've broken the chains of drugs and now must learn not to react violently. Every day is a major victory. As with drugs I know there will be days whne I'm caught up in violence, I live in a violent world. As with drugs I'll just have to keep returning to peace, as I had to keep returning to sobriety, until it is habit.

4 January 2005 6:34 p.m.

My fellow prisoners have a propensity to let me down. it seems the more I try to help life them up the more they frown on me. So many of my peers are very quick to take kindness for weakness. Because I get so many books I try to share them with those around me. Because I'm not trying to sell them they think I must be trying to buy friendship out of fear. All my years in Texas have been this way. It's as if all Texas prisoners refuse to admit that all of us, regardless of race, are in the same boat. If we all paddle in different directions we'll never make any headway. This is an attitude that forces Texas prisoners to do lonely time. So many prisoners join gangs looking for protection and a family. No gang member I've ever spoken with has described any form of assistance their gang gives them in getting out or helping them to stay out. Oh, many of them provide drugs to give their members a "start in life" when they get out. Looks more lieka start on the road back to prison to me. Other end up getting more time from "putting in work" with their chosen gang, fighting, killing or dealing, while still in prison. What a vicious cycle. Still I believe there are many here who can profit from programs like College Guild, Prisoner Express or the mentoring program I hope to see developed that will connect Senior Citizens with prisoners to correspond. We just have to keep on trying and save those few we can. If we only save one out of every thousand it will be worth the effort.

5 January 2005 10:01 p.m.

There are tricks to surviving doing time. My favorite is one I read about in a book on WW II. American pilots and spies were taught to use their minds to stave off the effects of long-term confinement in case they were caught. There was a historic note about one such soldier who had been a clock maker before the war and built an intricate mechanical clock in his mind while a P.O.W. Once freed he built that clock. When the weight of my time is getting to me I go in search of a piece of land in the wooded valleys I explored as a kid and find a stream. In that lonely hidden oak grove I build a small cabin of rough-hewn oak beams and red cedar with a rough of cedar shake shingles. Around it I plant a living fence to circle my retreat of bamboo and blackberry brambles to discourage visitors. With a small dam of earth I creat a tiny pond and stock my compound with ducks and geese. It's the life I could have had if I had given up drugs and alcohol and applied myself to holding down a job. Though my home is only a fantasy that exists only in my mind it gives me respite from the daily torment of priosn life to rest my weary spirit. There is no electricity and only a wood stove to cook and heat with. A hand pump for water and no bills to speak of once it was paid for; maybe some goats for milk and to make cheese. The walls are covered in shelves full of books and by now I'd be retired to spend my days puttering in my garden and reading while I watch my goats, ducks and geese. Now, only in my dreams.

7 January 2005 11:34 p.m.

We're having a cold snap in the 40s. They may not be cold to by Yankee standards of judging, but in Texas it's a hard freeze. The good thing is they didn't deem it necessary to turn on the heat. That's good, I hate the heat. It kills my sinuses. In these cool temperatures all I do is hibernate. I just opened my vent, which blows outside air and is not supposed to ever be closed but we all stop them up to adjust our cells to personal preference, and intend to cuddle under a blanket. They give us two for winter in case of need, like a broken heater during cold. It's rare for me to use one for cover, though i may use them for rugs or pillows.

The bad thing about my cell being this cold is it keeps me from sitting down to write or type. Wouldn't be so bad if I had control of my environment. In priosn you always have another person deciding what temperature is appropriate for your cell. Covering the vent helps, but the main vents are outside my cell and affect conditions. The other person involved is usually an officer wearing a long-sleeved shirt, thermals and a jacket. I'm at home so seldom feel the need to dress in more than my boxer shorts. It's a sure thing someone reading this will grumble about my needing to dress. Since I have to chair, the stool has no back and the most accessible spot of comfort is my bunk; I choose my bunk and lay down. I have to sit on the bunk edge to type because it's the only way the cord will reach the socket. No matter the temperature my day is mostly in the bunk and I can't see a reason to get in bed in clothes.

Today was my State Classification Committee (SCC) hearing. That is the only way of being released from ad-seg. Shockingly I was not disappointed when he told me they would consider me again in 6 months. Six more months of relatively stress-free living with no roommate and lots of privacy does not seem a bad thing to me. He was considering releasing me, or so I believe, until my attitude got under his skin. Guess I didn't seem to be properly remorseful of my past conduct. Remorse does not change the past or the future. My change is deeper than he realizes. I have come to know myself. In this learning of who I am came realization that it will always be my nature to defend myself if attacked. Guess I'll always be a fellow who ruffles some folks feathers with his attitude too. Since I hope to never jurt another person, staying in ad-seg is a good compromise for me. It would have been so easy to con this official and go to population. If I had chosen to make a statement I could have brought tears to his eyes. Instead I laughed at his proceedings and his questions flippantly with the total honesty he never hears and made no excuses. "You have 4 Att. Cap. Murders?" he asked. "No sir. I have 6 of those and four Att. Murders." He had it all in writing, so why ask? He even asked how many times I had been to ad-seg and what for last time. Twice, as he well knew, and always for staff assault. The excuse is very simple. If they'd teach their guards to keep their hands to themselves and not initiate violence it would be safe to send me to General Population. Until then I wish they'd let me be.

8 January 2005 9:26 p.m.

Finally I'm catching up on my back log of work. Finished typing my Dec. journal entries for PE and all that is left to finish is to do my answers for Clem at College Guild. Then I'll start studying my SAT study guide. Even if I never take my SATs there is a lot of information that will be a great addition to my store of knowledge. Sent a few books to Starr and I can send him a few more later. He has a bag full of stuff to read down here that I don't want to tear up so it'll fit out the cell door to eb passed without assistance. We'll have to find a good guard to help us out and carry it to him. Finished "Rock of Ages" by Stephen Jay Gould. He is an excellent writer. This book should be mandatory reading for everybody. Since his opinion on the subjects of sceince and religion as they relate to evolution, natural history and morals so closely mirrors my own I am rightly proud that I reached the same conclusions without benefit of his intellect, reference library or eduction. Makes me feel like a budding intellectual and that is good for a smile. It's time I stretch out and rest my back from typing. Sitting on the edge of my bunch with nothing to lean against kills my back. It takes a toll on an old guy like me. Then again so does breathing and walking. :) If you're only as old as you feel I'm 108 today and in real bad need of repairs right now. Need morphine but I'll settle for Tylenol.

9 January 2005 9:32 p.m.

Just finished my latest letter continuing a discussion of race relations in prison and other topics important to prisoners and those who care about them. I'm looking foward to my new friend's reply and getting to know more about her and the organization she works for, Critical Resistance, in the fullness of time. Most of my projects are caught up now, just need to do my history. First, I have to write my best friend though. The boredom of prison has gotten in my bones this weekend and I'm having trouble shaking off my problems. The biggest problem is that tomorrow will be pancakes for breakfast. They're awful. What I wouldn't give for a plate of eggs, over easy with runny yolks, and some cheese toast. Let me get off that subject or I will surely starve to death before morning. The good thing about being on the night shift is that the nights seem short compared to the days. Of course it is always possible to take a short nap at night, no matter how many hours you slept the day before. I seem to require 10 or 12 hours sleep to feel rested and it's not easy to get. All I get is short naps rather than the continuous, unbroken sleep that rests me.

1 February 2005 7:23 p.m.

Would still be sleeping if not for the guard passing out mail waking me up. It wasn't even personal mail. Some guards hate to see us sleeping. Oh well, I needed to get up and go to work typing. Got a long chapter written and would like to get it ready to go out with the last one when I make store on the 10th and get some stamps. It should be good. My rule of thumb is that if I get depressed and hate a piece of writing and then read it later and like it after the depression ahs lifted it's good. I can hope until it goes to my chief reader and technical editor, also my biggest fan and harshest critic. Takes a lot more love to be an honest critic than to say everything I write is perfect. So many prisoners who write are done a disservice by their friends and family unwilling to tell them where their writing style needs work. My writing ahs been greatly improved under the light of constructive criticism as it never would have if all I ever heard was how wonderful it all was when it wasn't.

2 February 2005 9:43 p.m.

In recent months I have come to realize that I've attained, without even tryign to, a certain amount of spiritual enlightenment. Surely I'm not near the summit of Mount Enlightenment, but have certainly gained the slopes from which it is visible. The religious will say that only through their specific religion can such ground be travailed. You must walk some path documented in antiquity and bequeathed to you by a deity that returned to earth in human form. For years I believed this and failed at more religions than most people even realize exist. The devil is in the details and the contradictions always tripped me up. Then I found the path that works for me. The religious, who like to label everything, call it Secular Humanism and disparage it as destructive to the morals and ethics of humanity. Through self education I've come to this path where there is no threat of punishment or promise of forgiveness and salvation. Here there are no contradictions and only one commandment that is the doctrine of Secular Humanism: Do all that you can to better the world that it will be improved by your passage through it. Once I saw that we are all part of the whole my perspective shifted. For some religion works and I am tolerant of the beliefs of all. I just wish they would be as tolerant of me and even of each other. Then we might have a world without war.

3 February 2005 11:35 p.m.

Nearly missed making an entry today. Being on the night shift and busy working on my writing it's easy to forget to be here before the next day is. My back and shoulders are killing me from sitting on the edge of my bunk typing. Comfortable chairs are something freeworld people take for granted. I typed 13 pages tonight of my final draft. I'm scared of what I'll find when I proofread it. Had 9 typos and errors in the first 9 pages to correct. At least I'm making some headway now. Should finish this up by tomorrow and then can start writing the next chapter by hand. Should be done by Summer if I'm lucky and persist.

4 February 2005 7:29 p.m.

Got the 4th chapter done last night and even made the corrections. Now I'm back to scribbling out the longhand rough draft of the next chapter. It's getting easier as I move closer to the present. So much of my past is lost in a haze of drugs and alcohol. What I wouldn't give to have never tasted a drink or done drugs. If I could give one bit of advice to every young person it would be to avoid all drugs and alcohol. Not because they are evil, wrong, or a sin; because it is so easy to let them take over your life. Once you lose control they steal your mind and wash away your memories. I always wonder when I'm having trouble thinking of the word I want to use in my writing if I have erased it with drugs and alcohol. Yes, many can handle it and never have a problem. The only way to know is to try it and then it is far too late. The party just isn't worth the pain.

7 February 2005 2:54 p.m.

Isn't it strange how a book can go ignored for so long because it doesn't seem interesting until you feel guilty for not having given it a fair and honorable chance and begin to read it. Like magic it released streamers that wrap around your heart and soul and you find yourself bound to the writing and the writer, crying for a character's pain as you exult in their victories. That is how "The Bone People" is affecting me. This is a book by Keri Hulme, a Maori in New Zealand, writing a story interlaced with the colors of her country and its people. It is a book I highly recommend.

8 February 2005 7:39 p.m.

Had a lift to my spirits and that of my Muse. Gary sent me the "What Makes a Good Prison Guard" anthology. It feels wonderful to be part of such a potentially opinion changing project. In the long run this could shift the mindset of America's prison bureaucracy. If not them then maybe the public mindset which would have the same results. If we can only find a way to get this ship, Bureaucracy, to turn to the left toward the open Sea of Rehabilitation before she founders upon the rocks of punitive incarceration. One of those tasks that may seem to be impossible and yet the combined strength of many may succeed where the disunified flailings of factions are sure to fail. It is a battle worth fighting. Not just for the prisoners, but also for the society they have been stolen from and that most will one day return to.

9 February 2005 unknown hour of night

Some illtrained, or illspirited, guard, working in control, turned off all our electricity just long enough to start my clock blinking and I don't have a watch, most of us don't. It happens fairly often and is rather aggravating. The officer working as rover tonight is one of those who will put off passing out mail as long as possible by slow bucking on passing out the sheets. That is a much worse aggravation. I refuse to let this get me down though. My request for a meat free diet was verified today and will soon start. That is a good thing. Ever since I read "When Elephants Weep" I've felt guilty about eating meaet. Trid to get this changed but my being ona medical dit put me in a catch-22 situation with prison bureaucracy where medical was saying they don't do meat free diets and the kitchen was ignoring my request because I was on a medical diet. Things just fell into place recently when medical took me off the medical diet, I think by accident, and after that my request for meat free got the prompt attention it deserved. Tomorrow is commissary day and I have some money. That makes it a very special day. It's been a unique experience, after the years I spent broke, having money regularly that I can depend on and budget appropriately. It's still fascinating to me how little most prisoners who have money to spend all the time appreciate it. It's simply glorious and if I ever lose my joy at having I'll know I have too much.

10 February 2005 1:51 p.m.

Made store and left money on my books to buy extra stamps next time. It would save me lots of trouble if they didn't limit the purchase of stamps to 30 each store draw and only 60 in your possession. Silly rule! Have a bunch of mailing to do. It takes a bunch of stamps to mail out my manuscripts and submit articles to magazines. I'm in hope of finding a magazine willing to let an old convict air his views on prison and shine some light into this darkness. I'm not holding my breath though.

11 February 2005 10:56 a.m.

"I'll be here 'til 2007, then I'm going to C-wing to do my last year." That is a direct quote from a prisoner who just got here by earning his level-1 privileges. Only level-1 prisoners live on this wing. C-wing is where they house level-3 prisoners. On that wing you can't go to the store except to buy stamps and hygiene items, only three hours of recreation is allowed, no electronics, like radios and typewriters. It is a dirty, cold bare existence. Every 30 days you have to get a disciplinary or they give you a level-2. It is so bad that the Federal court made them restore some privileges. The prisoners there are loud and obnoxious. It stinks from chunked shit. It is impossible for me to believe this young man can be given his freedom and not continue to live a criminal lifestyle. If I'm right then he won't be out long and will return to prison with a new sentence to do. It is a shame that no effort has been made to rebuild this young man's mind. Without rehabilitation prison is simply torture by warehousing. This seems the perfect example of the waste that comes from making prisons profitable to corporations. The corporate model is one that requires growth to be profitable. Should we really allow anyone to profit from the incarceration of our youth? There is no profit for the society that allows prison to fuel corporate growth. Society can only profit by rehabilitating prisoners so they return to their communities as productive citizens. This young man will continue to be a drain on his communities' assets when, with a little assistance, he could be an asset.

12 February 2005 10:31 p.m.

Just got up and ate some biscuits I had from supper with some syrup I had from breakfast. The pancakes were so gummy seemed a waste of good syrup to eat them. They went down multiuse disposal unit, toilet, and I saved the syrup in hope of better luck later. Had lots of biscuits and saved them. Biscuits and syrup is a snack dear to a 'bama boy's heart. Now I'm having cheese bites, washed down with coffee to try to wake up. Got some work to do writing a few pages on this next chapter. never begrudge an artist with words the fortune their labors bring them. Writing is as hard as doing construction work and less likely to pay cash too. That's a perfect metaphor because writing and construction are both about building. The only difference is in the material used and words are much heavier and harder to manipulate into position.

14 February 2005 8:11 a.m.

Changing my diet to meat free, basically vegetarian except I get eggs, has revealed to me the brainwashing in our culture that has everyone believing that a diet without meat is unhealthy and low in protein. Eating meat daily, often more than once per day, is very new historically. In the 1800s most people in cities were lucky to eat meat once per week. It was considered a privileged treat then. Only in the 1900s did eating meat begin to be thought of as a requirement for proper nutrition. Yet, meat is hard to digest and the industrial production of meat in great quantities causes extreme damage to the environment. Add to this mad cow disease, SARS, and Avian Flu and the eating of meat becomes a health risk easily avoided without consequence and think of all the animal suffering prevented.

7:52 p.m.

My blood pressure is back to normal. Hate to admit letting a guard steal my cool and make me so angry that I not only screamed but cussed. It was a petty problem. She didn't have the required sandwich that goes with my meat free tray. The last time she as over here working she had a similar problem and I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Her word was so useless that time that all I had left for her was doubt, no benefit to it. She forgot and I expected her to forget again if I didn't remind her of the last time. That was when she got hostile because I told her her word was no good. I had hoped to shame her into doing her job instead she went to screaming at me and I went to screaming back and gave her a thorough cussing. That didn't help the situation. I caught myself and got a grip on my normal demeanor. Since our conflict was out of hand I tried to get another good officer to mediate and diffuse the problem. Instead this crazy woman came and screamed at me some more for going over her head. That had only made it worse. I refused to feed into this conflict and went and lay down. That left her screaming at my door, but I ignored it. She got furious when I wouldn't keep arguing. When she came with the sandwich she stood in front of my cell door holding it up and pretending she didn't know who it went to, asking the other prisoners if they wanted it. A childish game to play with a grown man who knows he'll probably die in prison. I held tight to my temper and went and asked her name, making her give it to me by holding the tray slot open when she opened it to hand me the sandwich. She ran off to call her supervisor intent to roll me to level-3. I guess she realized how many rules she had violated with all this and wanted to talk. I agreed to listen if she'd show me the same respect and listen to what I said once she finished. Though she kept interrupting my turn she did listen. Finally she had to admit she had started screaming first and refused to listen to me at all. I had spoken n respectful tones until she started yelling, then I cussed her. It was my only weapon from behind this door and I got her to see that. After she calmed, and we both had apologized for our wrong, I began to talk to her about stepping outside of professional conduct as she did pretending not to know where my sandwich went in an attempt to initiate more conflict. You see, above my cell door there are two letters, an S and an A that stand for staff assaultive. I took the time to make her see why I try so hard to not lose my temper and to reign it in when it gets away from me. I can't afford to allow myself to develop a cold fury that time cannot absolve. The worst thing is that she is normally a decent person. Today she and I just rubbed each other wrong. The difference is that she went home at 6:00 p.m. and I'm still here, will probably die here, and if we hadn't resolved our problems I'd be sitting in this lonely cell ruminating on the wrong I had been done. Until we talked she didn't realize the danger of her actions. Outs was a rare settlement of such disputes. Maybe the talk I had with her will make her reevaluate the way she handles her job. If so it might save her life. There are prisoners with nothing to lose who might not be willing to forgive and forget such a disrespect. Lots of them would say they had and pretend it was over to assure a chance to retaliate. In the end we are both lucky that I'm not the man I once was because the price for both of us would have been more than either of us wanted to pay. Guards have a tendency to forget how fraught prison is with dangers. To forget is to court disaster.

15 February 2005 5:23 a.m.

It's been a restless night. How close I came to the abyss yesterday. After such an argument I'm drained of energy and left trying to restore my outer calm. Stilling the inner storms of fury doesn't come easy, or without a price. Even my health suffers when I get so terribly stressed out. There is no way to release such anger and be true to my commitment of living without violence. I've been left to attempt eating the coals of my rage. That done, I have to wait for all the blisters to heal. I'll have to apologize to the lady officer for asking her to intercede in that mess. Hate I got her involved. If only all officers conducted themselves as she does. If ifs were fifths we'd all stay drunk.

16 February 2005 10:35 a.m.

Been busy trying to cull my property down to the legal limit of 2 cubic feet. About a third of my current amount. Once I get it to 3 cubic feet I'll be happy. Had to write and find out because a neighbor was insisting we were only allowed to have one chain bag of property shipped if we were transferred to another prison. The only rule that limits property is the policy that limits it to 2 cubic feet excluding electronics which you're not required to keep in your locker. I'll have to do more research because I don't think commissary counts. You can buy 3 cubic feet of food for just $60.00. That's every two weeks, too. Chips and soups are fluffy. It is probably only concerning books and papers which are a fire hazard.

17 February 2005 2:58 p.m.

Brought the next chapter of my book to a possible close, but find myself considering covering a bit more time. It'll make this one longer than I had planned. It seems my writing plan has made each subsequent chapter longer than the one preceding it. Aesthetically it seems to be working, though I won't be sure until I'm finished. Only 3 or 4 chapters left to go and I can with good conscience put it all to rest in the hands of my number one fan, favored reader and editor. it will need some more work but be mostly complete. It would be nice to see my ife in print with all the advice it carries to those who may follow the path I have walked. AT worst it will show prison in a harsh light, revealing its reality while giving directions for a way out.

19 February 2005 10:27 a.m.

My across the way neighbor warned me that the officer had placed the cheese sandwich I get with my meat free diet tray on my neighbor's door. Rather than tell the officer I decided to see where my neighbor's head was at. He took it, even though it had my name and cell number on it, as I figured he would. I've expected him to be prone to "me-ism," a mentality that is rampant in Texas prison. Now with sure proof I won't feel guilty about totally cutting him off. Just recently he asked to buy enough instant coffee to make a cup and I gave him some without charge. Today he is ready to put me in a position to have to fuss with a guard about part of my diet or do without. He'll never get another handout from me. If he had done the right thing I would have felt obligated to help him out. He only hurt himself by his selfish action. No matter how often this happens to some people they never learn that you reap as you sow.

20 February 2005 11:42 a.m.

Why do female guards screech no matter how calmly you speak to them? It seems kind speech incites them to scream, though it usually occurs when I'm trying to point out a mistake in the making. Here she stood, with the bread in hand that should go on my meat free diet tray when my neighbor went to talking her out of it. He was trying to run game on her and leave me with the fall out. Living next door to an idiot hobo isn't easy. I very politely told her the bread went on my trap, as she well knew, and this starving hobo went to chanting, "My tray, my tray," and she got all frustrated. Did she yell at this Ethioian? No. She had to screech at me, "You already have cornbread on your tray!" True, but so did he and he is on a regular diet. On meat free extra bread is necessary to go with the peanut butter we are served. She wasn't even professional enough to apologize. Since she and I are both white and the hobo is black race played a major part in this conflict. It is deemed safer to scream at a fellow white than one of the teeming ignorant blacks who are usually the catalyst for the hostility. That's why I like black guards best. They are fairer and less likely to let scum, like my neighbor, intimidate them.

21 February 2005 2:11 p.m.

It's one of those days when I can't get motivated. Got lots that needs to be done too. Prison is generally depressing and these solitary confinement cells add low grade sensory deprivation to that. You just have to ride it out until you feel better. Prisoners may deal with more of this, but I'm sure freeworld folks have it too or Prozac wouldn't sell so well. Maybe it's just human nature to let the weight of life bear down on you sometimes. The cure is till the same. You have to ride it out. If it doesn't go away in a week you know you are in real trouble. Could be cause by my country music countdown not playing yesterday. That's reason to be depressed for a countryboy. Gretchen Wilson is singing her hit, "When I Think of Cheating." That is pretty enough to lift this old rebel boy's spirits.

Same day, later, 7:49 p.m.

Patrick has made my journal again with his Christian intolerance. He wants me to respect his views, and I do where religion is concerned, yet he sees nothing wrong with using metaphors that compare my non-Christian beliefs to shooting myself in the head and making myself sick by over eating. I'm supposed to let him explain his remarks and say they didn't mean anything like I think. When I don't believe him he brings up an old argument we had about freedom of speech. As an example of his right he screamed "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!" out his cell door. I agreed he had that right and to show him why he should restrain himself from offending those around him I yelled "Jesus sucks dicks@" out my cell door. Today he informed me that I only said that because he had earlier called Kerry an idiot. Though I did complain about his using derogatory language in a discussion of politics it had nothing to do with my later statement. For this he has called me a liar. Many things I am, but liar I am not.

23 February 2005 12:10 p.m.

Have had a couple of very depressing days due to the argument with my regular nemesis, Patrick. The be all and end all of his existence is his Christianity. He misses no opportunity to proclaim his "Faith" and his "Spiritual Nature." He hasn't realized that if you have to tell people for them to notice you have a problem. Never have I known someone so very miserable. Maybe that is why we don't get along. it must be hard to see someone you consider anathema to your religion refuse to allow their circumstances to keep them down. Where I refuse to mope about my fate, Patrick is beseeched by miseries. Guess it is hard depending on divine intervention, left wondering what you have done to not deserve intervention when you are so sure of your spiritual perfection. With no faith in such divine guidance I am left with only my own efforts to better my conditions. It may seem strange but what has changed my life most is realizing the world can not revolve around me because I am part of the world. If I am part of the world then I must contribute to the common good of all others in the world. Expecting nothing in return for my efforts my joy is knowing I have done what I can to leave the world a better place than when I entered it. If nothing else I can at least try to undo some of the damage I have done. Guess you don't have to consider your past if you think you are forgiven. That could be why so many Christians are unable to shed their miseries and embrace life.

24 February 2005 6:01 p.m.

Finished a wonderful journey to my favorite place. Yes, Redwall Abbey. It is his newest, "Rakkety Tam," by the ever wonderful Brian Jacques. Went to store and bought some stamps and a few banana moonpies. Those are irresistible to a child of MardiGras. Had to have two new pencils too. Why do pencils always run out of eraser before they run out of lead? The erasers should be bigger or else I should make fewer mistakes. The whole point of using pencils is the ability to erase and make changes. Wish the store would return to selling big erasers again. Now I'm off to read all my magazines. Catching up slowly.

25 February 2005 9:53 p.m.

Tonight I was notified that my essay, Prison Sexuality, won the Honorable Mention in the PEN Writing Awards for Prisoners 2004 contest. How gratified I feel to find some acclaim for the worth of my writing. My opinions are so different that acceptance has been a long time coming. This is the break I needed to get my work in publication. Not for monetary gain. That is irrelevant because Texas prison would only confiscate my money as well as my typewriter for operating a business. It is my goal to inform the public about prison. It cannot remain unchanged once revealed by the light of truth.

26 February 2005 3:53 p.m.

Today has been spent in success induced euphoria. Wrote a long letter to PEN giving them the personal info they had requested and crafted the one sentence I'm allowed to describe myself that will be read along with my essay. Also, security finally delivered my new mattress. My old one was compacted after 18 months of use and only good for insulating me from the steel of my bunk. It wasn't any softer and was so flat that it had a tendency to slide down between the bunk and wall. My new one is thick and fluffy soft. Totally luxurious, though if compared to a free world bed would be considered hard and lumpy. Wonder how many motel rooms are refused every day due to beds more comfortable than my new mattress.

27 February 2005 1:44 p.m.

My weekend has been spent overawed that I won Honorable Mention from PEN. Can't wait to see who my mentor will be. Don't guess it could be the president of PEN, Salman Rushdie. Wouldn't that be a Hoot? Whomever my mentor is they will be a new voice to give me further insights into how my writing can be improved. My memoir will profit from constructive criticism. Man! It's like being a kid waiting for Christmas morning to come. it is as if all my work is finally bearing fruit. it is nice to harvest from a field worthy of reaping. After years of planting weeds and thistles I have finally applied myself to planting things I want to pick later. My main crop of late has been honesty. Not just honesty with others, but honesty with me. Until you face your past truthfully you'll never be able to change, and I don't want to live as I once did ever again.

28 February 2005 8:28 a.m.

At times conflict can bring about good results. Yesterday the lady guard who was so insanely hostile on 02-14-05 worked this wing. Not only was she nice to me, which could be attributed to fear, she was also nice to everyone she dealt with. She is trying to change her persona. That is deserving of kudos. There is no way to be sure this change is permanent, but there is reason to hope we have created a professional Corrections Officer. Surely the seeds are planted that can make her a different person. All of us will do better time for it, even her, and she can be proud of how she conducts herself. It's not easy to be a professional when you are surrounded by children n uniforms playing prison guard. I think I have reason to be proud of the part I played in her change and I really hope it becomes habit. She is a nice lady and no need of acting any other way because she works as a prison guard.

1 March 2005 10:53 a.m.

We had green beans today at lunch. They make me nervous since the time I worked preparing them to be cooked. There were boxes of beans that had been frozen and then thawed for us to snap and string. The centers were globs of white, fuzzy fungus. We would throw out the white mess and then prepare the remaining wilted beans for cooking. When they serve me green beans I see visions of the rot and wonder how much was in the pot. Don't get me wrong, I eat them anyway. If you stop eating because of what may be in the food you'll starve. You do learn to be cautious eating prison food. Many of my beans had worm holes today. Those I threw away. Where there is a worm hole there may be a worm. The smart prisoner eats for fuel and ignores the taste while keeping his eyes open for evidence of creatures he doesn't want, or intend, to eat if he can help it. You try not to think about the things you might miss or the possible actions of vindictive prisoners working in the kitchens. Pissing in the jello was a rampant rumor in the days when jello was served. We don't get that anymore due to the gelatin being a bi-product of pork that can't be served to the Muslims. I know lots of people who have found grasshoppers and I've found roaches myself. Cockle burrs and briars are in the collards often. If prisoners are so willing to serve such ill prepared food to their peers, you have to wonder what they might do to food served in the Officer's Dining Room. With that in mind, officers are pretty stupid to eat here; but they do. Maybe later we can discuss the possibilities of foreign matter in fast food due to disgruntled employees. The next time you witness some asshole customer giving the staff a hard time and holding up the line you can be sure they have the odd booger, or worse, in their burger.

2 March 2005 10:23 p.m.

Today has been a long day and I've slept it away. Got up tonight and caught up on all my work, except for my history lesson. I'll get that done over the weekend and return to book writing. I'm planning to submit a chapter from a fantasy book I'm writing, it's on hold while I do this memoir, to this year's PEN awards. Well, I plan to keep busy and keep on trying to make a difference in my own life by writing and I hope that in the process I can make a difference in other people's lives as well.

3 March 2005 4:45 p.m.

For some reason prisoners are more likely to yell and cuss at good officers. I just don't understand it, not for the life of me. Today we had one of the best kind of officers working the wing. He always smiles and has a kind word for all of us. He goes out of his way, risking getting in trouble, to help us pass books, magazines, and other goods between cells. Race plays no part in his actions. He is a black man and I'm white, yet he passes for me as quickly as he does a Hispanic or black prisoner. Often he is making extra trips to perform tasks he is not required to perform. With all of this an inmate was yelling and cussing him for not sweeping the run as policy requires before and after meals are served. That is sure to be done sooner or later, a couple of times a day at least. Why be hostile to this good man when you can wait and take it out on some hard ass guard that deserves it later on?

4 March 2005 6:11 p.m.

The more I think about it the more excited I get. It seems my writing is destined to have an impact that outlives me. That is my hoped immortality. In writing my thoughts will live on to touch unknown generations, in and out of prison. That makes life have savor and gives me great joy. It is also a heavy burden of responsibility. It is easy to forget that writings, even mine, have such potential. Always I must be true to myself and speak honestly. That assures that many disagree with my opinions. That is fine as long as they can never accuse me of being untrue to my vision.

5 March 2005 6:33 p.m.

Will be mailing my first two theme essays to Gary Monday. H ate to be behind so did Religion and Self Control. Don't like Self Control much. It isn't as good as it could/should be. Should be ashamed for doing shoddy work. In the way of these things it could be better than I think. That is often the case. Starr found two mistakes in my Religion essay. I would have sworn that one was perfect. Nothing major. One was a typo and the other was a verb tense problem where I used live and meant to use life. Now, back to an excellent memoir. I recommend "Palimpsest" by Gore Vidal to all highly. What wouldn't I give to have his ear for language? His writing seems simple, yet it sings with harmonies. He is one of the greatest of all American writers. I'm considering trying to read all of his best work. Some I have read already.

7 March 2005 4:17 a.m.

My patience is being tried. My new neighbor grates on my nerves. Since we are both white you'd think I'd enjoy the novelty since it's so rare to have a white neighbor. No such luck. He is a "wigger." For those who don't know that is a white nigger and these are not terms I usually use. This man has taken his wish to be black to extremes. He even joined the "Crips" street gang. There are too may black "Crips" who are good friends of mine, but I just can't accept a white joining forces with a group that is so often at war with whites. In Texas "Crip" is synonymous with blackness and in prison race is a major factor in most violence. I wonder how far he'd go to help "Crips" rob, rape, and steal from his fellow whites who are weak? How far does his traitorous conduct go? Worst of all I can't see any of the good traits in him that has made so many "Crips" friends. He seems to play his role to the fullest by portraying all the stereotypes the black race works so hard to rise above. He is ignorant, loud, belligerent, and disrespectful. Mostly, I just wish he'd been born black so I wouldn't have to admit there are whites with such traits, though I know there are. Guess it just goes to show that we are all human and, as such, capable of a wide ranging variety of conduct. It's strange to realize how common the traits I just mentioned are. In him I recognize that I am still capable of prejudice in my judgments. If he was black I would have expected him to act just as he does, so why should I expect more out of him due to the color of his skin being the same as my own, or less if it was different?

8 March 2005 6:49 a.m.

Typed three pages of the newest chapter of my book this morning and though there was nothing wrong, no misspellings or typos in the text, two pages will have to be redone. Why I shard to explain. They are not technically wrong and yet not right. More a matter of clarifying meanings, the kind of thing I wouldn't even have noticed a short time ago. I've made a decision to pull away from some of my other commitments and make better use of my energy and resources for writing. Even doing less reading of the frivolous kind would help. Just want to apply myself totally to what I've come to see as my art.

9 March 2005 12:06 a.m.

Went out to recreation and got some fresh air. Today is one of those days when this tiny cell seems too small to hold me. The fabulous shrinking cell syndrome. For now I'm going to work on reworking two sections of a fantasy novel I have started. I want to enter one of these in the fiction category at PEN this year unless I come up with something else between times. First, I'd like to submit them to a couple of magazines in hope of selling them to those markets. Both seem excellent, though I'll have to make some changes so they can stand alone. Any time I lay some of my writing aside for a few months it seems to need work when I look at it again. As my abilities grow I have to bring old stuff up to date before using it. Will be going over my piece "Path Beyond" soon and getting it ready for submission to a magazine too. I'm sure it will need lots of work since I've not looked at it in months.

10 March 2005 4:02 p.m.

Seems news writers have become semi-illiterate. Today I have heard two news reports that were incomprehensible. "A Huntsville man lost his life when he died..." I should hope so. Who wrote that redundant crap? I wonder. This morning I heard an A.P. reporter use minor and miner in the same report. Why not say mine workers since the reporter intended to report minor injuries just to assure complete understanding? To think this was the work of college educated people says a lot about the state of education in America. Guess I have a future in writing news reports if I can get a degree to say I know how.

11 March 2005 2:39 p.m.

Spent a hard day typing this chapter. All four pages I typed yesterday had to be redone and even had to do one of them twice. Then I typed three more pages. I'll proof read it all tomorrow. It's a headache to retype whole pages for any reason. This really griped my ass because they were not technically wrong. The text just didn't flow. It had a fragmented, stilted sound as I read it. That is unacceptable. It's time I started living up to my potential and if that means retyping whole pages ten times each so be it. Guess I'll start getting it right the first time when I get tired of retyping them. My expectations for my writing are getting higher as I learn to see where I fall short.

12 March 2005 8:30 a.m.

The lady officer who escorted me back from recreation shocked me by being so very candid. She has joined the Air Force to get away from working in a prison. It's not the prisoners who have forced her to change her career, but her male coworkers who think it proper to squeeze her breast. She was really upset and rightly so. I hate to see such a good, professional officer leave and I'll worry about her being sent to Iraq. Have to hope she is okay. At least she won't be in prison any longer.

13 March 2005 12:00 p.m.

Free world people wonder why whites develop such prejudices when in southern prisons, even when they didn't have them before prison, against blacks. It's easily explained by what just happened to me. A black tried to buy some instant coffee and I gave him some. Should have been a happy moment. Instead he didn't even want it for himself. He wanted it to try to con his neighbor out of a magazine. I gave it to him and could care less what he did with it, but he told his neighbor I wanted to buy the magazine to get him to send it to him. He just wanted to look at it, but it put me in the middle of a mess. The next thing I know I have his white psycho of a neighbor screaming at me, talking crazy, about playing games with his magazine. All because I treated this black man like a fellow human being and he proved to be another member of the N-Squad.

15 March 2005 8:43 a.m.

Just put the next chapter out on the door for the mailroom to pick up. Being candid about a decadent life isn't easy without tripping across the line into porn. I think I got the tone right, but I won't be sure until I hear back about this one. Guess I can do some work on rewriting prior chapters with a bit deeper insight into my life.

16 March 2005 5:33 p.m.

What a day. Recently the P.A. took me off of the Diet For Health, DFH, that I was on due to high blood pressure. Now my B. P. is up and they act like they don't know why. It was fine until that. I have not taken the medication since he went up to two pills per day and it puts me to sleep. I don't want to sleep what little life I have left away. They checked my B.P. yesterday and I guess it was so high it scared them into doing it over today. I had warning so took a double dose of medication and made sure it was low. After they did the B.P. check I came back to my cell and slept. Wish I could just refuse the B.P. meds, but I'm afraid that would give them an excuse to not give me my HIV medication. That forces me to play silly games. It would be easier on us all if I could be honest and have some say in my treatment program. My B.P. is only borderline high except when I drink too much coffee and I refuse to give up one of the few pleasures I have left. so the game will continue, what a mess.

17 March 2005 2:26 p.m.

Finally go woke up. Been trying to get into this new book, "Collapse" by Jared Diamond, that came in the mail last night. It's good, but a heavy read. I never read real fast and I'm slower on things I'm trying to absorb. Just normal boring prison today. Some are like that. Robert Blake was found not guilty of murder in California on his circumstantially based murder charges. Scott Peterson was given the death penalty for his murder conviction on a totally circumstantial case. If he is guilty I've got no problem with his sentence, but somehow the death penalty doesn't seem appropriate when a case is purely circumstantial. It is too easy to build a case on circumstantial evidence against an innocent person. In such cases the risk of putting an innocent person to death is too great. If you lock a person up you can return their freedom, but you can never return life to one put to death no matter how great the evidence of innocence. AS to Michael Jackson's charges, I'm convinced he is guilty. That seems horrible, but after all the trouble he had with his relationships with teenage boys he is guilt of stupidity for continuing them if not all the rest. Aggravated stupidity should carry a life sentence then we could get rid of lots of politicians. A death penalty would be appropriate for repeat stupidity offenses once they are incarcerated for the first offense. We might cull the gene pool and create a more intelligent humanity. at least Michael Jackson isn't passing on his genes. Hopefully you all will realize that those two kids are not biologically his. If not go watch some Jackson-5 clips and then compare Jacko and the kids. You should see what I mean. If not, oh well, look again closer.

18 March 2005 1:08 p.m.

I went out to recreation today. Instead of my allowed 60 minutes I got about 25 minutes. It's a shame that the staff gets away with this. As a level one custody ad-seg prisoner I have much to lose if I refuse to come in early. They will take my level one and make me a level three. Then I won't have electronics or commissary privileges and only get half as much recreation, 3 days per week instead of my current 7 days. They don't pull this on level three prisoners because they have nothing to lose and will refuse to come in. That is why a sergeant is supposed to be present when recreation is being run. None was here, but why complain when they are as likely to screw us over as the regular officers are. Once I was a level three and didn't have to consider the consequences of my actions. There's a lot of freedom in being bad. Now, even if I'm totally in the right, I will likely suffer for not doing as told. Officers can lie and have my level dropped to take away my privileges or an officer can break my typewriter or radio during a routine shake down and then confiscate it for being broken. He'll just say he found it that way and who will they believe if I say different? My word would mean nothing against an officer's. That is one of the biggest problems with being in prison. You have malicious, immature individuals in positions of authority, enforcing rules and regulations in the way that makes their job easiest. It's a formula for hatred and animosity and the only solution is to train officers in proper conduct and then see they are supervised. Doubt I'll live to see that happen, but the next time you hear a report of an officer being killed or injured by a prisoner stop to ask yourself why.

19 March 2005 7:05 p.m.

Today was productive. Wrote an essay I call, "Imprisoned Childhood" and I think it's a good one. Will send it to my reader to get a second opinion. I'm always scared of stuff I think is good. It has a tendency to be crap and not worth the effort. We'll see but it takes a week.

21 March 2005 1:05 p.m.

Lunch came in a brown paper sack today. that means we are locked down for shakedown. They do two major shakedowns per year in an attempt to seem concerned about our possession of contraband. I'm not big on contraband so not much bothered by the shakedowns. It does conflict my plan to go to commissary Thursday. Guess it just wouldn't have been right. Wait one week and let me have a house full of goodies to munch on to supplement these nasty sandwiches. Yeah it wouldn't be the same if I was opening a bag of chips and some bean dip today. At least I have plenty of tea and enough stamps to get me through. I've gotten real good at managing my money. It's been a treat to have money to manage. Have not been really broke in nearly two years now. Wow! Time sure flies when you're having fun. Typed my theme essay on LOVE this morning. I do believe "Love Fission" is beautifully done. Though it's short it's worthy of pride. Wonder what everyone else will think of it. That's always the question.

22 March 2005 5:30 a.m.

It's day two of this lockdown. Maybe I'll get out and open the Lock down Diet Program. A row of cells for clients and all they get is their prescribed diet. We hold them until they lose the weight they claimed to want to lose or their money runs out, whichever comes first. Ha! Send us your chubby kids and we'll slim 'em down fast. Whine if you want to we won't hear it. Been writing some of the theme writing essays. This one on parole maybe one of my too honest writing efforts. It's the truth of how I feel, though. So, it'll have to do.

23 March 2005 6:47 p.m.

The shakedown is done. Now it's just a matter of waiting out the lockdown. You feel very violated when they tear through your property. Lots of my writing is sorted in separate envelopes. Of course they have to mix it all together. It'll take time to get it sorted out again where I can find anything. Boy, I'm going to eat some goodies store day when they finally let us go. I've promised myself a whole bag of chips with bean dip and picante sauce for supper that day and moonpies for dessert too. This day has tired me out. got my History Scholar course from College Guild done. I held it too long. Now I'm mostly caught up except for typing these journal entries. This month won't be as bad as the last two.

24 March 2005 4:52 p.m.

Supper came on a tray tonight. That means we are off lockdown, it's over. Now all I have to do is hold out until store runs. Could be tomorrow and it could be next week. No way to know until it happens. They may not even run a makeup store and make us wait two weeks. But, they should since we only get one chance at store every two weeks in ad-seg. Most places let ad-seg go every week. Wrote a new non-fiction piece that reads like fiction. "Daddy's Stand" is based on a real family event. It may be my breakthrough first sell. That would be a nice thing to have happen.

Bad news today, we are not going to get a makeup store day. They are doing the monthly inventory and we have to wait until our regular store day on 04/07/2005. That's a long hard time when my stamps are almost gone. Have two left and that won't last me one week, much less two. Witnessed the results of the Reagan administration cutting funding to mental hospitals. A prisoner, known to be psychologically impaired, went to a more restrictive custody level today. He was only being dropped from level one to level two and deserved it for his constant flooding for months, but he went off the deep end and broke his hundred dollar typewriter, took out the roller and began the beat the cell door and scream. He flooded the run some more and kept on beating white screaming threats until he hurt his finger. That was all it took to calm him down. He begged to go to medical and they cuffed him and took him away like a child. He's too crazy to be in prison. He has less than two years until he gets out, he's going to discharge and not even be on parole, maybe moving to your neighborhood.

26 March 2005 4:37 p.m.

Got the Jared Diamond book, "Collapse," down to Starr. My part in keeping my word to see it gets to my other friend, Big Happy, is done. The rest of my word is dependent on Starr keeping it for me. It's rare that I vouch for other prisoners, but Starr is honorable. Such honor is no more rare in prison than in the free world. The difference is that the prison environment is more likely to cause individuals to reveal their true natures. It seems that honorable people are much rarer than they once were in the world at large. For some prison becomes a catalyst for reevaluating values and making changes. The only thing a prisoner owns that can't be taken from him is his word. Gives new meaning to honor, where keeping your word is concerned, when you realize your word is all you have.

27 March 2005 10:17 p.m.

The weekend is done. those are my markers for weeks completed. You always wonder how many you'll have to do. Even if you're never getting out you wonder what your sum total will be in the end. Too damn may is the probable conclusion you'll come up with. Should get books this week. There are some coming, one is a Gore Vidal I wanted to read. Well, just got up from a long nap. My schedule is too weird, more like non-existent. It's turned chilly here in Texas. Last cold snap of the year I guess. It'll be a burning hell soon enough.

28 March 2005 10:38 a.m.

TDCJ is doing one of their silly shuffles of prisoners. Some are going up to other wings and my buddy Starr is being moved to a new cell on this wing. He was fixing to act very immature and not go willingly until I talked him into it. It's hard being moved around at the whim of an authority you have little or no respect for. More often than not these shuffles cause a rise in discontent and can bring about violence. It often seems the moves have an ultimate objective to assure no unity between prisoners. If a few of us hurt each other as a result of these moves the administration will find the price cheap and the goal met. When you have a culturally diverse group, as you do with prisoners, it takes time for them to adjust to new neighbors. A large shuffle breaks the friendly relations of prolonged knowledge and adds in unknowns. How can this not cause animosity?

Earlier this month I judged a man by his race and affiliation with the Crips street gang. I never gave him a chance. A white Crip had to be scum. I even went so far as to call him a "Wigger." In the short time since I've known him I've come to like him. If he'd been black and a Crip I'd have been willing to give him the benefit of doubt. Because he is white I did not. in the end I've come to respect him. He was a Crip before he came to prison and man enough to stand by his affiliations. It must have been a hard life. I don't have to agree with his ways to respect him as a man. Honor can be a hard burden to bear and he has borne it well. Once I thought about if it was easier to respect him as a person for sticking to his prior commitments in a world where they alienated him than to respect those white who join Aryan Supremacist Gangs and embrace their tenets in a search for protection when they don't agree with them.

30 March 2005 4:42 p.m.

Today my anger nearly got the better of me. It is so frustrating at times. At clothing exchange I showed the officer that the jumper they were giving me was way too short because someone had cut it off at the knees. He did not care and refused to give me another one. It's days like this that make me miss the past when I was willing to hurt officers like this one. I just refused the jumper and now will have none. This was the third time they did this to me and it was beginning to aggravate me. Best to not have one. Don't really need one unless I'm going across the street to medical an for that the officer will have to get me one or I'll go in my boxer shorts.

31 March 2005 10:38 p.m.

This month has been a month of revelations and change. Yet, my life is mostly as it was. It seems that people outside of prison think our lives stop while we are imprisoned. That is not so. We lust and learn and think, though some think less than others and learn not at all. More and more I've found ability to control my temper. Recognizing that it is fueled by false pride has helped. Old habits die hard and when I feel someone has mistreated me or disrespected me the flames still rise only now I see their source and give them nothing to burn so that they must die away. Not an easy task to realize that another's actions can't touch my pride. My pride is in the positive things I accomplish and no one's opinion can touch that.

1 April 2005 8:10 p.m.

It's a new month full of hope and expectations. Though they are most likely to go unfulfilled, hope is essential to my survival. N ot hope for the things most of my fellow prisoners spend all their time wishing for. My wishes are simpler. All I want from life is a good book for company, the tools to continue my writing and to be left alone by the staff. If they'll just give me what I have coming and treat me with a modicum of respect that all humans deserve I'll be happy. Respectful treatment is probably asking for too much, but I like to think big.

2 April 2005 11:21 p.m.

It seems to me this is to be a hard month. They are, once again, waking us at every 2 hour count. This comes and goes. Though it is sleep deprivation, as such is torture. They swear this is for our safety and they care about our well-being. If safety is the issue why not man the panic buttons in our cells and allow us access to call for assistance. If we have an emergency? To show the contradiction in their rules is so simple. In the daytime the lights are turned on for count, but from 10:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m. they are not allowed to turn on the lights. This is to assure our sleep period isn't disturbed. Then some officers beat on our cell doors every two hours saying they have to be sure we are alive. So many officers hate to see us sleeping when they have to be awake. If they wish to breed hatred in the hearts of prisoners, and high security houses the most dangerous prisoners in Texas, this is a good way to start. If you refuse to answer they beat long enough to assure you are awake if you are alive and then they leave. The rules say they are to call a supervisor if they don't get a response any time they are contacting a prisoner. That they don't is proof positive that this is only cruelty. Seems strange that this only started after the rape and murder of a female officer on another prison unit. A month after her death the retaliation starts.

4 April 2005 4:17 p.m.

It seems the news has been filled with death for months. Two little girls kidnapped and killed, Terry Schiavo finally being allowed to find peace and the Pope's slip beyond the veil. The first two were tragic horrors where the innocent potential of two children was stolen by sick men and yet both of these together didn't receive the news coverage given to either of the other two. Terry Schiavo had been brain dead for 15 years and the Pope was a very old man of 84 who had been fulfilled, even surpassed, all of his dreams. Why do we not rejoice when the old and injured find peace? Worst of all, the media gives little, or no, coverage to the many innocent children who are dying as collateral damage to the bombs and bullets of war. In Palestine American made munitions are used daily to kill the innocent. In Iraq those American arms are manned by Americans and are killing off a generation of Iraqi children. When will we realize that America wins no friends with her bombs and bullets? If only we'd spend half as much on food and medicine and doctors to care for the needy in the world America would be the safest, most loved country of all.

6 April 2005 2:11 a.m.

What a world we live in when my hundred dollar typewriter is considered disposable, as opposed to being repairable. Wish I could have gotten an old manual. It might not do all the cute stuff this electric does but it'd last 20 years, or more. Everybody pray hard that I can sell some of my writing and buy a new one before this one dies completely. Should be able to coax another year out of it and by then I'll have a plan.

7 April 2005 10:18 p.m.

Of all the things for Commissary to be out of it had to be typewriter ribbons. I've got to get a multi-strike ribbon and a cover up cassette for use on important magazine submissions. Oh well, in prison you only have one store, in ad-seg you only get one chance to go every two weeks, and if you don't keep an emergency supply of necessities you can get stuck out. The motto of the Boy scouts serves me well here, "Be prepared." So many never budget their money. I've seen fellow prisoners who go to the store every time and spend the maximum allowed, $60.00, be out of the things they need because they wasted their money on things they wanted. A few years back they sold two brands of coffee. Nescafe for $3.00 per bag and John Foster Green for $1.60. Every time I made store 'd buy a bunch of the cheap coffee and be made fun of, but in less than a week guys would be at my cell door begging me for a cup of coffee. Had to refuse them to teach them a lesson, but it went a lot further. They made a choice to drink the expensive stuff and couldn't afford enough to last and support their coffee habit. Since they assured me every store day they were too good to drink JFG I'd have hated to be responsible for enticing them into lowering their high standards.

8 April 2005 7:03 a.m.

Why'd we humans insist on the elaborate waste of funerals? Today is the Pope's and the money being spent seems a waste. I heard a report on the radio news of President Bush, his father and Ex-president Clinton reminiscing about their prior contacts with Pope John-Paul II. He had urged Bush Sr. to not invade Iraq in Desert Storm, Clinton not to bomb Bosnia and Bush Jr. not to invade Iraq this time around. All three ignored his advice and did as they pleased. If they didn't respect him enough in life to heed his advice, and they certainly didn't, then why go to his funeral? It'd seem a better monument to me would have been to respect him while he lived. So we waste millions of dollars to send politicians to the funeral of a man they didn't revere enough to let him restrain their violence. In the end we all are just meat when the spark of life is extinguished. Disposal of the remains should be as fast and inexpensive as possible in a world where so many live in need of health care, food and clean water. As my grandmother used to say, "Give me flowers while I'm alive to enjoy them."

9 April 2005 8:40 a.m.

For some reason I can't get motivated. Chronic depressions is the ever present companion of prisoners and only rarely are the symptoms recognized by those afflicted. In ad-seg it is even more prevalent. I'm losing myself in a fantasy tale by George R. R. Martin and hope to leave my melancholy behind when I return to reality. I wonder how many of my fellow journal writers will admit to days of despair. Will I be the only one to talk of my days in pain? Could be, but a journal of prison life wouldn't be right without it. Pain, depression, and despair are dishes appropriate to be served with punishment.

10 April 2005 10:26 a.m.

Still feel as if I walk in a sunless gloom. I'm trying hard to shake it and yet it clings like a leech feeding on my soul. How to find my way back to joy is my current plight. Maybe if I write some fiction it'll help. Can't hurt at this point. I'm thinking of sending Ramsay the first two sections of my fantasy novel and see what she thinks. If she likes it I'll know it's good because she doesn't read fantasy.

11 April 2005 12:45 p.m.

Still in a major depression. Same shit different day. Got another page of last month's journal entries typed. At this rate I might finish before time to start typing this month's entries. I'd be better if my typewriter wasn't acting up. My typing is slow to start with, but this is ridiculous.

12 April 2005 3:05 p.m.

Finally got March's journal entries typed. I'm glad I got that done. I don't intend to allow myself to get so far behind again. Hope to get a head start on April's entries. Feel a bit better today. Usually I just bounce back from my depressed days. This time th climb back to normal has been hard. Maybe depressed is normal for a prisoner. It is, at least, an understandable reaction to long term incarceration.

13 April 2005 4:30 p.m.

Hope is beginning to return. It's as if my batteries died and had to be recharged. I'm not ready to start working yet, but it won't be long and I will be. The book I'm currently into is helping my mental state. "The Lobster Chronicles," by Linda Greenlaw, is great. A memoir full of honest insights into the people of a small Maine island. Its made me chuckle and that's a sure cure for depression. An interesting lady for sure.

14 April 2005 12:05 p.m.

Got screwed out of recreation by Officer Smith this morning. Ask the wing rover, Officer Garcia, for a sergeant and he blew me off by saying, "The sergeant will just tell you the same thing, you should have been standing in the cell door." When I asked him for his name he got defensive and in the end promised that when they came back to finish taking our wing to recreation he'd see that I got to go. If he keeps his word it'll save me having to write a grievance and I hope he does. I hate writing those.

15 April 2005 2:49 p.m.

Officer Garcia got me to recreation yesterday as he promised. I'll have to make sure to remember him. It is so very rare to find officers that are trustworthy. Got copies of "Daddy's Stand" from Ramsay last night and submitted it to The Sun today. Hope they buy it! Gonna need a new typewriter soon. I'm typing a fantasy piece to submit to a magazine I found in my Writer's Market. It's the first chapter of a fantasy novel and I want to type the next two chapters as a story too. Both are good and can stand alone. This could be a good market for me because I have some damn good work in this genre. Maybe by Christmas I'll be rich by the standards of prison. In truth, I'm well off by prison standards now.

16 April 2005 11:31 a.m.

My neighbor gets out after doing 15 flat years on May 27th, 2005. Every female officer that passes his cell is screaming about his being naked and exposing himself as he masturbates. You have to wonder what is the chance that this 36 year old man will be able to remain free when he has less respect for his fellow human beings than he did when he came to prison 15 years ago. This is another case of the system failing society, but mostly it's a matter of a man failing himself.

17 April 2005 2:01 p.m.

Got a young girl's name and address off the radio last night. She is terminally ill with a cancerous brain tumor and all she wants is to get lots of cards and letters from all over the world. Couldn't think of what to send until I remembered I had a copy of my fantasy story, "Littlest Hero," that had been illustrated by a prisoner in another state. It was one of the first projects I got involved with. I'm sending her my copy and a letter. It's just not fair for a kid to die so young. Her address, April Ries, 315 Park Ave., Manteca, CA, 95337, needs to get spread around. A good project for everyone. Yes, I'm calling on all my friends to see her dream comes true. It's not often I find something I can take part in to make someone's life better. When I do I get busy and make things happen.

18 April 2005 9:47 p.m.

Got a letter from a Helper Elf at Prisoner Express telling me my journal entries were working out. She seemed really sweet. I'm dropping her and Gary letters and sending my Taking a Stand theme essay. One more theme left to do. Have no idea what I'll write for Childhood. I get a few more pages typed on this piece of fantasy fiction and I'm going to send out this draft to Ramsay for her magical editorial touch. Then I'll do a final, perfect draft to submit. Need to sell something.

19 April 2005 11:29 a.m.

The wing officer is a screeching bitch. I feel sorry for her anyway. The SSIs, good trustee type working prisoners, avoid her and she has to feed meals alone. That's a lot of work and by the time she has the dirty trays picked up she's frazzled. Her being slow gets all the prisoners yelling at her and she feeds into the negativity. IN my opinion she is too easy a target. I have more fun being nice to her and laughing at the stunned incomprehension while she decides if I'm serious. You can tell she thinks it's a trick at first. Finally she smiles when she realizes genuine kindness. No, she won't remember and yes, she is likely to screech at me any moment, but she can't help it, it's just her nature.

20 April 2005 10:54 p.m.

Finished typing the first chapter of my fantasy book as a short story. I'm sure it sill needs work, but I'll send it to my editorial mentor and genius of the witty remark to make me do better. she'll let me know and since she is not a fantasy fan anything she likes must be really good. Tomorrow is commissary day! I sure hope they have the ribbons I need and that all my money is there too. It'll be fun to spend a full $60.00. My neighbor is gone to level three because he couldn't resist exposing himself while he masturbated. He gets out on May 27th of this year and after 15 years in prison hasn't even gotten a GED. How can he make it out there with nothing to build on?

21 April 2005 7:16 p.m.

Tonight I got notes Ramsay kept on her trip by train to New York, where she went to see her friend play at Carnegie Hall and to be part of my PEN Awards Honorable Mentioning. It's fabulous the way she made me part of the physical trip and even her thought processes, which are even more interesting. Gary met her there and they went together to the reading. A note in this package from Gary made a reference to my being able to do so much from so far away. My friends are all so humble that they don't realize my ability to touch and be part of society is only due to their friendship. They gave me a chance and opened doors to return me to my community. If not for them I'd still be bound by the walls of prison, instead I'm free.

23 April 2005 6:16 p.m.

I'm doing good on this month's journal entries. Once I type this next page I'll be caught up to where I am on making entries. That beats being behind. It's not easy to let things build up to overwhelming proportions and then not want to do it. Like my memoir, I have to retype and rewrite all of the first four chapters. I see it and I'm in full agreement with the conclusion. Yet, I'm going to procrastinate as long as possible and won't do any more on it until I get what I've done straightened out. Probably do lots of other writing as an excuse to avoid fixing my mess.

24 April 2005 6:38 p.m.

Got my mail ready to go out in the morning. always like to get it done early. Been one of those boring weekends. With no mail on Saturdays and Sundays there isn't much to look forward to. I usually stay in bed and sleep too much. Have a locker box full of nothing I want to read. At times I get bored with reading even though I love books. I'm trying to ease into "A Distant Mirror" by Barbara W. Tuchman. It's a history of the 14th century. The only bright spots on my weekends are my Classic Country show on the radio and the Country Music Top 40 countdown show by Creek and Chase. Those help me make it through.

25 April 2005 4:39 p.m.

Starr nearly got in major trouble when a nasty female guard spit in his supper tray. Yes, I said spit. He jacked the tray slot and made rank come down. All he got was premises to deal with the problem. What is bad isn't that she did this, which is bad enough, but that she is known for such conduct and supervisors seem to condone it. If not they'd have fired her or at least taken her out of ad-seg. This sort of trash should be working in general population where they don't have the protection of a heavy steel door between them and prisoners they screw over. You'd be surprised how a guard's conduct changes when they have to work where the prisoners are unrestrained and looking them in the eyes. If not they get what they deserve and learn the hard way.

26 April 2005 5:24 p.m.

My nose and eyes are burning from the tear gas, but it's sadness that is burning in my heart. My friend, Starr, made them use gas to move him to level three. He was rightly angry at his situation. All because a vindictive guard spit in his tray he must be punished. They knew she did it, but we are expected to accept it. If we don't then we are disobedient and that can never be allowed. It isn't easy for me either. They have mistreated my friend and they never realized how very tempted I am to teach them a lesson about consequences. I have to hold in mind that I can do more good for all prisoners by remaining here on level one and continuing my work writing about prison life. Today I've had to listen while one officer agitated Starr, egging him on by saying, "Don't cop pussy like you usually do," and "Don't be a ho today, stay down." Other officers are laughing and bragging about how they handled him. They did nothing but spray pepper spray in his eyes to blind him and make him submit or suffocate. None of them volunteered to run in his cell alone. Their greatest ignorance is not expecting retaliation from another prisoner. They have become comfortable in thinking all prisoners are alone because in Texas they usually are. Some of us are not from Texas though. Staff depend on their unity and our lack of it for safety. That's why it's so tempting to teach them about the convict ethics of my home state, Alabama, where friends make staff pay for their actions. If they only knew how I 'd love to see the shock and fear on their faces, but I won't.

29 April 2005 8:15 p.m.

Got my five year parole set off tonight. I didn't expect to make it and the biggest shock was how little it bothered me. I'm glad I got the maximum length set off so I don't have to think about it again until 2010. Wish they'd give me a five year set of from release from ad-seg. Those hearings are mandatory every 180 days. Pure stress. My life would be much easier if I had a dependable absolute: "This is your cell, boy. You'll be here for the next 20 years. Make ya self to home." That would suit my disposition best. Let me put up curtains and shelves on the walls. No, they don't really let us do that, but it would be nice. Wall to wall carpet, too! Best of all would be not having to face prospective change at any moment and knowing where I'd be 20 years from now.

30 April 2005 10:33 p.m.

Wrote Ramsay and did some typing. I'll get caught up tomorrow then I want to work up some more fantasy to send to Ramsay later this week. My best prize is when she calls some part of my work "Southern prose."

1 May 2005 9:50 a.m.

Been up getting my work in order all morning. I am now officially caught up on my typing and all my mail is ready to go out in the morning. If they'll bring my lunch I can go to bed. I'm so sleepy I guess I'll miss the Crook and Chase Country Music radio show. Oh well, at least my slate is clean and it's nice and cool in my cell. Being cool assures me a deep restful sleep. Got on the recreation list, but since they'll be late I will just go to bed.

2 May 2005 7:05 a.m.

The white female guard seemed to be shell shocked. My black neighbor has a tendency to push against authority. Their attitudes collided a moment ago and full results are not yet in. She was upset when he did the "dance" we are required to do when stripped. Yet she was the one who made him strip rather than let a male officer do it. That is where we have to lift our testicles, spread our cheeks, open our mouths and lift our feet to show nothing is hidden. He could be only in compliance with the rules. As a convict I know there are two ways to comply. One, is submissive and the other is totally arrogant. By the same token officers can only be enforcing the rules and make you feel ashamed to breathe. When a strip is done professionally, with both guard and prisoner following the rules and showing respect to each other, forgetting the attitudes, it is a clinical process that is less invasive than a doctor's visit. When either or both are being abrasive everyone involved has their dignity degraded. He gave up the slot but lost his recreation privilege. Could be worse.

3 May 2005 4:10 a.m.

It has been a rude night and morning. My new neighbor is psychotic. It's not unusual to have this happen with a person new to ad-seg living. He has been beating on the desk and his desk is bolted to mine through the wall. He beat to wake me up last night swearing he had no idea I was asleep. He wanted tea bags. It's a rule of mine never to reward rude behavior. I told him no and then told him my opinion of his actions. Before that he went off over some distant beating and beat every wall in his cell out of frustration and only added to the clangor. That woke me up too. Tonight the items beat on are metal and connect to mine. You can tell the difference.

8:07 a.m.

It was not my neighbor beating and I had to apologize for my accusations. He had thought it was me too. The culprit is in a cell behind us on another wing. It takes a lot of energy to vibrate my cell from back there. Though the rebar in the concrete does conduct vibrations. It's quiet now, thankfully. This reaction on my part was due to my own paranoia. This tiny cell engenders paranoia in all of us. You have to always be aware of the toll isolation takes on you. It's a constant battle to hold on to your sanity. Many of our problems are a result of this low grade form of sensory deprivation. Those who fail to understand the stress comes from sources outside their control are the most susceptible to its effects.

4 May 2005 4:09 p.m.

Sigh!!! I bit the bullet and turned in my typewriter so I could get approved to buy a new one. If all goes well I'll make it through this if I sleep a lot and I'm hoping it'll only be two weeks this way. Maybe I should write confessions of a typewriter addict. It did allow me to notice that there is a lot of talk in the Hunter S. Thompson commemorative issue of Rolling Stone about supplying him with typewriters and he used IBMs. If being hard on typewriters is a sign of genius then I'm in good company.

5 May 2005 4:39 a.m.

While the officer was doing the paperwork to take my typewriter I told her about my PEN Awards Honorable Mention to explain why I needed a typewriter that worked properly. Her question was the usual about "How much money did you get?" It's a sorry world if the only way to judge the value of a writer's work is by how much money they have made. At this point in my writing I'm so far in the red on writing supplies it would take a major novel of best seller status to show a profit. Then if you spread that money across all the hours spent writing what would never sell, each piece is made better by building on the knowledge of the others, it would be only a few pennies per hour, about the amount prisoners expect for their work, and Texas doesn't even pay that.

6 May 2005 9:48 a.m.

I've found a way to not go crazy without my typewriter. I'm doing a new draft of my fantasy novel longhand. Hope to have a large portion done by the time I get my new typewriter and can start typing it. Writing letters by hand sucks. Got munchies at store yesterday so I'm munching. This morning a user type tried to conduct a deal with me. He made the mistake of trying to run one of his con games using my name back on 03/13/05. Now every time I make store he tries to talk to me and have to cuss him out to remind him why I don't have dealings with him. He can't understand why I won't forget what he did and yet he has never even been human enough to admit his fault and apologize. A good reputation amongst your peers is the one thing that can't be taken from you. There is no one who knows me who would doubt my word once it is given. I've stopped race riots on my word where gangs were involved because when I vouched for a man's honesty there was no doubt anymore. For those that might be wondering, it was a black man I vouched for because I knew he didn't steal. It saved a lot of trouble and maybe some lives. All because my word was known good.

6:02 p.m.

A new record! Patrick, my right wing Christian nemesis neighbor, started talking to me again on 04/26/05 and for a few moments ago went into his Saint Patrick mode, a persona that disgusts me. I'm proud to say I didn't let him steal my cool and simply told him we should stop talking rather than argue. He got so mad because I said, "Anyone who has spent time in prison, especially in ad-seg, will have a period after they get out where it is hard to cope." I stick to that, but he is sure his theology degree will get him through without a transition period. Boy! Wait until he experiences free world church folk. He never did church free, only in ad-seg.

7 May 2005 2:46 p.m.

Not being bothered by polite conversation I have written 13 pages today. Intend to do more later. Less talking lets me be more productive by far. I see why writers hide out to write, disturbances really cut into the flow of creation. It doesn't bother me on shorter works, but on this novel it is hard to keep the whole in mind as I work through it, knowing where I'm going and where I've been. Even when characters hijack the plot for a time it's only a detour in the course of events. The end destination stays the same, only the route changes.

8 May 2005 3:43 p.m.

Been hung up writing all weekend. We didn't get our recreation and it didn't bother me a bit. I went outside today and still got 16 pages done, part of that is a new chapter too. I've had to put 4 chapters between what was chapters 1 and 2. Only a few pages left to write on chapter 4 and I'll have to start the next one. This might be how those mega-epic novels evolve into 10,000 pages. I'm very happy with the way my characters are developing their own distinct natures. It seems they are utilizing me to give them voice. I feel more a tool than a craftsman. Really need someone to read this and say, "Yes, you have succeeded. This is good." Have no one here except Big Happy whose opinion I'd trust and he is not a fiction reader, much less a fantasy reader.

10 May 2005 4:20 p.m.

It's nearly my bedtime. This schedule is proving productive. Wrote 11 pages today. I'll have to go through this whole mess and fine tune it for chronology. Lots of things are happening in different places and times to different characters. Would have gone to recreation today but the staff pulled their tricks to have an excuse to deny a bunch of us recreation. I've written a grievance and hope some of the others will write one too. Would explain but it is one of those inexplicable issues that the public at large would never grasp. Some things are impossible to explain to a person who has never been here. I figure if I can't think of a way to explain this it can't be explained. Take my word on this one that the staff are violating more rules than the prisoners.

11 May 2005 1:48 p.m.

Still having productive days. Got 16 pages today and wrote a very nice passage of eroticism. Usually I avoid writing sex. It's so hard to do right without being pornographic. This felt good though. The character was leading me. I'm tired today though. I got up early and wrote a letter before starting my writing work. My hand is aching. I really miss my typewriter, but this rewrite had to be done by hand anyway. No way I could afford to type anything this rough. Ribbons are too expensive for that. Typing is only for final drafts, at least only for things I think are. They often have to be typed over once my best friend has used her editorial scalpel to lance my ego. She's rough on me, but my writing is improved by it. I see how far I've come when I'm rewriting old works like this one.

12 May 2005 5:05 p.m.

Seven productive days in a row. 13 pages done and finally gave voice to my prologue. That took a dozen tries to get right. With 94 pages done in 7 days things are moving along spiffily. All seems good here. I got some recreation toady and talked to a young prisoner I know and like. He's one with a lot of potential if he'll make use of it. Tomorrow I'll be staying in my cell and avoiding all unnecessary contact. It'll be Friday the 13th! Oh No! I'll just stay in and write.

13 May 2005 6:57 p.m.

It was a normal Friday 13th. Against my better judgment I decided to go out to recreation. Sgt. Grooms stopped running it after he did one row. I'm on two row. They don't get off until 6:00 p.m. and there was plenty of time after they brought in one row to let us go out. instead he decided to stop at 4:30 p.m. This is the same lazy sergeant that screwed us over on 05/10/05. It's normal conduct for him. I'll be filing another grievance on him. They work four days on and four off and he made me write him up on two of four days. They don't do much good but it makes me feel better to write them up and is a good outlet for the hostility that builds.

15 May 2005 3:46 p.m.

Not getting to recreate frustrated me so bad I didn't want to talk about it so I skipped the journal entry yesterday. Today I got out and recreated a little. An hour of fresh air and face to face conversation does me a world of good. It adjusts my attitude as long as I don't get screwed over. These cells have a tendency to shrink if you go too long without getting out to recreation. Supper was cold so I put it in a plastic bag and dropped it in my hot pot to warm up. Taste better hot. Not good, better. (:

16 May 2005 3:44 p.m.

It has been a nicely productive day of writing. I did 16 pages and will be beginning a brand new chapter tomorrow. It's my 12th. My problem was trying to bend my characters to my will. They have proven a stubborn bunch. When I let them rum amok things go a lot better. The chapter I did today was a rewrite of an old one and I was changing it from 1st person narrative to 3rd person narrative. I have a couple I will have to go back and change. The 1st person stuff just wasn't working. It makes me crazy and cutting out lame sections. Got some recreation and now I'm writing and awaiting supper so I can go to bed. It may seem early for bed but I've been up since 2:00 a.m. I like that schedule for writing. It's more productive.

17 May 2005 5:36 p.m.

Another hard day. I didn't think I'd ever finish my goal of ten pages, minimum, per day. I finally took a nap at noon and woke knowing where the story was going. It was a new chapter. Today a guard came back to pick up our trays just minutes after giving them to us. My neighbor is a slow eater due to having broken teeth and wasn't finished. The guard refused to come back and get the dirty tray out of his cell. It devolved into a cussing match. I did my best to diffuse it because my neighbor has a parole date, Jan. 2006, and the officer was known to be an asshole that writes disciplinaries. Any trouble would cost my neighbor his chance to go home and I couldn't see why he would chance such consequences for pride. I'm trying to help this on ego home and he doesn't seem to want to go. Short timers are strange to us long timers.

18 May 2005 3:49 p.m.

No typewriter! They were out of stock and my purchase not approved yet either. Another two weeks. I'lll have the screaming meamies by then and I'm sure that is spelled wrong but how do you spell a word not in the damn dictionary? Plenty of time to finish this rough draft fantasy novel. It'll be ready to start typing and I'll need to type these journal pages too. That'll have me about 300 pages behind and falling farther daily while I try to catch up.

20 May 2005 7:03 p.m.

My neighbor has only been in ad-seg a few months. Speedy is one of those prisoners who has been coming to prison all his life. Now he is confirmed as a gang member and ad-seg is a permanent condition of his life until he gets out and on his return if he returns. He's surely been in single cell conditions for short term stays, we all have, but long term it's having a detrimental effect. I can see the cell gnawing at him and keep trying to make him see it. Finally got through to him, somewhat, last night. This cell can destroy you if you are not aware of what is happening. Those who most deny the possibility of single cell doing them harm are the ones most likely to snap from sheer frustration of life in seclusion It's subtle, but the effect can be cumulative if you don't learn to shake it off. You can't shake off what you don't admit is there. You can get trapped in a negative feedback cycle where you are angry and taking it out on all around you while refusing to admit you have a problem. You're in a tiny box with no control of anything. Dependent on guards for everything. Speedy admitted the cell was getting to him last night and now I think there is hope of saving him from getting so frustrated he gets a disciplinary and loses his parole date, Jan. 2006. If he can just hold on. I'll be doing my best to help him hold on.

21 May 2005 8:37 p.m.

Having a case of the blues. Can't write. Can't read. Can't sleep. Totally miserable. I'm pretty sure this is from lack of a typewriter. Guess my addictive nature has given me a new dependency. I hate these depressions. The world becomes colorless and I lose all hope until the blue funk passes. I'll just drink coffee and stay up all night. My schedule is screwed. If anyone ever reads all these journal entries they'll think I'm psychotic. Could be. I'm on my fifth year in ad-seg and that is enough to warp any psyche and mine bent a bit before I started. I'll just la here in the dark and let some old rock and roll soothe me as it melts my brain.

23 May 2005 2:36 p.m.

Forced my way into rest from writing yesterday. It wasn't easy because writing has become a habit and is so much a part of my life. It's what I do. I've done 4 pages already and only just got started. A 15 page. day would put me close to finished. How close? I have no idea because I'm entering unknown areas, never before explored, and have lots of loose threads to warp back into the creative loom that all is understood in the end. I doubt I have a hundred pages to go. More likely only fifty. I'll just have to figure it out as I go. It may run a bit longer than I first thought. If nothing else ever comes out of this it has sure been a learning experience. I've expanded my ability and that is worth doing. In my book anything that improves my writing is useful and even if this book is never more than something I share with selected friends it did that.

25 May 2005 8:56 p.m.

The book is back on track. Two nicely productive days and all the threads are coming back into the weave. No mail since Thursday except for magazines. Junk mail too. Even here that is persistent. Not much happening here. I did get out for an hour of outside air and face to face conversation. The hardest part of prison for me is there are few capable of intelligent conversation on subjects other than dope, crime, drinking and sex. All so very negative it can be depressing. On the other hand, being human, I need the social intercourse of conversation and most here won't talk to me unless I'm willing to talk on the subjects they prefer. No wonder I sit in my cell so much.

26 May 2005 3:21 p.m.

Went to recreation and was thrilled to get to talk to my very favorite person, Big Happy. The rarest of bird. He is an articulate intellectual. I could talk to him for hours and our short hour of rec. is just not enough when he lands in a cage close enough we can talk. he is one of the few who tries to think positively and is tolerant of views he disagrees with. It's strange how different our backgrounds are and yet we re friends and get joy from each other's company, more so than from the people we'd be expected to like. He is from South America and part of violent gang hierarchy. I am a south Alabama hillbilly and never met a Spanish speaking person until I was 30 years old. I knew nothing of gangs until I came to Texas prison and it became necessary to learn for self-preservation. I've never had much trouble with gangs because I'm inherently respectful in all my dealings. Yet I am anti-gang because gangs are the reason Texas prisoners have so little unity. Big Happy and I meet on a higher plane of intellectual existence as intelligent humans. It makes you wonder where all the senseless hatred in prison comes from. Ignorance is my favorite suspect.

27 May 2005 4:09 p.m.

I've reached the last chapter of the original 8 from when I started this book nearly ten years ago. I found I didn't have the skills or vocabulary and was thus rendered incapable of the craft. Today it is chapter 18 and page 235 of a nearly complete rough draft. To complete this book will be a milestone on my journey from illiterate hillbilly to writer. The hillbilly will always show through. Even once it's all on paper I'll have a lot of work to do, but it'll all be there to work with. Maybe only one chapter to write after t his one is complete and it will need a short epilogue. Already ideas for the next book in this series are swirling in my head. My one rule is that each book must have satisfying conclusions.

28 May 2005 3:24 p.m.

It's been a day when I couldn't find the energy to wake up. I tried with caffeine to stimulate myself into waking t no avail. Our trays are brought in heated carts and then officers load them in hand carriers that hold seven trays to bring them to us. their attention spans are so short that they will be spinning and slinging food all over the trays and off on the floor. I've even seen them standing behind the tray carrier and tilt it back so they can see in without bending over and never think about the food dumping off the trays. No wonder half the food ends up on the floor. The other half ends up in a mixture slopped all over the tray. At lunch and supper today it was worse than usual. I wasn't nearly as offended by supper because the lady officer simply apologized. She knew it wasn't right to slop us like pigs. Her, "I'm sorry" washed all the pain away. Then it was just an accident. Why can't such compassion be the rule?

30 May 2005 10:58 a.m.

Finished my first novel. It once was called the "Scarlet Mage" and now I'm tempted to change the name. It doesn't seem right. "Gods' Children" might work. It still has warts but by the time I get my typewriter and catch up on all my other stuff I'll be ready to face the hard work of the writing process. Writing, the creation part, is more fun than sex. The typing and dewartification of the resulting mess is hard work. I will do it though. If my book lives to be published I become immortal. That quite a reward in itself. I need an assistant. Volunteers?

31 May 2005 2:41 a.m.

Even without a typewriter, probably due to not having one, I finished my book. If only I can get a grip on book two. It's roiling in my mind like mud in flood waters. If it doesn't taper off I'll be pulling out a composition notebook and writing. I already know the first string I intend to weave on the loom of my vivid imagination. It's an addiction and has an irresistible pull on the level of sex and food. It's a hungering beast and must be fed. It demands feeding and I find I love it too much.

2 June 2005 8:00 am

What a way to start a new month of journal entries. I missed yesterday. Late start is better than no start at all. Today is a store day and I'm in hope of getting a typewriter today. A bag of chips too. I have lots of typing to do so lets hope.

3 June 2005 7:00 am

Whoopy! Got my new typewriter and it works so much better than my last one ever did that I think the last one had been screwed up before I got it. Been typing journal entries and going over my rough draft to touch it up. God at the warts of this thing.

5 June 2005 1:29 pm

Started typing this book. A long hard job, but I'll just plug along. Did six pages today and it'll be nearly 300 pages long. At this rate it will take two months to type. One of my neighbors got sent to level-3, the punishment wing, for threatening an officer. I expect Speedy will be joining him soon if he doesn't get a grip on his hostility. He's one of the most negative people I've ever met and I'm pulling back from dealing with him. Negative attitudes are contagious and I refuse to be infected. It took me years to get rid of my last infection and that is not for me. I'd rather smile and treat people polite, even if they are undeserving.

6 June 2005 3:06 pm

It was a strange day today. While most of this wing went to recreation, they didn't have enough recreation yards for everybody, they came and took all the property out of 7 or 8 cells. It took them 3 hours to tear those cells apart and move the property. The word on the grapevine is it was a drug bust. It may have been but the rest of us are all wondering who told. Now we know there is a snitch on the wing fingers are pointing. I refuse to point and no one will point at me, I'm too well known. This causes a LOT OF negativity and I wouldn't be surprised if it led to some violence before it's all over.

7 June 2005 1:23 pm

Got a great night's sleep last night. In prison light is constant. We have night lights so bright you can read by them that never go off. Thanks to an electrical problem they are no longer operating and I'm thrilled to be relieved of light. Hope they never work again. Have typed 25 pages on my manuscript and finished chapter one moment ago. Haven't proof read it for the glaring typos I'm sure are there. Don't you know how those things get in my perfect writing? I know I hit the right keys so it must be a malfunction in the typewriter. Haven't come up with an excuse for the ones that have to do with verb tenses. What I've looked at has been repairable. May let my neighbor read this and see his reaction. He reads fantasy so could give me an opinion of the story. His English sentence construction is bad so he won't know a difference.

8 June 2005 9:44 am

Night lights remain off and I'm happy with that. Wish they'd never come back on. I've typed six pages this morning. It seems to be coming along well, but I haven't done the typo search. We still have three open cells and you'd think they'd have some level ones waiting for a cell on a level one wing. They leave them on the level two wing until they have a cell open. It's unusual to have cells open this long.

9 June 2005 10:21 am

Recently I was talking with a female guard, a nice lady. She was telling me how she disliked being assigned to work a wing all day because the feeding o two meals was more than she could take. It's ht carrying of the tray carriers that hold 7 trays that is her problem. She went on to complain that male guards shouldn't use the SSIs, trustee prisoners, because there aren't enough to go around and she felt women should have first call on them. What happened to equality? Do we still remember equal pay for equal work? I hate to say this, I really like this lady, but if she can't do her job she shouldn't be whining for help due to her sex. Male guards have as much right to assistance as females. They did take the job and I'm sure never mentioned they couldn't do it without extra help. Her's is not the attitude of all, but most women would agree.

10 June 2005 6:41 pm

I'm burning up lots of typewriter ribbons. Shit! It takes a lot of these ribbons to type a 300 page manuscript. Proof read the first 50 pages and typed another 11 pages after I made necessary repairs. Want to finish the first 5 or 6 chapters and send them Ramsay Monday. What a big job this is. Reading this as I searched for warts I had to pat myself on the back. It is goof and gets done as I go. I'm proud of my first novel.

11 June 2005 6:10 pm

A hard day's work done. Typed 15 pages. At this rate I'll send out the first 7 chapters Monday. By the time I get this done I'll be damn tired of it. Sure do hope I can get it published. That'll make the work all worthwhile. It's all I have to talk about because it's all I do. My radio is still wonderful. Never thought I'd return to rock and roll, but I did not expect rock and roll to return to the bluesy style I like. If there is a writer in need of advice on hoe to free up their creative juices I recommend rock music. Works for me, or I think it does. My editing friend may tell me otherwise. You can be sure I'll be anxiously awaiting that opinion. I may scream if it isn't a good review. At least I'm hoping to not have as many technical mistakes and typos. It's a goal.

13 June 2005

I'm proud to report that I completed my 7th chapter today and have the first 100 pages ready to go out for opinion. That's scary! Another proud report was heard on my radio this morning. A girl called into my morning radio talk show to report that she was on I-10 Porky Pigging in her car. I didn't know what she was talking about. I learned as I listened that she was butt naked from waist down. Can't believe this has gotten so popular it got its own name. Wild world.

14 June 2005 10:21 am

Prison, just being prison, sucks. My gripe today is about prisoners that take their legitimate electronics (radio and FM signal booster) and then redesign them in illegitimate ways that interfere with regular reception. This is so they can pick up TV channels on a FM receiver and pick up weak stations. They never consider that their actions are keeping others from listening to the radio unless they are willing to break the rules and take a chance on getting a disciplinary case or chance getting their electronics confiscated. I refuse to keep a bunch of contraband wire to listen to the radio. The good news is that my new station pushes a lot of power and is using high definition technology. I can fight them off by just staying tuned to my station until they go away because of power. Is it petty? Probably, but I refuse to give in and the next thing will be blowing out the electricity. If I was sure they were on my circuit I would.

15 June 2005 unknown time

Today I got moved to a new wing for no reason I'm aware of. A matter of TDCJ policy to do a shuffle whenever anything happens. I hate moving but I'm glad to be here. I was tired of my old wing after being there 2 years. Now I get to meet new people and hope to find an intelligent prisoner to converse with. The reason the time is unknown is the electricity is out. That sucks. No typewriter, radio or hot pot. Thankfully I have a pot of tea made for tomorrow morning in case it isn't on by then. The worst part is this cell being a mirror image of the one I've been in so long. The desk is to the left instead of the right now and that is hard to get used to. I sleep with my head by the desk so now I'm sleeping backwards. Being moved in ad-seg is easier than in population. If I was in population I'd have to worry about getting along with. The worst that can happen is bad neighbors and if they're not in the cell I can ignore them.

16 June 2005

Sleeping back-ass-wards has me trying to get up on the wrong side of the bunk. You can't do that in prison due to a wall being there. When I wake up and try to roll out half asleep it's a very weird experience to find a wall where I expect air. Not doing much of anything. Just trying to adjust to my new surroundings. Not easy as you'd think.

18 June 2005 9:25 am

Have not slept well since my cell moved. I'm prone to insomnia, luckily a time and waking up unable to go back to sleep I finally slept last night and didn't get up until 9:00 am. Long sleep with only minimal expected interruptions you have in prison. Mail, supplies and sheet exchange all happened 7:30 and 8:30 last night and then we had breakfast between 2:30 and 3:30 am. Other than that I slept straight through from 5:30 pm until this morning. Now I'm rested and trying to shake off the slept too long lethargy. Tea time!

19 June 2005 3:29 pm

Waiting for supper to come so I can go to bed. After staying up all night I went to bed after breakfast and got up at 9:30 am. Have not done much on my book typing today, but I did extra last night and will do plenty when I get up in the morning. Meals come at different times on this wing and I'm trying to adjust my schedule to that. More or less, all is as well as could be expected for a person in prison. You can't set your sights too high when you've fallen do low. Writing is my salvation. If not for that I'd still be crazy. If nothing else comes of it I'll still always write for sanity and be glad of the therapy.

21 June 2005 5:26 am

You'd be surprised at how habituated prisoners become. I'm here and I forget it at times. This move after two years in the same cell is really hard for me. It's as if my world has been turned upside down. I'm having trouble adjusting. You'd think it would be easy. It's all the same and you're still in prison. I don't think I've ever lived in a more hostile environment. There is no one to pass an idle moment talking to and certainly no one to talk to on a higher plane. I'll survive. I always do. My hermit gene makes anything in ad-seg fairly easy for me, but I could get used to being so introverted and not be able to return to normal. The good part is I don't have anybody to disturb me. Ad-seg is a privilege. If you think about the possible people you could be locked in this tiny box with you see the silver lining in living in a single cell conditions.

22 June 2005 3:00 pm

Just polished my stainless steel wall, toilet and sink. I'm going to try to not let myself get so apathetic about cleaning. I had let the old one get grungy. Easy to do in ad-seg conditions. No one sees it but you and the guards. Impressing guards is not my goal in life. Got a few pages typed and have a few more to go before I'll be satisfied my day's work is done. I do better on the weekend when radio talk show isn't on. I don't type well to talk. I type the rock and roll!

24 June 2005 6:48 pm

Been typing and think I'm going to have to redo the last page. Not all happy with the ending of this chapter. It needs to have some stuff pruned out. It's time for me to go to bed. I want to stay up and work after breakfast and that come early here.

27 June 2005 4:56 am

Didn't realize I missed two days. It's my addictive nature. Writing is my new addiction and I get caught up in it. The Scarlet Mage is nearly typed. Intend to write book two before I look at this again. To tell the truth I'm sick of it. Every word has been read numerous times. On the other hand, I'm really anxious to start the writing of book two. It has been rolling in my head for weeks. I've even written the first chapter. Wish I had an agent to pitch my work but I doubt a legitimate agent would want a prisoner. Guess I'm on my own with only a little help from all my friends. But, I really have good friends. In friendship I am really very wealthy and I hope to make a success of this writing so I can repay them for all the years of support. You have to love people to see the worth in you when you feel worthless.

29 June 2005 9:13 am

It has been a low entry month. Guess my journal entry peak has been reached and passed. It could be just a nothing happening month. How many times can I write about my writing and typing? Daily even like sitting on the toilet. Got back the first 100 pages from editing and it came out better than I expected. At this very instant some A-hole is trying to use FM signal booster to pick up a radio station and all he's accomplished is to screw up my reception and aggravate me to no end.

30 June 2005 11:36 pm

Up and getting started. My schedule is not normal. Never has been, but it's worse in ad-seg. Earlier today an officer told me to shave. I shave daily and wasn't far past 24 hours since my last shave. My beard is dark and stands out so I get hassled. It's a regular thing to see minorities sporting goatees and mustaches without being bothered. I, of course, went and shaved. I don't take chances on dumb cases. The before mentioned minorities just do as they please and claim to have a pass from medical to not have to shave with a razor. It's called a clipper shave pass. They never check on them. Shaving daily is hard on my skin too, but I do it. It would be nice if the rules were enforced in an equally consistent manner. They never have been in prison so I'm not holding my breath.

1 July 2005 4:46 pm

Today begins a new month. It's also the month my State Classification Committee, SCC, to hold my 180 day hearing and decide if it's time to let me out of ad-seg. It may seem crazy but I'm hoping they'll just leave me in ad-seg. Here I've reached a balance that allows me to live and do no harm. I don't think I can handle the stress of constant close contact with guards and other prisoners. I never wanted all the trouble I¿ve been in here. It got started from defending myself and led to my losing my humanity to the point I was initiating violence. It was my version of the Bush preemptive war tactic only on a smaller scale. That I don't want to return to and I know I'm capable.

2 July 2005 3:38 am

My asshole neighbor was playing with his contraband radio reception booster device this morning. I¿m on the verge of knocking out the electricity. If I don't find a way to get some understanding with this nit case I'll finish my major typing and keep the circuit breaker tripped for a few days. That should cause the other six people beside he and I on this breaker to use peer pressure to stop his bullshit. Have 18 pages left to type and correct the resulting errors in to be finished with this book. Then I'll be doing book two. After that it's back to my memoir. I've decided to write it as fiction, mainly the prison years since 2000, with flashbacks to events in my past that affected my present most.

3 July 2005 9:07 am

Finished up my book and the last of it is ready to go out Tuesday morning. Now I want to get all my June journals typed. Did two pages of single spaced and will try to do the rest later today. Having trouble with radio reception again this morning. You can tell it's someone with a booster trying to pick a weak station. They tune it in and it spreads as they back feed the signal into the cable to knock out your reception with their station. Then they go away for a while only to return and tune over you again. At times it's a Hispanic station and others it's a soft rock station. I could listen to the soft rock if it weren¿t for the idiot DJs that giggle at the weather report. My real rock station is strong and as long as I'm listening they can mess up my reception but not listen to the weak stations. Lynard Skynard is playing Tuesday's gone. Beautiful! I get lots of Stevie Ray Vaughn too. They even play contemporary rock and roll I like; Archangels. Silver Tides and Three Doors Down are all great. ZZ Top is a regular. Yes, it's all on the same station. Bad Company and the Who along side Nickleback and the Foo Fighters. Awesome!

4 July 2005 11:59 pm

Have slept since 11:30 am. Good rest is hard to come by in prison. Sent out chapter two of my book with Dialogue With A Convict to Pen Writing Awards for Prisoners 2005 contest as my fiction and nonfiction entries. I¿ll find out next year if I win. Should hear from The sun soon about my submission of "Daddy's Stand." Sure wish they'd buy that short piece. I could use the $300 to stock up on ribbons and stamps for typing these damn books. Might even buy a FM Signal Booster from store, Boy, they'd all be crying if I used a booster on my strong channel. Teach 'em manners.

5 July 2005 11:02 am

Just had lunch. I'm reading "Julian" by Gore Vidal. Excellent! I'm in my recharge my battery mode. I just read and let the ideas roll and ferment in my warped mind, it's weird. It has to work itself out in my head before I'm ready to put it on paper. This second book is proving to be harder to get going than the first. I'm considering writing the prequel and make it book-1 and have three books to send to a publisher.

7 July 2005 2:34 am

Yesterday we had an incompetent black female substituting as our med-tech. These deliver medication and I'm prescribed a number of important antiretroviral medications that are a matter of life and death for me to take properly. Never saw her in the morning so got no medication in the am. That afternoon, at what should have been her second delivery of medication for the day but was her first and only, she was missing one of the three medications I take in the pm. She refused to get it for me out of unit stock. Once before this woman worked over here and did the same thing. She's not new, she has been transferred through many Texas prisons due to incompetence. Because she's a minority they won't fire her. If, because she won't give me my medication properly, my virus mutates and becomes resistant to these medications there is no guarantee that anything else will work. A new set of side effects would suck, too.

9 July 2005 2:31 pm

Have felt crappy all day. Wanted to start writing book two and I couldn't get motivated. Maybe tomorrow. Been sleeping all day and I'm still not feeling rested. I hate that. My sleep cycle gets in a short mode of two hours sleep and three up that never lets me get rested fully. Part of my problem is Worrying about my upcoming SCC being due. It's stressful not knowing what to expect and knowing I have no control over the outcome. As bad as ad-seg can be it is the least stressful alternative. In General population it¿s a constant battle to protect your property and your life. If you're white in a southern prison, especially Texas, you become prey for the gangs unless you prove too dangerous to be bothered. I'm too dangerous, but I don't want to have to prove it and I'd have no choice.

11 July 2005 5:08 am

Thought I should write a few words so I don't miss another day. I've had a very rough weekend. Nothing to point at as the cause, just not is a very good frame of mind. No motivation. I've always had days like this, even free. When I wasn't in prison I'd go drink until I stopped feeling and my troubles went away. Often I drank my way into real trouble to replace the illusion of gloom. At least then I knew what the problem was. My morning radio show will b on in a few minutes and I can find out what hurricane Dennis did to the Gulf Coast. I heard it hit Alabama yesterday and I'm from Mobile. It makes me have to wonder about the fates of friends and family members. Been out of touch so long there's no way of knowing who's left. It's depressing to think about how long it has been since I last heard of them.

11 July 2005 12:28 pm

Whoopy! Got an acceptance letter from the Sun and I am truly one of the rare published writers. Never thought it fair to count my being published without being paid something. I'm in heaven and intend to redouble my efforts at being published. I like this feeling. Accepted beats the shit out of rejected any day.

12 July 2005 6:09 pm

Still feel like I won the lottery. Got all my bragging mail out. My life is so good I keep expecting something to go wrong. I was even lucky enough to get mail from 3 of my closest friends so had a good excuse to write and tell them my good news while answering their letters. Setting my mind to retype my book. I knew Ramsay was going to make me do it again and won't be able to write much on the next one until this one is done. Any major change I make has to carry through to the next book and I may have to make a few to satisfy the Yankee logic of my best friend and editor. Need to write an article about writing for Prisoner Express. It was a PE theme, Taking a Stand, that incited me to write "Daddy's Stand" in the first place. You can never know where the catalyst for a story will come from.

13 July 2005 2:22 pm

Wrote a piece of satiric humor and am in hopes of "funny Times" being do kind as to publish it. It's ready to go out tomorrow morning, but I need to make a copy for Ramsay's Danny file. "Religious Tunnel Vision" is the title to look at the humor that is the religious and I think it's good for a tiny chuckle at the least.

14 July 2005 4:28 pm

Went to recreation and you could feel the weight of thunder hanging in the air. It was cool and the humidity still made you sweat. Wrote a few pages of chapter 2 in book 2 and then had a nap. Now I'm up, intending to drink a pot of tea, my second for the day, and write all night while the rocking radio is playing. It's time to get this new book finished so I can return to polishing book 1 and get them both submitted. I'm feeling the excitement of high expectations. It would be a just revenge to succeed as a writer and get stinking rich. Bet I'd hear from all my family then, once they saw my name and bio on a published book. I'm pretty sure I'd ignore them the same way they have ignored my existence the last few years. I'd bet on hearing from lots of people of my past, some might even be worthy of a response. Wonder how many of my ex-wives and ex-lovers would suddenly be interested in me again? Gone to work in my vengeance through success ploy. It'll make the effort less like hard work.

15 July 2005 4:06 pm

Got the second part of my manuscript back and it will require another round of polishing before it's ready to go. Too many errors to try to correct it. Shit! I'll do it. My mind is set to make this a near perfect as is possible with my abilities. Book 2 is being written very slowly. I've a quirk, one of many, that make it hard for me to move on to something else with unfinished business hanging over my head. I actually dread the typing of this 280 pages, but I will do it. As much as I love writing, I hate it too. I'd love it better with a word processor and a very good secretary to help. My editor is a non-fan of fantasy. It'll be a lot better book with her input, but it's frustrating when she hasn't got the understanding of certain word usages required to depict what there exist no word to describe. Makes me crazy.

16 July 2005 6:49 am

Last night was strange. The officer working my wing was pouring sweat, it wasn't even hot, and speed walking with steps like he had no idea how fast he was moving; he couldn¿t move fast enough. Anyone who has done drugs can recognize the signs and symptoms. As he tried to do everything at once and repeatedly gave mail to the wrong person I knew that this guy was flying on something. He's not a bad person or a bad guard. Normally he is really good at handling things like mail. It does make me wonder what supervisors are doing when they ignore such obvious signs of drug abuse. In my days as a good prisoner I worked daily as a hall porter and kept the halls clean. We had a really nice officer who was also a major alcoholic. They'd assign him, drunk and reeking of alcohol, to work the security gates. He'd open the gates and go to sleep in a chair while I watched out for rank and let him sleep it off.

16 July 2005 8:04 pm

My sleep cycle has shifted again. I never went back to sleep after I ate breakfast at 3 am until 4 pm and slept a few hours then woke up. Once I realized that sleep was beyond me I got up to drink some tea and get moving around. Lost my temper this morning. Our electricity was out for hours and no one was raising proper hell about it to get it turned on. In my view, as a convict, if you knock it out you take responsibility and admit your mistakes. I got aggravated and made a statement out my door to the world at large by yelling, "Whoever knocked out the power needs to raise hell and get it back on." Somebody yelled and told me to, "Suck my dick bitch ass white boy!" I was rightly offended by his words and accent I was sure he was black. My redneck genes kicked in and I called him a nigger. I was surely wrong fro using the N-word, but he was wrong too. Suddenly he felt he was the injured party and felt not responsibility for starting the use of derogatory language. It turned out this was the guy who had knocked out the power. He refuses to buy a hot pot from the store and uses what we call a "hotshot" that short-circuits electricity through the water in your cup to make it boil. The electrical breakers are too weak on high security to use one and not blow out the power. My next book us coming along. Three chapters are roughed in and number four is in my warped mind floating about. A actually have a good idea of what five and six will be doing and the ending, when it comes time is ready too. Much is happening in the world of Banglow and it shall be forever changed. It is time we see how they fair without magic.

19 July 2005 11:32 am

Today is one of those days when I'm being driven to develop a writing idea. I've typed my newest three times and I'm considering doing it again. It's called "Christmas Sacrifice" and I'm in hopes it'll be accepted for this Christmas. That would be a very nice Christmas gift for me. I think it's perfect for the Christian Science Monitor.

20 July 2005 12:20 pm

The valleys and peaks of writing are a wild ride. Found out last night at mail call that my story "Daddy's Stand" had been accepted as less than a fully paid piece of work. I'm to be in the "Reader's Write" section that is little more than a letters to the editors section. It still earns me my first pay as a writer, a six month subscription to The Sun. It's a start. I read an interview in a copy of The Sun a friend sent me. It was with Patty Smith. Excellently written! It's hard to believe I compete in a where there are such writers. It's like an amateur boxer in a ring with Ali in his prime. You'd have to respect him for trying, you wouldn't bet on him. I got some very cool books in the mail last night. "God's in Alabama" by Joshilyn Jackson was so good I read it in a gulp. Couldn't put it down and loved every minute of it. This is one book I'd recommend anyone to read. It fits no genre and I like that.

21 July 2005 5:21 pm

It's steaming in my cell. This water chilled air can't handle the Texas heat on hot days. My current plan is to scrub my toilet and have a cold birdbath. Yes, in the toilet. Sink pressure is nonexistent and it is impossible to rig so it stays on. You have to hold a button down to get water at the sink. It's too hot to be taking hot showers so I'll skip that tonight. It would add heat and humidity to my cell and I don't need that. Cold toilet water is much better and always available. :)

22 July 2005 2:52 am

Just ate breakfast: burnt scrambled eggs with pineapple and juice slung in from the whirlwind way the guards carry tray carriers. You'd think they were carrying a bag of rocks for all the care they show. It's still better than pancakes. Have not been able to get my next book moving in the right direction. It's 20% finished and I've lost the path. All I can do is read while I contemplate on how to continue. I know where I want to go, but I'm nopt sure about how I want to get there. Got my notice of my Sate classification Committee hearing being on 7/27/05 last night. I read over my written statement and it's perfect. Am caught up on all my journal entry typing until I fill more pages with entries. Have a very big and interesting book I'm reading. "Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell" is by Susanna Clark and a fantasy based in English history. (7/30/05, I am forced to change this portion drastically. The above seemed a fine book but proved unreadable. That is rare for me. It should have never been published and only the writer's connections got it published. Junk!)

23 July 2005 2:48 pm

Seem to have written my way past the sticky part in this next book. I'm sure others will occur. When too many characters gather in one place I have trouble giving them all a voice. Next week will be interesting. I have my SCC and store, plus I'm expecting a visit to the doctor. It'll be nice to get SCC behind me and make store. Hope they don¿t balk at my order for 6 typewriter ribbons. Those I need. The doctor is always aggravating. He'll fuss about my weight and want to put me on a diet. I'll raise hell and refuse since he shouldn't have taken me off the medication. I'll probably refuse that too since I never take it anyway. Makes me too sleepy. Wish they'd just give me the necessary meds and leave me alone.

24 July 2005 9:45 am

July in Texas and by some strange mischance the heat has been turned on. No wonder I've been sweating. It was probably done on purpose. If you think that's farfetched you should know we used to have a female sergeant, Sgt. Nixon, that worked here that was so offended by our having water chilled air that she'd turn the thermostat up to assure we stayed sweating. When she wasn't working it'd be cool. Officers on the wing sweat too is it's too hot and that forces them to get the problem seen to. Maybe they will feel guilty and make it real cold. I like cold.

25 July 2005 9:13 am

They got the water chiller for the air working and I slept so good after days of sweating. I should explain why we get our air chilled in ad-seg. We don't have windows here and where ad-seg has windows they don¿t open. In punitive levels of ad-seg you are not allowed electronics so have no fan either. Temperatures can reach temperatures above 100 degrees in our cells. That's real temperatures, the humidity makes it worse. Prisoners would die in the heat if not for the air chillers. Hope to get word on the 3rd section of my book. I'd hate for that to get lost. Since I already have to do the whole thing over it would add work to have to redo that section before I could start the new draft. You worry about mail as a prisoner. It's not paranoia. Our mail is much more likely to be lost or destroyed. We can't get delivery confirmation. You just mail and pray to the Gods.

26 July 2005 2:30 pm

Tomorrow is the day and I'll find out if I¿m to remain in stress free and safe living conditions here in ad-seg or must return to population and deal with idiots. I hate that. In the end population would only mean I had to come back to ad-seg and go through restrictive punitive levels.

28 July 2005 10:49 pm

Yesterday was hard on me. I really hate feeling so helpless to control my life. I got what I wanted and am free to remain in ad-seg. That's good. Got back my "Christian Sacrifice" piece from my friend and typed fresh copies that incorporate her suggestions for improving the piece. Intend to submit it to Christian Science Monitor and National Enquirer. Those will go out tomorrow. The last section of my book is lost. I think it's a conspiracy between the mailroom and the postal service to make me crazy. Asked the mailroom supervisor for a tracer form and she hasn't brought one.

This nut case guard was passing out our weekly rolls of toilet paper and exchanging sheets. He forgot to give me a roll and then after I reminded him and got my roll he saw a piece of roll in my cell and had to accuse me of lying about his not giving it to me. Extra toilet paper is not a thing worth lying for. I try so hard not to lie and hate being called a liar. It didn't help that he was one of those white guards that wouldn't have said a word if I had a dozen rolls if I had been brown or black.

30 July 2005 8:57 pm

Been a no energy day. All I could do was lay in bed and catnap. I did go out to recreation this morning and had a good time talking to Mario. Found out that he is in the same gang as a good friend of mine. Makes me really glad I was able to help him out with magazines and books since I've been on this wing. His "homito" has done a lot to help me out and now it has all come full circle. I like that.

31 July 2005 8:57 pm

Finishing this months journal entries and getting it all ready to go out to Gary at Prisoner Express. Page 4 got messed up and it was my fault. I'd have to type two page s over to fix it and I refuse to do that. It'll have to do. Have submitted short works to lots of places this month and I'm in hopes of getting something out of it besides a rejection letter. Tonight I'll retype "Religious Tunnel Vision" once more and submit it the longest shot of all, Harper's Magazine. It's worth the gamble and I'd love to get an acceptance from such a prestigious publication.

1 August 2005 9:33 pm

The first day of a new month and I got a letter from PEN tonight. They have made the mistake of asking about my feelings for the PEN experience. I doubt they will like my response. Guess I shouldn't get my hopes up about winning anything this year. My reply was scathing and they won't like it. But, I haven't liked the unfulfilled promises. When you promise something to a prisoner it may well become a lifeline for him to cling to. That makes it important that a prisoner can depend on your doing as you have promised. A promise may be all he has to live for.

3 August 2005 1:54 am

Slept all night and now I'm up and feeling my energy level starting to rise. Tried to get up last night, but after I showered decided to go back to sleep. It's really time I get back to writing book two. I want these both ready to go to a publisher by early next year. It will be time for breakfast soon and I'm in hope of scrambled eggs and biscuits. Yesterday was S.O.S., that's meat gravy and I don't eat meat so I got unsweetened oatmeal with my biscuit. Prison oatmeal is awful!

4 August 2005 11:20 pm

Went out to recreation today, but have mostly slept it away. At supper last night the female guard dumped the iced tea out by accident and the whole wing was laughing about the spill. Seemed silly to laugh when it was us prisoners who would be doing without tea with supper and she wouldn't even have to clean up the mess. Not funny at all in my opinion.

6 August 2005 3:23 am

Think I have finally found a solution to my radio reception problem. Since it is mostly cause by backfeed interference due to prisoners cutting resistors out of their radios, and backfeed goes through the ground side of the coax cable, I split my coax and removed a few inches of ground wire. All I have now is the center copper hooking me into the antennae system. So far I've had no problem being knocked out by interference. Normally it's constant. Even it they tune past my channel it only knocks me out for a second or two at a time but we have guys that are constantly changing channels. Never satisfied with a station long. Single cell can be boring. I'm rather proud of my idea, but I hate having contraband (once I changed my coax from it's original form it became contraband) that can be taken away from me on the whim of a guard whose mate refused sexual favors or was caught with someone else giving them. I hate white noise.

7 August 2005 10:47

Radio is still doing fine and I¿ve started to type this book over again. Going slow because I want to be sure this is the last time. Went to recreation again today and one of my neighbors is really weird. I'm pretty sure he has brain damage. Sarcasm goes right pat him and his sense of humor is nonexistent. Strange, to say the least. He's hated me since I moved in this cell and for no reason I can think of. Crazy folk like this are another reason I'm glad to be in ad-seg. In population I'd most probably have to fight him. I hate fighting. All the liberals that are so proud that the mentally retarded killers can't get the death penalty any more (I agree they shouldn't) should think about what that means for the rest of us who have to live with them. In general population you might get a violent killer with mental problems for a roommate. Just for me take a minute and think about these and being locked into a 9'x7' cell with one. They don't treat mental illness unless you tell them you want help. Real crazies don't think they need help.

9 August 2005 6:24 am

Forgot to start my book with the prologue. I was concentrating on remembering to make chapter two into chapter one and left out the prologue. Now I'm rewriting the prologue to make it more interesting and informative. Looks like another slow writing month. Not much is happening and when prison is boring there's not much to write about. I have a new young man I'm trying to assist. He gets out in four months and I'm trying to get his mind in the right place. He needs a GED and to get him ready to take the test when he gets out. Good kid. Lots of potential. Too many of those are ending up in prison.

10 August 2005 9:14 am

I'm awaiting store to be delivered. I sure hope they have typewriter ribbons. I ordered four. If not I'll be totally pissed. Got mail last night and it had a report on my first chapter and the guy didn't like it much. The book I'm reading, "Bandits and Bibles," is the one I got from PEN. It's a very interesting read for a prison writer and I'm sure anyone that enjoyed prison writing would enjoy it too. Had planed to go out to recreation, but now it's 9:30 am and I'm ready for lunch and my ribbons to get here. If no ribbons come I'll be depressed. They won't let us order them from outside vendors. To me, that means they shouldn't run out.

11 August 2005

Got three ribbons yesterday and have enough money for another one next time. I've been typing and got a bit done since yesterday. Coffee stimulates the brain better than tea. Of course, on coffee I don't sleep very well. That might be why I get more done. If you can't sleep, and you're locked in a box, you have to keep busy or go crazy. I gave my extra SAT study guide to a neighbor. George is 22-years-old been down 4 years and gets out in four months. He doesn't have a GED so I thought the SAT guide would get him ready to take the GED test when he gets out. He's really a good kid and just needs to change his way of thinking.

12 August 2005 6:11 pm

On Thursday, 8-04-05, I started a system of writing a letter on the inside of each envelope I mail my missives to the main person I write. This is to allow me to monitor which ones are getting lost and how often. Just realized that I've mailed two letters since then and forgot about my new system and I initiated it. Boy, my mind is shot to hell. I try to get organized in numerous ways and I always end up as disorganized as ever. It's scary to notice how short my attention span can be at times. Can't worry about it because it's who I am.

13 August 2005 4:26 pm

Did some typing, wrote two letters and went out to recreation. I even got lucky and had some sunshine on me. That's rare with those covered recreation yards. They left mine and my neighbors tray slots open and I passed him some books before recreation. Afterward they didn't close them so we talked sat and talked out the tray slots. My pedantic nature has been showing and I really think he is absorbing some stuff. George is interested in history and politics and in those areas I am well versed in. Now I'm trying to decide if I want to go back to bed and type later or stay up and do it now. Bed is on the verge of winning out. It has an edge in this argument.

14 August 2005 9:47 am

Productive day and I found I could save some of my manuscript without having to retype it. Mostly first four chapters will need work and then just retype of the odd page and retype page numbers. Of course, I'll have to retype the whole last 80 pages because those got lost. Lost hell! The mailroom threw them away. Heard an officer talking about a guy I know slightly on the wing and the guy was saying how he was going to get high on dope when he gets out and drink when he gets out in a few months. I figure he'll be back in 90 days with that attitude.

16 August 2005 4:19 pm

Missed a day. Normal. Everyone reading my journal should be sued to me missing days making entries by now. Just been trying to get this damn book ready to go and then I can get to work on book two. My experience with the process makes me wonder how any books ever get finished.

17 August 2005 Unknown pm

Electricity is knocked out and this youngster next door had to join in with the idiots and cuss the officer. I told him he shouldn't have and that it was wrong. Not her fault. After she fed supper she came to pick up trays and be damned if she didn't accuse, "Someone white" of having been the one cussing her. I'm the only white one that was without power and she was saying it was me. She's black. It really pissed me off and I lost my cool. Being accused made me cuss her out and I cussed out the youngster for starting the problem by cussing the officer while she is downstairs and not being man enough to tell her he did it when she is up here accusing someone else. To think I took up for her.

20 August 2005 2:34 pm

Been a hard couple of days. Once my temper gets the best of me I'm not rally sane for a day or two. Today got worse when n officer brought a maintenance prisoner through using compressed air to blow out shower drains. They were going in cells where the occupant was out at recreation and my cell connects to the one they did. It blew a splatter of sewer slime out of my shower drain that shot three feet in the air. It didn't matter to them and they felt no need to show ad-seg prisoners courtesy by warning them of the possibility so they could cover their drains. I really got mad about their attitudes that even after seeing what happened in my cell they refused to notify prisoners in connecting cells. It's people like this that make it best for me to stay in ad-seg. If I hadn't a door between us it would have been a violent confrontation.

22 August 2005 10:26 am

My schedule is gone wacky and I'm missing days making journal entries. It's the daily grind. I'm still working on retyping this book manuscript and hope it will all get where it's going this time. Mail going awry due to the malice or incompetence of mailroom staff is enough to make anyone become despondent. Mostly life stays the same imprison and that is an additional despondency issue. It's a wonder the suicide rate isn't higher here.

24 August 2005 1:59 pm

Just spent my last five dollars. Needed stamps so got six. We have cards for I.D that also accesses our trust accounts and we send a list to the store with our cards on our store day once every two weeks. If no one sends you money you can't go to the store. Bet no one outside prison would feel rich spending five bucks. I do. Got the rest in munchy foods and am grazing on sugars, fats and carbs. Good stuff! People in the free world spend five dollars on a cup of coffee. Guess the less you have, and I've spent years without nothing, the less it takes to satisfy you. If I ever get to the point that I don't appreciate what I have here and now I'll be ashamed of myself. Yes, I know people that go to the store at every opportunity and spend the maximum, $60, and complain it¿s not enough. Makes you wonder when all they have comes as gifts. Go figure.

25 August 2005 8:20 pm

My best friend still has the ability to surprise me. I had told her my dictionary was getting dog eared and asked for a new one. I was picky. I had an "Oxford American Dictionary," and wanted one just as good. Nothing less will do once you have an Oxford. All I expected was a paperback dictionary. She sent me a brand new "Concise Oxford English Dictionary," and it's in hardback. You know you have a really good dictionary when it has all the dirty slang words in it. I checked and this one does. :)

27 August 2005 8:20pm

Got the last draft of my book's first four chapters and be damned if my friend, as editor, didn't find a brand new complaint. Makes me want to pull my hair out by the roots. Ain't changing it. I told her this was the last draft and if she didn't like it change it herself. Had to write to Smithsonian. They printed a quote by a man that was comparing the Confederate Army to terrorist and northern defenses to Homeland security. It was an unsupportable statement and I couldn't believe a magazine of Smithsonian's prestige would print such dross. I am a man of southern heritage and rightly proud of it. I have become fed up with the media's promotion of derogatory stereotypes of southern white men.

28 August 2005 5:21 pm

Got to catch the hurricane news later. New Orleans is my favorite city and a category five hurricane, pushing a 20 foot storm surge, could be the end of it. You can rebuild, but you can never restore historical content. New Orleans is an old whore of a city. I love the tawdry slut.

29 August 2005 5:00 pm

Seems New Orleans was saved the brunt of the storms fury by its drift to the east. There has been major damage all the way to my home town of Mobile Alabama. The news said water was to the tops of parking meters in the downtown Mobile. Talking about the storm led me to discover another example of the ignorance of the average American. I was talking to a med-tech and the officer escorting her to deliver medication about the size of the storm and the roof coming off the Super Dome. The med-tech jumped in with an adamant proclamation about there being 200 million people in the Super Dome. I had a hard time convincing her there were not but five million people in all of Louisiana. Less than half million in New Orleans. I guess the government has thrown around outrageous numbers so long; millions, billions, trillions, that no one can conceive how big a million is. SAD!

31 August 2005 2:47 am

This has been a month of missed journal entries. One of those periods when my mind has wandered too much. I¿ll have to do better between now and the end of my participation in this project. I plan to make my last submitted entry on January 1st, 2006. Last night I was inundated with mail. I got my Prisoner Express Newsletter and it ws professionally done. A lovely job. New writing themes will keep me busy. Have to admit my little corner of thought impressed me. I seldom like something after it's been out of my hands for a long time. "Rebels of Courtesy" was one of those just for Gary things and I hadn't seen it since. Got a post card from Ramsay saying she got the last book section I mailed in two days. I'm hoping that means my complaint to the mail coordinator did some good. Also, got a huge bag of books from her. Lots of typing to do. I feel like the Mad Hatter in "Alice In Wonderland," "I'm late, I'm late!"

10-01-05 7:12 p.m.

Just finished typing "Scarlet Mage" for the second time, some sections more than otherse. If only the last section I'm mailed will get through and then this one does. With the postal system messed up by Hurricane Rita I'm more than a little worried. It'll be hard to retype the middle and have the page numbers come out right from a rough draft. I have a tendency to add and subtract as I type from rough drafts and not make note of changes. It's my nature and can't be changed. The last section got lost before and it will be the first time my best friend has read it. She edits and I hope she likes the ending.

10-02-05 10:01 p.m.

Got finished with proof reading my book and making corrections. Guess I should pray over it. I'd call on any power for help to get this through. Been a hard day and tomorrow I'll have to start catching up on all my other projects. I'll be busy for a few days and then I can get back to work on book two. It feels good to be accomplishing goals I set for myself. Even if it never gets published, though I believe it will, I've finished writing a book suitable for submission to a publisher. Once the writing is done I have to learn to write a proper outline and proposal. I'll have to do that professionally if I want any hope at all of publication. My first three chapters, all they read to decide if they want to read more, will have to catch the eye of a publisher. It would be dream worthy to get published.

10-03-05 11:23

Getting caught up! Journal entries are typed and read to go to Gary, I just finished my Human Development lesson for Jane and only have to decide what to do about dropping, or not, my College Guild history course. I'm considering letting that go because I want to concentrate on writing. Got excellent news in the mail. My friend got the manuscript I mailed and all I have left to worry about is this last section I'm mailing today will get through. I'm almost ready to get back to the creative part of writing that I truly love best. It's why I write.

10-05-05 5:05 p.m.

Had a nice solitary party with cookies, chips, nutty bars and cokes for my birthday yesterday. It was early, but enjoyable. Today I have gotten back to writing book two. It takes time to get back wrapped up into my world and characters so the story takes on a life on its own and begins to flow with me inside it rather than it inside me. The heat seemed worse when it returned after the short cold snap. Now they say another burst of cool is coming our way and I could use some cool. I'm so hot! It saps my energy and I'm in hopes of the cold restoring my vigor and letting me start to write at a faster rate. I'm going to rewrite the 68 pages I have done. I knocked those out when I finished book one and the story was carrying me along so fast I couldn't stop I'm proud to say I recognized I had reached the end of book one and knew this was something new when I wrote it.

10-06-05 7:23 p.m.

Good news! My journal entries are finally on the web site at Prisoner Express. That made my day. Someone will be reading all my whining. Got books from Fishliners and one is "Eragon" by Chirstopher Paolini. To think a teenager wrote a book and hit the New York Times' Best Seller List. Book two hit the list as well. It can be done, but not alone. He had much help from friends and family as he self-published. Started rewriting by hand so I can get back inside the story and start creating again.

10-07-05 2:55 p.m.

I've been reading to pass the time and because I found "Eragon" irresistible! It trapped me and now I'm held enthralled. Excellent book and I needed the escape. My morning radio show, Walton and Johnson, made an announcement yesterday. John Walton's son, Trent, had been fighting cancer for 3 " years. The cancer was gone, but Graft Versus Host Disease (GVHD) sat in. It had been a long battle and in that time it was as if I had come to know Trent. Trent played the guitar and built them too. His father often played hi music. Trent died from the ravages of cancer treatment and he was only 18. A good kid that should have had his whole life ahead of him. He's gone and an old convict had to cry as Mr. Walton played cuts of Trent's music today. It seems unfair that I live on in such a screwed up life and kids are dying before their time. Wish it could have been the other way around.

10-08-05 9:43 p.m.

The cool is invigorating! I finished the rewrite of chapter-1 in book two today and hope that means I'm ready to start rolling. By New Years I want this book ready to start typing. If I write a few pages every day it won't be a problem. Think I'll start writing down how many pages I do on my calendar again and set a goal of five pages per day. Then I make or beat my goal and if I want days off I earn then by doing extra. Saves me getting frustrated at the slow progress. After that the typing starts, but since I've dropped out of College Guide and will soon be finished with these journal entries, which take more effort than I thought they would, I'll have plenty of time to get it done.

10-09-05 6:05 p.m.

Got 8 pages done today. That's the start of a writing roll. I'm reading, "Bloodsucking Friends: A Love Story" by Christopher Moore. He's excellent! I do enjoy humorous prose. Life is going fairly well as time goes by. It's strange how quick the years go by when you're in prison. It seems to drag until you are dazed and then you look around to find years have passed by. Rewriting by hand is boring, but once I get past the pages I'm rewriting it'll be time to start creating. Lots of ideas floating around in my head and I don't know which ones will make it to paper. I don't do outlines. I write out of my head and never know where I'm going. All I know is it is going to be done. I insist on it. I think I'll need to have 3 books written before I can get published. I notice every publishing contract I read about is for three books. Being a prisoner they might not trust me to produce more, but can't bitch if they get the three up front.

10-10-05 3:15 p.m.

Today has been a no energy, do nothing day in prison. The sleep I got last night was in short stretches broken by vivid dreaming. I think the mind tries to compensate for the lack of sensory input with dreams of all you are missing locked into a solitary prison cell. It's easier for me than most because I am so involved in my writing and get such pleasure from my reading. What must it be like for non-readers that don't even imagine it. A bad day isn't permanent, it goes away and I'm back to normal. I have something that makes my life worth living. Some have nothing. How do they survive without even recognizing where dreams come from? Nightmares would be a more honest descriptive term. Now I need to shake off the hoof prints and do some writing. I have to write my way back to sanity.

10-11-05 7:08

Today I had a new and unique experience. I was served yellow crook necked squash at supper and had no reservations about taking a bite. It was the first time I ever put raw squash In my mouth and I didn't like it. After 14 years in prison and never being served raw squash I had no reason to expect this. I'll be more careful from now on. It had been boiled just enough to soften it to the texture of semi-rot. A very nasty and slimy taste. I guess too many of us were eating the squash, which I like, so they had to put a stop to squash eating. I'll be more cautious now.

10-12-05 12L01 a.m.

Another birthday is beginning in prison and it's off to a good start. My friend and neighbor, George, insisted on cooking for my birthday. This is a very good example of expectations and expectations are on my mind due to Expectations being an upcoming theme for our writing. You learn to not expect much in prison, but sometimes you are pleasantly surprised. Hopefully today will continue in this mode. I'd be happy if it was a day filled with lots of smiles and kind words. Those are worth expecting.

10-13-05 8:56 p.m.

The holidays, tis-the-season-to-be-blue, is officially here. Ever since my sister, Dorothy, born 10-15-56, died on 11-05-83 October to January has been a dark and desperate period for me. It has been lonely without her and my dysfunctional family dissolved soon after her death. As I've done in all the years since, I'll just struggle though it. When I was free this was a time to drink more and do as much dope as I could get to deaden the pain. I noticed in prison that I always got in fights this time of the year. It's easier being in ad-seg. The most I'm likely to do is cuss someone. It's a time I do best alone. I'll try to fill the time with reading and writing. I never get enough mail to not feel desperately alone this time of year.

10-15-05 6:09 a.m.

Today is my dead sisters birthday, she would have been 49 if she hadn't of died at epilepsy at 27. I can usually make myself feel better by thinking how much she would have disliked getting old. She died beautiful and left me to get old alone. I'm more melancholy than usual because I just woke form a dream about my family. The subconscious can be cruel. We were al there as I searched for clothes that would fit and everywhere there were poison spiders and there sticky webs. You'd think, after not hearing from them all these years, all my spiders would be dead. Yet they live and cling to my fingers and bite. Proof of no god or a god so cruel she is undeserving of worship is family. Why couldn't humans be born without all the emotional needs and ties like biting spiders.

10-16-05 8:15 a.m.

My spirits just got a lift when a nice lady officer noticed my birthday had recently passed and wished me a happy birthday. I don't know her well, it was just a random act of compassion that restored my faith in humanity. A smile and a kind word from a stranger meant more to me than she'll ever know. It wouldn't have been possible if I had allowed my state of mind to fill me with hate and anger. It's not easy to continue speaking kindly and smiling when your world is gone black. Today has made the effort worthwhile. My life doesn't seem so dark because of that little bit of kindness. If only such compassion was a requirement for working in prison.

10-17-05 8:28 a.m.

Went to my chronic care clinic and the doctor saw fit to piss me off. Normal! I have no idea what he will be ordering. I had to request this visit and when I got there found that a refusal had been filled out in my name for another Harris that had refused. Makes me wonder if this is why I have not been getting my lab work and clinics. It's aggravating to say the least. It wouldn't be a problem if it didn't cause my medications to be stopped if I don't go to these appointments. He was very frustrated due to the chatting of the black female escort guards. I could have easily joined in his asinine behaviors. Instead I waited quietly and now will deal with whatever comes, but I'm likely to have to write lots of letters to fix it.

10-18-05 2:14 p.m.

What a bad day. Due to a clerical error of the sort normal to the prison bureaucracy I was scheduled for a second chronic care clinic. Can't refuse even if it's redundant. This one was worse than yesterday. You see, I've been HIV positive since September of 2000 and on medication since January of 2001. At the time I began on medication my viral load was over one-hundred thousand and my CD-4 count was just above 300. These meds have worked wonderfully for me. My Viral load has been undetectable for over four years and my CD-4 count has climbed into the normal range at nearly one-thousand. Normal/healthy CD-4 count range is 800-1200. There is the problem. Since I got here at this prison in 2001 this P.A., Randal Healey, has wanted to take me off my antiretroviral medications. It's working so he thinks it should be stopped. That's how his mind works and I have no way to know if he stopped them or not until I don't get the medication. Don't know how I'll react if he does.

10-19-05 9:00 a.m.

Did lots of Prisoner Express typing and writing rather than book writing. Got to get ahead on that so I won't be disturbed by being behind. Decided to accept that the doctor is likely to stop my meds and to just hope for the best while I fight to get it restarted. It'll make me mad and I'll have a hard time keeping a grip on my temper. All I can do is try. All bets are off if he lets my virus strain mutate and become resistant to these meds. Then he'll be taken years off my life.

10-21-05 2:39 a.m.

Sending a letter and the Summer/2005 Prisoner Express Newsletter to Ray Hill at "The Prison Show" in Houston. Now the website is up it's time to start advertising to get links to the site on better known prison related websites. Sending Gary a letter and the last theme essays up to 02-15-06 for Prisoner Express. I put in a couple of possibles for my little corner. One is, "Path of Life" and the other is "Rebels of Freedom." Both are damn good examples of my writing style. Have a new idea for The Sun. I'm going to write about how I accidentally found Gary and how it let, through friendship, to his forming Prisoner Express. An interesting story that could get Prisoner Express some exposure and help with funding. I can hope.

10-22-05 1:39 p.m.

Haven't heard from my best friend in nearly two weeks. In all the years we've been writing this has never happened before. It's hard for prisoners to deal with this sort of thing. Suddenly your letters are going unanswered and you can't help but wonder if you've done something to offend or maybe they got tired of your clinging dependency. In this case I know better and I still can't be afraid. the greater fear is that my friend is sick or hurt. I can only hope not. There's no way to find out until someone lets me know. It'll be a long weekend of worry. Friends are rare and I can't afford to lose one. How lonely my life would be without her letters.

10-24-05 9:35 a.m.

This damn weekend is past and I'm hoping for mail from my missing friend tonight. Freeworld people don't know what life is like without access to immediate communication devices like telephones and e-mails. Snail mail is slow and in prison it is so likely to get misdirected and lost. I'd scream if it would do any good. It wouldn't. The anxiety is often what breaks prisoners at times when they have reason to be anxious.

10-25-05 8:28 a.m.

Got a letter from my friend and she is fine. Okay, I believe in God now. My book ending even got through to her. Best of all, she said it was excellent, over all. For an excellent I'll type the whole damn thing over to make it perfect. Looks like I'm missing some mail. That happens too often when you're in prison. It's so easy to lose mail and the post office in Houston isn't the best either. Probably hiring illegal aliens that can't read and write English. This is the worst place I've ever been for mail being lost. It happens constantly here.

10-26-05 8:01 a.m.

Got a book and letter from my friend that she mailed September 30th and it took nearly four weeks to get here. I sent her an answer and a copy of my little piece about the founding of Prisoner Express and its value to prisoners. I'm in hope of it getting published and bringing some publicity and support to Prisoner Express. I really think it's time to get the word out about what Prisoner Express is doing. We could wind up with a mentor for every prisoner in America that wanted one.

10-27-05 10:40 a.m.

Even the best of intentions can cause trouble. Gary forwarded me a letter from a prisoner in California. It was denied and it could have gotten my privileges (typewriter, radio, store) revoked if they had written a case. Gary hadn't gotten my letter telling him not to do this and why. Prisoner Express is sure to be under closer surveillance now. Prisoner Express is too important to take these chances, not to mention my privileges being in jeopardy, for Prisoner Express to break the rules and give prisons and excuse to bar them from contact with prisoners. I'll have to write Gary again and try to make sure he understands. Prisons will not allow him to help prisoners circumvent their rules. I'll mail it with these journal entries.

10-29-05 2:35 a.m.

Just got a short letter from my friend who was missing. It was mailed on 10/11/05 to let me know she got the book ending and had the blues so wouldn't edit until she felt better. It took 16 days for this letter to come from Maine to Texas. Must have gotten slowed down by going by dog sled from Maine and Pony Express through Texas. Naa, that would be faster than this. Maybe a gas shortage. It surely caused me a lot of worry and aggravation. At least in her blues she knew someone cared and missed her. Maybe that helped. Well, if it got to her and that's not for sure.

10-31-05 12:48 a.m.

It is Hallow Eve, the night when spirits are freed from the grave to walk amongst the living. I'm in hope of an interesting spirit visit. I'd like to talk to someone that had experienced being dead and could tell me the truth of what came afterward. I've been sending journal entries from one year to Gary at Prisoner Express now and have two more months to complete 2005. Want to do tis-the-season-to-be-blue again before I stop sending in my entries. Being a non-Christian I celebrate the winter solstice and the beginning of a new year it marks.

11-01-05 10:44 a.m.

Free world people wonder why prisoners disobey rules. Let me explain. A few days ago they were passing out jackets. The rule is you exchange your last years dirty jacket for a clean one if they never picked up the jackets, which they hadn't done. When I tried to exchange my dirty one I was told I was not allowed to do so and couldn't get a clean jacket. Yes, after a year my jacket needed washing and you can't wash these in the toilet because They'll grow mold before they can dry. They're quilted. Today I asked for a jacket and had to skirt the edge of an untruth to get one. She asked if I had gotten one and I said "No," real loud then mumbled, "this year." Under my breath so she wouldn't hear me. Now I have two jackets and will throw out the old one later. It would have been so much easier for all concerned to just have exchanged my jacket the other day. There is no reward here for being honest and following the rules. I hate that.

11-02-05 3:08 p.m.

Been sleeping too much. The cold makes me want to hibernate curled up under my blanket. The book outline is coming along. It's slow and I'm finding enough minor typos to make me ashamed of myself. Looks like I missed proof reading a few pages. That's the bad news. The good news is that I'm damn proud of this book. Doing the outline I read a chapter at a time and then write the outline of that chapter. It has been long enough since I last read over this that I can see it more clearly. Before it had begun to look like crap. Now I'm seeing the gold nuggets mixed in. Good enough!

11-03-05 7:56 a.m.

I'm reading "Blind Ambition" by John Dean about the Nixon Administration. It is proof that history really does repeat itself. As I read about the Nixon Administrations' criminal nature it is evident that Bush's administration has much in common with them. Unfortunately, there is no force wiling to restrain Bush and company and punish the miscreants. They will certainly much less partisan. I can only hope the midterm elections will shift the power in Congress to the Democrats so we can have impeachment proceedings.

11-04-05 8:18 p.m.

Seems the harder you try to be civil the harder some officers try to be obnoxious. It's often the result of accumulated slights that sets off my temper and makes me blow up. We exchange dirty sheets for clean ones once per week on Friday nights. The rule is that on odd dated days they start on one row and on even dated days they start on two row first. Tonight she started on one row and it was our day for going first. She ran completely out of sheets and I asked about our getting sheets. It wouldn't be so bad if it didn't happen so often and they always use the same excuse about why they started on one row, "They forgot." This was the second even dated Friday in a row we got screwed over and that makes it three weeks since we got sheets exchanged. If they had any left they are ripped up rags by the time they are half finished and that is why the policy of rotation. Trying to ask the guard was a mistake. At first she tried to ignore me and then when I asked she screamed a

11-06-05 12:09 p.m.

Finished the rough draft of my book outline and now I'll have to type it. In the process I found a ton of errors. Jeez! I made a list so my friend can repair her copy. Once this outline is typed and sent to my point person we'll be sending this book out to a publisher in search of a contract. What a change it would make in my life if I could become financially self-sufficient. My fantasies have me get wealthy, but I'd settle for enough to supply my simple needs here in prison. If I had enough money I might be able to buy myself a parole through a high power parole consultant. It's a very satisfying fantasy.

11-08-05 12:03 p.m.

We are finally on lock down for the much anticipated biannual major shake down. I just cleaned my cell and shook myself down to assure I don't have any contraband I have forgotten stashing and put my property papers on the appropriate electronic devices I own so there will be no doubts about my legitimate ownership. Got a letter from my buddy Walt and it always shocks me how much he and I have in common when our backgrounds are so different. He made the mistake of asking to read some of my writing when I could really use a good intelligent reader for my fantasy novel. He asked for it, but had no idea what he was getting into. He's not a fan of fiction, much less the fantasy genre. If he likes it at all I'll be happy.

11-09-05 7:00 p.m.

Just had a long conversation in which I was asked to give a lesson in economics. My neighbor thought all American currency was backed by gold and I had to explain that we went off the gold standard in 1933. That led to my looking up the amount of gold America possesses and the dollar value of all the currency in circulation. The hardest part was getting him to comprehend what a billion is. He said he could probably count to 5000. Then I multiplied by 365 and got 1,825,000. That would mean it would take over 500 years to count to one-billion, or spend it if you were spending $5,000.00 per day. He was awed by that and then I moved into the national debt being measured in trillions. Our government has thrown these massive numbers around so long that no one comprehends their meaning any more.

11-10-05 2:52 p.m.

The shake down is finally done and I got off fairly easy by making shaking me down as easy as possible for the officer doing it. It's not contraband I worry about, or what they'll take, because I have nothing that is suspect. It's the condition of what they leave behind that bothers me. If they dump out all my papers looking for contraband and my papers get mixed up I'm really screwed with all the manuscript copies I have of my writing to try to separate. I put some old books that no one wanted in a pile by the door to let him have something to throw away that was easy to get to and left the radio playing for his enjoyment. My property papers were easily accessed and all my other stuff was out on my bunk to save him effort. My theory has been proven many times: If you make a guards job easy they appreciate it.

11-12-05 3:26 p.m.

Slept all day except for the time I spent working on my proposal letter. I finished the outline yesterday and I'm getting ready to initiate submission to a publisher. Acceptance would be a dream come true and have me doing the Snoopy dance. I would rather not consider the effect of a rejection letter. I won't be pretty and I'm tempted to use the shotgun approach and send submissions to three separate publishers. Publishers discourage this technique and consider the behavior unethical. I wouldn't be tempted if the wait for a response wasn't so long. One at a time it will take two years to get to three publishers and it takes a year or two to get the book published once it is accepted. I want this to happen now while I'm alive to enjoy the money I'm going to make.

11-13-05 3:26 p.m.

I was up all night explaining race, nationality and class differences to my neighbor. Mexican is not a race. It's a nationality. African is not a race or a nationality. It's a geographic identifier for an entire continent. Only three races exist; caucasian, mongoloid and negroid, though these are broken into subsets these are the basics. Some count Pacific Islander a distinct racial group. When you discuss it and look at it intellectually you see how silly the American hang-up over race is. How can you be Irish, African, Mexican, Italian, or German if you were not born in those countries? Adding American as a suffix to any of these when you are born in America is inane. They are nationalities as is American and you can't be both. Latino and Hispanic are used as racial designations of even broader terms when they simply mean a person from a country that speaks spanish. If you're born in America you can only be one nationality except in specific circumstances and race is irrelevant. It would be nice to see America being a sensible approach to denoting race where appropriate with the proper term.

11-14-05 9:34 p.m.

Got a letter from a wonderful young lady tonight through the Prisoner Express website and pen pal program at Cornell University. I so enjoy getting to know new people an I hope she sticks around long enough to get to know me. She wants to be a writer and that gives us common ground to build a friendship. Friends are so hard to come by and a new one is special.

11-15-05 11:06 p.m.

Today was store day, but I was broke. No big deal. I got mail tonight and found my friend has been rescuing cats. She now has three. She sent me some money and it'll be here by next store day and I can stock up. I'm glad I got broke enough to force me to break my caffeine addiction. Most people do realize how addicting it is. There was a good reason for coke replacing the cocaine in their product with caffeine when cocaine became illegal. I also got the theme writing essays from Prisoner Express. I'm very agitated at what one writer has written. He seems to be missing the point about the goals of Prisoner Express. I've written a rebuttal and will be sending it to Gary with my suggestion that he no longer distribute such writings. P.E. is too special to let one idiot to ruin it for everyone involved.

11-16-05 7:06 p.m.

I'm trying to wrap my mind around the plot of this book and get it moving again I've written myself into a blind alley and have to write my way out while burning time. I need some years to pass for the plot to work and that has made time my nemesis to writing it. It's a matter of continuity. I'll think of some way to make it happen as it should.

11-18-05 8:02 p.m.

Once again the guards have refused to follow until policy and start on two row to pass out sheets on the even date. That is how they assure everyone gets a chance at clean sheets at least once every two weeks rather than running out on the same people every week. It's been four weeks since I got to exchange my sheets for clean ones. What is so sad is how hard I've tried to explain this to the guards and they refuse to try to understand. Now I'll have to write to the warden and if he does nothing I'll begin to write grievances on every individual officer to address this issue. I wish they'd just move me to one row. They always get their go first days on the odd dates and usually go first on the even dates too.

11-19-05 6:54 p.m.

Book two is rolling along. In my mind I have a dozen possible directions for the plot to go in every situation. Until the story comes to life I can't write. Once the characters take on a life of their own it's like the story is writing itself. My radio reception was knocked out last night. I could get the stereo light on where my channel should have been, but nothing came out but a low buzz. You might say I can't know it is being done on purpose, but I do know because when I get angry enough to cuss out the run and threaten to blow out the electricity if my radio didn't come on it came on fast. If I'm not typing I don't need the electricity except to listen to the radio. It was funny how fast it came back on and hasn't went out since. To know how to get it back on the person knocking it out had to know what he was doing that knocked it out. That means on purpose.

11-20-05 4:01 a.m.

All night, from 9:00 p.m. to 1:00 a.m., some asshole was calling my bluff and knocking out my radio reception. For four hours I didn't hear one song completely through. Then they got me knocked out totally again and I threw a cup of water on the electrical outlet to see who would whine. It worked. When the power came back on they backed off and let my radio station play. Now they have just started back, but when I yelled they stopped. Knocking out the electricity is terribly juvenile, but it's all I can do. It looks like we'll be playing cell warrior games until I can get moved. I've talked to Lt. Hoot and he said he'd try. I hate this wing.

11-22-05 8:53 p.m.

Wrote seven pages tonight. The story is coming to life as the characters take charge of events. Got my Mother Jones in tonight and will read it later. Last night I got a letter form my firend that edits my writing for me and is helping me with this book. She had made a suggestion and I had done the rewrite to make the changes in agreement with her opinion on this issue. I thought she'd said she got those corrections in a prior letter, but this letter was reiterating on why she thought those changes necessary. Now I'm not sure if she got the rewrites or not and will have to ask. My mail is a constant worry and doesn't always get off the prison grounds. Maybe she'll send me copies before next store day. If I had stamps to mail I'd have wrote her last night and tried to find out what had happened. I thought book one was done and ready for submission as soon as the outline got to her. Maybe not and I can't be sure the outline will get there either.

11-23-05 4:14 p.m.

Just had a shower. For some reason they are now operable 24 hours per day, rather than the 30 minutes once per day at a set time they used to work on. Showering on my schedule is enjoyable. You'll all be glad to know all my bitching and blowing out the power seems to have done some good. It forced a dialogue with a ranking gang member and he looked into the problem. Radio reception interference is now a rarity, as it should be, and we can all listen in peace. I've been thinking about the numbers our government throw around. God! A billion dollars would take over 500 years to spend even if you made no interest and spent $5,000.00 per day. We just can't grasp those numbers. Such wealth is beyond excessive and totally obsessive. How would the world be changed in all the super rich gave their extreme wealth to the poor and only kept a reasonable income to support themselves and their families? There would no longer be world hunger and health care would be free. Instead th

11-25-05 5:57 p.m.

Been on a time out to recharge my batteries and read before I get back to writing this damn book. Writing takes more energy than I ever dreamed it could until I started doing it. Short stuff is easy. To keep the plot line of a novel cohesive and believable is a whole different animal. It is coming along and that is all that matters. As I go I backtrack and check myself while constantly doing rewrites. As much as I love writing it makes me want to scream and pull out my hair by the hands full.

11-26-05 5:47 a.m.

Got great news last night. My book manuscript is on the way to the publisher and all I can do is cross my fingers and toes and hope they like it enough to publish it. I have a power of attorney to sign and don't know why she made it so limited. I'd rather have given her an unlimited power of attorney. The book wouldn't even exist if not her making the resources available for me to write it. Guess it's the lawyer training coming out in her to make her write such a careful document. Like I'd care what she did with the money if I happened to make any. I can't spend much anyway so somebody needs to be my party proxy to celebrate my success.

11-27-05 2:18 p.m.

It's another of my can't wake up phases. All I can do is sleep. It might be my not having any tea or coffee to drink. I ran out and have decided it's time to give it up and get over the caffeine addiction. It cost too much to never run out. The headache and lethargy is retribution for bad planning. I'll get some hot cocoa mix at store Tuesday. I do still drink the tea and coffee provided with meals because it's so weak it wouldn't leave me with a headache not to have it if I drank it by the gallon. It's also free. They just brought us a cup of coffee to go with supper. That means we are having breakfast tonight. That's my favorite meal here I've started to type these journals and hope to be through by the time the month ends. One month to go. I do hope all my readers have come to realize prison sucks and crime ain't worth the consequences.

11-28-05 9:24 a.m.

Got "Sierra Story" by Henry B. Stark and I'm very enthusiastic about this new project. The questions he asks seem insightful and I think this will be my fun. Tomorrow is store day and I'm looking forward to it. I can get my mail caught up. It's hard to get motivated to write when I don't have the stamps to mail with. Got a letter ready for Walt today and already have one for Gary and Ramsay too. Talked a neighbor into witnessing the power of attorney to let Ramsay act in my name. It's time to go read this book and keep notes at the appropriate places. I want to do this well. It has to do with writing and that is my passion. To have contact with a published writer is a dream come true and wroth more than I can ever find words to express.

11-29-05 6:14 p.m.

Made store today. It's always enjoyable, but they never seem to have plenty of typewriter ribbons. I ordred four and only got two. I am proud that I stuck to my guns and didn't buy and tea or coffee. I got cocoa to have a hot drink. At least it has some calories. Breaking this addiction to caffeine is going to be hard. Did my Human Development lesson and have all my mail ready to go. I'm going to type some more of this month's journal entries and I'm working on the "Sierra Story" questions already. By New Year's Day I want all my projects cleared so I can concentrate on writing my second book.

11-30-05 6:15 p.m

My lack of energy has intensified. Maybe my sugar intake since store is doing it. I've been on a chocolate sugar binge. Hot cocoa, chocolate fudge cream cookies, nutty bars and a chocolate moonpies. I did finish answering the questions that came with Mr. Stark's book. Now I need to type it and a letter to him as well. I'm so behind. I'll be bored once I catch it all up.

12-01-05 3:30 p.m.

This year is winding to a close faster now. During the holidays I always wonder how many more Thanksgivings, Christmases and New Year's Days I'll have to see here in a prison cell. My mental state is better this year than it's ever been before. I'm not sure what the difference is, but I'm sure the many changes in my life in the last few years are, at least in my part, responsible. Being busy helps and having my book gives me more hope than I've had in years. Writing success could give me leverage to get out on parole. If I could put a copy of a fat bank statement and another of a income tax return showing I paid a healthy amount of tax I'd have to have a better change of parole than as a homeless person with no family and very little chance of viable employment.

12-03-05 1:09 a.m.

Been talking to my across the way neighbor, Chaos, for hours. I'm nearly caught up on my typing again. It bothers me when I get behind. And I've written a two page essay on psychic experience that needs typing along with three more letters. No sweat. I'll be finished by Monday and can return to writing my book. Got a letter and found out she has mailed my Christmas books. They should get here by next week. I'm going to go on a reading binge. Standing at the door talking tires me out. I hurt like I've been working all day. My December issue of The Sun came in tonight and I look forward to reading it before breakfast. Three weeks until Christmas and four until New Year's Day. Another year done and a busy January coming up.

12-03-05 11:33 a.m.

My neighbor cussed a lday guard a few days ago. Today she is our wing rover and, just as she told him she would, didn't feed him lunch. This is a very nice lady. She wished me a happy birthday when she noticed my birth date on my I.D. card. Yet she is surly a bit of a psycho to hold such a grudge. The neighbor is too. Living in the midst of such insanity can make you crazy.

12-04-05 12:27 p.m.

A very sweet lady guard is on our wing this morning. Mrs. Rogers is one of those Christians that staunchly supported George Bush for president. Now she regrets it. She has two sons in Iraq and is very upset at how things are going. If only all those like her had known the truth of Iraq before the last election we wouldn't have Bush as president now. We can only blame the media for not informing the public so Americans would be able to vote intelligently. The myth of the liberal media has been proven a lie. How can the media be free to voice dissent when it is owned by megacorporations that make huge profits out of wars? Guess that explains why they are so willing to invest in media, especially newspapers, that lose money are making very small profits. They use them to mold public opinion to support their more profitable corporate interest.

12-05-05 8:55 p.m.

The Supreme Court has been much on my mind. Though I don't believe a person's religion should be considered in blocking their appointment or in choosing who to appoint, nor in elected office for that matter; it seems suspicious that so many conservative Catholics are now seated on America's highest court and in control of one branch of our government. My problem is not that they might vote their individual opinions when interpreting the Constitution's meaning. Hypothetically you have to consider that these men are subject to coercion by a foreign power (the Pope) by having their participation denied in their religion for voting in ways the Pope dictates sinful. Should the Pope have even this slight control over the highest court in the land? I don't think so. Such control should be reason for impeachment and removal from the bench. The Pope has proven he is more than willing to meddle in our politics by denying mass to politicians that don't adhere to Catholic doctrine in th

12-07-05 9:07 a.m.

Had hoped to get through tis-the-season without a dose of blues. They set in yesterday, but I'm thankful they waited so late in the year to start. I'll get over it. Maybe I'll be lucky and get a new neighbor I really like and can interact with on a more intellectual level. My current neighbor goes home Friday and I expect he'll be back locked up before the New Year. His attitude isn't good at all.

12-08-05 3:47 p.m.

My books were delivered by the mailroom today because they couldn't send them with regular mail due to denying the bookmark. It had a tassel and those are dangerous contraband. Go figure! We all have hundreds of feet of homemade string we use to send stuff between cells. It's like their not allowing us to have boxer shorts with elastic or thermal bottles because the elastic can be used to make slingshots and spear shooters. That sounds perfectly reasonable until you notice how many people have bough elastic topped boxers from the prisoners that pass out clothes or you buy a legal folder from commissary and notice the powerful elastic band that comes with it to hold it shut. So many rules are just plain silly.

12-10-05 3:47 p.m.

I didn't do any entry yesterday because I have been reading "Eldest" by Christopher Paolini. The youngster can write. The last book in this trilogy may not come out until late next year. He needs to hurry after leaving me hanging at the end of this one. He surely writes a story that holds on to my attention. I haven't even written Ramsay. I'll get caught up on that tomorrow. I'm mostly finished with all my most time consuming projects, except for typing this last month of journal entries. Then I intend to give my full attention to completing book two of my series. It's hard to concentrate on it when I'm not sure of the fate of book one that's at the publisher. May my Muse bless my book's progress toward acceptance. One published book would fix all my financial problems.

12-12-05 8:20 a.m.

Went outside to recreation and talked to my new neighbor. He seems to be one that needs help and I'm not sure how much I want to trust him. I think he needs a dose of Prisoner Express and we can take him further if he shows promise through his participation. Tomorrow we'll be going to the store and I'm giving up on my fight against my caffeine addiction. I admit I'm an addict and guess I'll just have to live with it.

12-14-05 11:47 a.m.

Today my months of courtesy brought a reward. The prisoner passing out boxers was one I don't know, but for months I've said please and thank you to all of them. I needed a new pair of boxers. It's hard to get good ones unless you are willing to pay for them and when I get a good pair I keep them and wash them out myself. A few trips through the dryer shrinks them into crack biting "Daisy Duke" shorts. He went through the extra effort to dig through his bag of boxers and find me a new pair and didn't even attempt to charge me for them. It was his way of repaying me for months of courtesy. Of course, even when courtesy is ignored or thought a sign of weakness, which has a tendency to be often in prison, it has it's own reward in the sure knowledge that you are retaining your humanity by your actions. No lack of appreciation can take that away from you. Those rare moments when civilized conduct is acknowledged with gratitude are pure gravy. Being a southerner, born in 'Bam

12-15-05 4:14 p.m.

Today I got a surprise book in the mail. It was "Knife of Dreams" by Robert Jordan and a hardback version. My friend really could have waited for the paperback edition to come out. She's my best friend and a crazy lady, but I adore her. It is some better on this wing now. The question is: Will it last? I have a new neighbor that I can talk to. That helps me to do my time and I think it helps him too. We all need someone to talk to to make the days go by. My problem is that I've worked so hard to elevate my mind that I have trouble relating to my fellow prisoners. Most would rather inflate their egos than their I.Q.s.

12-18-05 11:32 a.m.

I've been reading "Knife of Dreams." As successful as Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series has been, and this book is #11, I'm learning more about what not to do with a fantasy series than what to do with one. He has allowed his main characters and plots to be overrun by proliferating secondary plots and characters. His prologue is nearly 100 pages long and has very little substance to it. Much of this, in my opinion, could have been left as subplot and freed up space to get own with the story. Don't guess I have room to say anything until my books succeed, but I'm saying it anyway. So far, I am still holding together and keeping back the seasonal depression. That beast has long and bloody claws and is hard to keep at bay. I'm a bit lethargic, but that's not unendurable. Holidays are real sucky times to be in prison. You have too much time to remember better seasons and the failures that brought you to this dark pass. How many more of these holidays must I endure here?

12-20-05 9:34 p.m.

Last night, I got a letter from a pen pal I hadn't heard from in nearly a year. It was great to get the letter and find out he was okay. Friendships by mail are hard to maintain and they are all we have in prison. It can make you stressed out when suddenly someone stops writing. You wonder what you might have done to offend them. We prisoners are a big responsibility because we are all so emotionally needy. Deciding to become a prisoner's pen pal is like getting a puppy; if you're not up to the long term commitment you really should refrain.

12-22-05 2:23 a.m.

Had a strange visit with a self-styled "HIV Expert" at telemed by satellite connection. He offered to change my medication to a new one with less chance of long term toxicity. I surprised him by not wanting to change. He couldn't guarantee that this medication would work as well as what I take, but the nurses tried to coerce me into accepting the change. They don't like it when you refuse to cooperate. I'd bet they have a deal to test a new medication for a pharmaceutical company. The doctor wasn't nearly as offended as the nurses. All he said was, "You don't gamble, do you?" When all my test numbers have remained excellent for over four years and the side-effects have become minimal I can see no reason why I should make a change. At least he was agreeable with leaving my treatment as it is. Maybe it's just prison paranoia, but I don't trust the state and just because I'm in a paranoid state doesn't mean they're not out to get me.

12-23-05 10:49 a.m.

Was just informed by an officer they were now going to enforce the rule about covering the windows in the doors of our cells. A zero tolerance policy was now in effect. Since each wings has two aisles of cells that face each other we cover our cell widows in the doors the same way, and for the same reasons, that free world people close their bathroom doors when they shower or use the toilet. May of the prisoners affected by this will use this as an excuse to expose themselves to female officers. Another tiny bit of privacy has been lost. Since we have so damn little it will be sorely missed by all of us.

12-24-05 Christmas Eve! 1:04 p.m.

It's moving day. I'm always thrilled to get past Christmas and into the New Year. It's a hard and stressful time for prisoners. The supervisors enforce the rules on guards, forcing them to do regular cell checks because so many ad-seg prisoners commit suicide this time of year. I've been working on getting my mail ready to go out. That's a regular weekend event. I've only got one more stressful event coming up; my 180 day State Classification Committee will be in early January. They are the ones that decide if I'm ready to be returned to general population. At this point, and after some serious consideration, I don't think I'll ever be ready. Wish I had a choice, but they don't give me one. If not for the 90 days I'll have to spend on close custody I'd be more willing to try it. I just don't think I can deal with having another roommate that spends his life standing in the cell door masturbating. The only females they see over on close custody are the nurses and female

12-25-05 Christmas Day! 2:46 p.m.

As usual, we were fed good today. Twice per year, Thanksgiving and Christmas, they give us a real feast. The only mar on the menu was the pie. It was awful and I have no idea what flavor it was supposed to be. Chocolate nut snot would be my best guess. I have developed a theory about the elevated suicide rate during Christmas and believe it will lead to a solution. It's all the Christmas music that does it. After the umpteenth rendition of "Blue Christmas" the most stable individual is ready to kill something, even oneself. The constant drone of Christmas music must be banned to protect the weak of mind or spirit. I have had a decent Christmas without the usual level of depression and I think it's due to the radio station I listen to not playing much Christmas music. Christmas carols should come with a warning label.

12-25-05 10:28 p.m.

Once per week, on Sunday night from 10 p.m. to 12 p.m., my radio station has a hard rock show. The girl D.J., Wendy Miller, normally D.J.s the weekday 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. regular rock show. The Hard Show is done out of her love for hard rock music. I'm not a big fan of hard rock music, but I love Wendy. Part of her show is a "Cell Block of Rock" where she plays requests by prisoners. Tonight has given me a new reason for my affection. This is Christmas night and she's on vacation. She has twins that are only six and could have stayed home. Tonight, she came in and dedicated the entire show to prisoner's requests. It's nice to know someone cares when you are here and disconnected from family and friends. That little lady has touched some convicts' hearts this night.

12-27-05 5:00 p.m.

It was a long night. My temper got the best of me when, for the umpteenth time, someone turned on a FM Signal Booster that had been rewired to push so much power that it backfeeds and knocks out any stations close to the station it's turned to. One minute my rock station is on and the next my channel Pops! with static and I'm listening to Tehano music. They don't see nything wrong with messing up reception for me, but as soon as I lose my temper and blow out the electrical power they all get mad at me. There are eight of us with this breaker and no one will admit having a booster. At least I'm man enough to admit that I threw water in the socket to knock out the electricity. Usually the power is back on in a couple of hours and they don't mess up my radio reception for a few days. This time it stayed out for 14 hours and they were more than usual pissed about it. It took days for me to lose my temper about the ever increasing time they were keeping my radio station knocked off. I kept trying to comprise and listen to another station and the more I gave the less time I got to listen to my chosen station. It wouldn't be so bad if there was another channel that played the same mix of old and new rock, there isn't. I've decided to try to get all the FM signal boosters confiscated as contraband. They are all rewired and that makes them contraband by prison rules. If they didn't rewire them they wouldn't cause so much trouble. I've written the warden prison that provides a cable antenna hook up. They are meant for use on the older prisons where reception is hard to get and you only have a dipole antenna rather than a shared cable system.

12-29-05 6:32 p.m.

The last days of this year seem to be rolling by in a blur. The whole year flew by. Yet there is a lingering too. Time is arbitrary in its passage in prison. Many times it is moving at its fastest when it seems the most lethargic. I'm wanting to get back to writing book two, but have decided to force myself to wait until after my State Classification Committee and find out if I'm being released to population. I'll deal with it if they release me. I'm pretty sure it'll lead to problems if they put me on close custody. Oh well, it only takes four months to get my level one back if I have to get in trouble and come back to ad-seg for violence. Even if it's in self-defense violence isn't allowed. The supervisors have a tendency to put prisoners in positions that require violence to survive. Of course, when violent conflict occurs they act like they can't understand how it could happen. It's a fact of life when you are a prisoner.

12-30-05 9:13 a.m.

Guess I should close out my year by talking about some of what I've revealed in these daily journal entries. You can surely see the anger that simmers beneath the surface. Dealing with that hostility and resisting the urge to externalize the blame for my incarceration on any handy targets takes a lot of energy. It's what most prisoners do. It's not easy to accept my blame for all my problems, but if I'm the blame I can better hope to be the solution. Bad decisions have led me to this place of pain and only some good ones on my part will lead me out again. There's a lot about books I've enjoyed and even some about books that let me down. Guess my blowing my own horn about my writing has been overbearing. It's what fills my cell and life with hope for tomorrow and an integral part of how I survive in this place. Without the hope my writing gives me I'd be hard pressed to find a reason to make it through each day. It's my hope of success and financial independence. I'd like

12-31-05 6:14 a.m.

Today I'd like to speak to those that have taken time to read about my life and thoughts for an entire year. I've tried to be honest and to make it all understandable. Of course, for those with no prior experience of being incarcerated, it must seem alien. Feel free to write me and ask any questions you might wish answered. You may have noticed how stressful I get when I near one of these dates when I could possibly be released to general population and wondered why a lowering of my security status would be stressful. It's considered an improvement. How can I explain my fear of having to return to an-seg for committing more violence? I seem to attract a typical type of prisoner's attention that sees my friendly personality as a sign of weakness I want to allow myself to be robbed, raped or beaten either. One important aspect of my journal is the documentation of the effect receiving money or packages of books has on me and all prisoners. Life is so bleak without those gifts

01-01-06 Happy New Year! 5:05 p.m.

It's a brand new year and this year I'll be making no New Years resolutions. I can never keep them anyway, and don't even have enough control of my life to feel guilty about not keeping them. What I will do is the same thing I do every year for a while now. I'll enter this New Year with Great Expectations and do the best I can. Blessings to all. May your New Year be blessed and filled with joy.