The journal of J.R. Sollars

Table of Contents:

25 March 2007

Just another day in the neighborhood. Slept till nine, got up, fixed a cup of coffee. Started to watch tv but it was the rerun. Ended up working on BDI screenplay. I was going to start a short story to get in the mail, maybe next week. No rec at noon but they did finally manage to open it at six o'clock. Played volleyball till about nine thirty they I just kicked back enjoyed the breeze, the fresh air and saw one star t&t! I think often 'bout Suzy and kids and wonder if they think of me. Reminds me of an old friend, Keith, funny he has been dead about twenty years now and I still think of him. But there he is like Elvis, s bother of sorrow and loneliness. I wished I could find a way to just numb out all emotions. I think I'd prefer a life of logic.

WROTE: sent a letter to the editor of Inside Journal on aan article they ran about suicide. It was written from an anti-suicidal P.O.V which is not good journalism. Suicide makes perfect sense if the person has weighed the justifications in the scales of the time and probability. Had my so-called loved ones left me the hell alone I wouldn't be where I am now and there would be two less kids in the ragged world and more room for the rats. People only care where death might actually effect them. Very selfish. Fact is all people will abandon you when you really get into a hard spot. Suicide is a perfect logical answer. The results maybe positive over the long run.

26 March 2007

Been a busy day. Kept all nine lawn mowers up and running and actually rebuilt and added one to the stable for a total of fourteen. Found a snake, the cold season is over. Founds a stainless steal watch I should be able to turnover for a 5-10 dollars windfall. Also found a coaxle cable for a stamp. Got some Jalapeno peppers seeds and planted them, so that'll be productive in about three months.

Had a liberation moment I defied public opinion and boat like odds in rebuilding an old lawnmower. I'd be a few bucks richer.

T&T: I am trying to focus on ways to forget on forget especially the names and the face of those I have emotional ties to. Human emotions are a wedge in the will of man. Suzy, taught me much and after 17 years I am finally recognizing that the very definitions of those things I once thought were valuable are exactly what is holding me back mentally. There is no such thing as love or friends. People only care when you have something they either want or need. Friends are a social myth, they just don't exist. On the up beat though, those jewels pf experience opens the world to true freedom because you find that there are no loses in losing a lover or a so-called friend is just something perhaps my time in here, reputation goes a long way so I understand most of the guys around me they fear death and /or pain. Death and pain reminds us of our natural existence, we are just organic entities on an organic planet.

27 March 2007

Days like today are jewels. Every lawn mower ran smooth and only one problem a broken blade bolt which took only ten minutes to tap out and replace. Tuesday's are my longes days and I just never seem to learn to back off some activities. It started at 2:30 I got up for clothes and show. Work was regular and we cam in at one o'clock at which I stamped out and played v. ball tille three thirty. Stayed up for chow at six then went to my Kiaros meeting from seven to ten. Dean E. and Leon were there. Seeing Dean is always a trip, good men are just plain hard to find and he is one of the few. Thoughts and Thinking: I went off on Fatboy and that Protective Custody Chump. I cant believe some inmates actually think they have it bad. They don't seem to understand how laid back this unit is. But, they can't comprehend since they've no other experience. I tried to explain to them the difference between this place and death row. But it's a life thing they just don't get it. Anyway, personally most inmates in Texas should have had their mammas sent to prison with them. My soar spot is weak whining ass inmates anyway. Karma is the ultimate law, "what you put out is what you get." As long as I try to do what I feel is right I'm cool cuz I'm the only one who has to put up with me.

28 March 2007

Morning came just to dawn fast. But it did and it tended to slack a bit before work. Work went well although it seemed taxing. But the unit is mowed all eighty eight acres. Was going yo go in and make a nap after work but decided to stay out on rec. yard and play some v.ball. it was a pretty good day to get control guide. The nice thing about busy short days is, I don't have time to think. So today I was able to forget I was human I went to bed at 6:00PM.

29 March 2007

It was a pretty good day. I got all the L-blades sharpened. I didn't get no serious maintenance done. But the blades are read on every machine. I hustled a 4'' grinding disc and 4'' wine brush for the grinder. I also got my screenplay and two short stories back that I had left in my desk out in M-Fab. So now I have everything from out there. I got a rejection from the Hart Agency in California last night. I'm not mad, I know one of these days I'll find the one person that will give me a serious look and there all things will begin to fall into place. Its not the first rejection but it could be the last. I will send out queries this week for "A listing impressive." Took a nap today so I'm like hanging out right now waiting to see it they are gonna call Rec. I got some Boating magazines. they had some articles about Lake Cherokee TN and some lake in Montana west of the Flathead Range around the western base of Fire Fighter Mountain. It would be interesting to find out what could happen if I bought a cabin or land on either lake. In TN, I'd just buy a nice boat with a cabin on it, no sense in having a house and a boat. Thoughts to thinking: no real serious concerns today. Mail hasn't come through yet, I'm not expecting any but I'd be a nice surprise. Tired of oneness but do not know exactly how to really be open with others. Sometimes I'm just tired of being human. PERIOD!!!! Tired of life

30 March 2007

A most excellent day. Actually went outside the prison and worked as a trustee on the outside yard equipment. Its always nice to be treated like a human. I got a summer cold sinus are all stopped up. Took a nap, had a really screwed up dream. It seems as if my grand daughter was allowed to visit me and I snub the occasion by walking out, then mom and dad came to visit, this was after I got out, and mom was ticked at me. It seems as if she felt I blew my opportunity of redemption with my family. But I had to let her know, there is no such thing as redemption. Redemption is some word that holier than thou hypocrites want people to believe in. The fact it is like love and hope just social illusions. God in neither loving or caring and one only needs to hold up the American people as examples of being created in the image and/or likeness. The only people I have found to ever remotely resemble the Biblical persona of a faithful person are old men who have a lifetime of wrongs on their shoulders. I have to respect them though they walk and talk a good game but they still fail to realize one thing, God the Great I am is a dictator with no regards to his people. The bad people cops politicians, so called minorities who wave the racial flag and heartless criminals reap a bountiful reward. Oh well, I need to quit bitchin'. I am not out to change public opinion. One of these days, when I am able to really help people. There I can snub society. I don't need to be loved or cared about by this people to do those things I feel are right and needed. I was born disfranchised I'll die the same and hopefully I'll at least be able to leave the false concept of hope and God alive in a few hundred people. God doesn't make a man. Man makes God.

Thinking and thoughts: my focus is to see the world as a machine, a robot. To learn to live without showing any type of emotion, to achieve a level of existence dependent and liberated from the human weakness' of emotion, no anger, frustration, loneliness, love, or compassion. To be productive member of society one only needs to function as a machine.

31 March 2007

Rough night sleeping between a headache, heartache and a head cold, but one sad fact is, I will survive, unfortunately. I tossed and turned all night trying to get comfortable so my sinuses would drain. There is the thought, the thinking, the damn dreams that remind me of people and the feelings those memories invoke. My only saving thoughts are, when I get out of prison, I can hide away in the social shadows see how much I can drink and whether I can drink myself beyond the memories and this life. I still contemplate the Elvis Cocktail "Booze and Downers." Crazy to think but ever crazier is the thoughts that life actually does get better.

Still working with Andrew on his writing. Hopefully, I can talk to him into going to college and getting his degree. He has a lot of time to do and he is just starting out. He is learning to convict though and that will help. He sees how hard it is for me to get reestablished in the world of writing. But he listens and takes good advice. He knows his dad and stepmother won't be there forever. He is already seen the futility of his brother and his friends dumped him a long time ago. By the time he has my kind of time under his belt, he'll be more adjusted and better equipt.

I'm sending out three queries for a screenplay tomorrow. I'm also going to send my journals off to P.E. And I think I'll chunk them a couple of poems. I also need to write my essays. As long as I keep active in writing, writing anything, I'll succeed sooner or later.

Thoughts, someone once said "success is the ultimate revenge." I don't want reverse I just want to be the regret in people's memory. Regret is the single worst emotion one can have because regret is knowing you done wrong, knowing how to correct the wrong and unable to turn back time to do it. The kicker to regret is, no one will give you the chance to prove you have learned the harsh lesson.

6.5 hours...

1 April 2007

Woke up way too early with the longing of an ancient relationship. Found myself praying to be delivered of my feelings or for divine intervention. I'm just a sap I guess, can't seem to let go. Spent the morning working on 3 essays, "Celebrations," "Breakdowns," and a self theme of "Lowering the crime rate by undoing ill behavior learned over time." I am currently rewriting the "Celebrations" because I feel I got off track. I drafted a query letter for five different agents but James is acting crazy, so I'll have Rick type them up. Spent part of the day working with Andrew on an 'Essay for Positive News'.

In thoughts, I have to admit my downfalls of personal relationships and the value of celebrating them. I'm like one of the crazy characters Jack Kerouac wrote about. Someday, people will look back and see what kind of crazy life I lived. I don't believe I could feel any lonelier, what I'd give just to have a dog to keep me company.

It's rained all weekend and I now have a fever and head cold. But, it won't last long. I break the eight year count down this month. My time grows even shorter but I don't really care. Life inside or outside the fence is just mortal existence. I know I will succeed, do better and leave a mark for a legacy, but I've no great desire to. It's just my life in passing. Dust in the Wind that will settle soon enough.

3 April 2007

Long day, late turn out for work and the same productivity. Came in after lunch, took a nap, but still tired, so I'm calling it a day.

Tired of thinking, tired of the routine. Helpless in changing the current state of affairs. Zach did talk to me about getting him a job. He got caught with a cigarette. That was the only excuse Nero needed to hang him. Nero has fucked over white boys for less than that. Anyway, Zach and I had a conflict, but I hold no grudges. I told hum to get me an I-60 and I'll get Holland to hook him up. Such is the day Bad Karma on his part has come to good Karma on my part. Today.

4 April 2007

Tuesday's Gone

5 April 2007

This hasn't been a good day. Actually, today was a carry over of yesterday with one exception. I chose not to play games or let people play games with me. Yesterday, the crew was on a "blade bense" meaning, they were deliberately bending the blades. Today, I didn't feel like playing so Dorton and I faced off early and that settled things for the rest of the day. A lot of crap started yesterday and carried over to today. At Kairos last night, I unnerved the group by forcing a conversation on a topic that scares the hell out of most everyone. The question is simple "Where in biblical writings does it say we have a purpose? And to add, why is it, after giving faith an ample amount of time, the scriptural guarantees remain empty unanswered? I refuse to develop a religious base on hollow claims. Man exist, we are at best, a civilized animal socially that maintains a beastly instinct of civilized destruction, man is the only animal that goes out of its way to destroy all that are like him or her. I don't believe in coincidence or redemption. I do believe there is a God but I believe that God has very little use for the greater majority of mankind, if he has any use for any at all. In this, I recall the words of song by Five for a Fight "I wish that I could cry, fall upon my knees, Pray for a home I'll never see." I have cried, I have fallen upon my knees and the sad reality is, that home doesn't exist.

6 April 2007

Busy day, it started raining today got about four inches. Now it's cold or should I say cool, in the low fifties. But, it's expected, Holland didn't show, didn't expect him too. We cut the court yards. There the dorms. I would think that men in prison would grow up. But I'm constantly reminded how immature and stupid they are. A wise convict once said "an ignorant man can be educated but a stupid man is beyond help." This seems to be the norm especially around blacks/ I don't see myself as a racist or bigot, and perhaps I'm not simply because I believe many of stupid individuals should have been convicted with their mothers. But, I resolve to one fact, if their moments were worth a damn, they'd taught them better. This applies as much to me as them. Only difference is my folks don't pamper me because the white man "F"d them over. As far as I can see, prison is the daycare for the African American culture that refuses to make their little boys grow-up. Thoughts: I spect I said enough.

7 April 2007

It's cool, no work today. Good Friday. Here on the eve of some Holy Day which is Holy Crap as far as it applies to Christians since Christians endorse prisons. This makes it pretty clear cut, a person is known by their actions. Christians endorse prisons so they must be hypocrites since they don't believe in forgiveness or redemption. But then, the most articulate fact Jesus pinned in His short time here is "human hypocrisy." The general public is in short sheep, ignorant of all reality bound up in the borders of their own little social folds unable to discern the wolf from the sheep dog. If there is any consultation in my thoughts, I find it in one fact shared by the Myran's Nostradamus, Jesus and every DeVinci, this world is soon to fall into catastrophe and the realignment of social circles and cultures will force human evolution to a point of greater maturity. As for man, we are a species of professional destruction, unable to successfully create a future because we fail to understand the power of individual histories in their influence on society as a whole. Lessons taught wrong are educations for the future. To change the poor fabric of the past to be useful in the future we must recognize what is making the fabric poor quality and improve the threads of that error.

8 April 2007

Cold day, hard to sleep no heaters and the fresh air blowers were on high. Even with long johns, socks and regular clothes, sleep seemed impossible. We were suppose to finish the V-ball tournament but it is wet and as I said, cold. Stayed in and watched Mr. Holland's Opus which is a pretty good movie. Washed my extra set of long johns and sheets. Finished the final draft of "Celebrations" to send to P.E. Miers came over and discussed book marketing for the Anthology. He complied to donate money to St. Jude's Hospital. That is a spin off project from the writer's group I'm not evolved my story was too long, twenty three pages, and he was only allowing twenty pages. I'm not mad, I'll get the Fences Trilogy published one of these days. Everything on this Easter weekend in pretty routine but then, Easter is much like or should I say the perfect example of, American Religion and all of its people. If Jesus were alive, He'd be in a Texas death row cell convicted by the Baptists themselves. Anyway, on to better things. I'll kick off tomorrow with the final draft of 'Breakdowns" for P.E. and then start the "Courage" essay. I also want to get an article done for the mental health issue and write an article on the Kiaros program for "Positive News."

Thoughts for closing this week out I give the secret to my own sanity. Every night, I cover my head with a blanket and see the world as a really dark place without light. The truth found under a blanket is, the world with all its demands really doesn't exist. We only have a world because we perceive we belong. I no longer belong so I see the dark truth, all is vanity. It is in this place that I am able to confront the Creator and thus proclaim "this is my space in which you can not change." For the religious folks, I am able to be a witness that God really doesn't answer prayers, He doesn't care and, as I have noticed, the so-called evil of the world enjoy the bounty of earth much more that those like myself who cling to this sacred ideology of a Supreme Being. Well, it's a Saturday, I'm out of here.

15 April 2007

Long day with little going on. I ran the NASCAR Board, watched the race. It was a good race in Ft Worth. Burton won after passing Kenseith on the last curve. I waited for Rick to send over the cookies from Kiaros, but from what I saw, the stewards were too busy steeling everything, never mind setting a good Christian example. The events that surround this Christian event fully expose my point of view toward God, Jesus, and the Christian Community as a whole. Not to mention the single greatest fact the evil of the world receive the greater blessings and rewards which means God doesn't protect or provide in accordance to His biblical writings. It never fails, when you meet people who are actually trying to show God is not biased to evil. The evil successfully destroy them.

When I really ponder my own perspectives, I worry that I am too judgmental. The longer I live, the less I believe in human kind and society with its multiple facets. Stopped long enough today to write a poem.

The Family's Around 
	Red benches, table, green grass, the front lawn 
	Twixt house, garden, an orchard to one side 
	Rockwalks, living pools, natural fountain 
	Enjoying security This King's lawn 
	Tranquil my mind, its memories fountain 
		Reminiscent to times shared on the lawn 
		Good times with my beloved by my side 
   The day's golden sun setting on the lawn 
	Now the Virtue of life is hid inside 
	Time flows O'r the stones I am the fountain 

So it isn't a pro it's just rambling about a place while trying to keep it into some kind of organized form.

Thoughts: I think the poem says it all. It's all memories.

17 April 2007

Been a sleepy day. Went to the Kiaro's Prayer and Share and said my piece 'About the Thieves on The Walk.' Sat with Rick and Trey, we kicked around a movie idea, a serious comedy about three old international spies. No work today or tomorrow since the field bosses are doing escort for Ad Seg State Classification Committee. Nothing else going on. The dorm sounds like some ghetto but you can't take the ghettos out of the chumps, it's a free choice circumstance which allows room for personal excuses for failure. Well, I'm out of here.

18 April 2007

You know there is just so many wrongs in this world that a person could make a stand against. Does anyone ever really know if they are born with a purpose? And if we do have a purpose, how do we recognize it as our event. If the answers to life's problems were as easy to recognize as the problems themselves. Today I took on the issue of free speech. The warden put up a new "no talking rule." I had research done in regards to the 1st Amendment "Free Speech" which is supposed to be guaranteed to all. In here, the words of a friend or close associate can change your whole mind set for that moment and that day. When I confronted an officer about our right to free speech which is the attempted "informal resolution" required by the grievance procedure, the officer took my ID card and wrote a discipline case because I was talking to him on the sidewalk. So tonight I'm writing the grievance and since the case has been written, I hate too, but I can only see this leading into a civil court.

I was called out for work today at eleven. We made a trash run. Then I came in and got a hair cut before taking a shower. Evening chow is when I had the confrontation with the Boss man. Oh well, nothing is fair behind the wall, you just live by the wind. Took Suzy's picture out of my ID holder today. I guess it's time to let go. I'm hungry. It seems like I stay hungry all the time these days.

19 April 2007

This has been a good day. Work went well. I got some maintenance done and one more lawnmower up; that's seventeen mowers, a big advance from the five I started with three years ago. It's really hard to believe what all has transpired in the last few years. After chow and work, Seguero stopped me. He told me he didn't write the disciplinary case and we discussed the confrontation. Anyway, a nap, a little recreation. No mail again, oh well.

20 April 2007

Days like today are the nuggets of life. It just seems like things work against me only to work to make me look better. After we did the Vista... Cut, Holland got us fed twice BBQ ribs which was cool. After lunch, we took the signs off the fence on the Rec yards. The hammer slipped, I got a gouge in my check. Good news from Trey, Chaplain Bell is agreeable to let me and Trey start the writing clinic up. That is Great. I can actually get back into the social scene of mentoring and helping others explore their lives and creativity. It's late, I put the NASCAR board out, sold all the slots so I'll run the game board tomorrow night. Now I'm gonna go crash.

21 April 2007

It's been a slow but fast day. I put the NASCAR board together but had to cancel it because the TV station went on the blank. I paid all back. Sat down and wrote up the synopsis for the writing group. Talked to Jamesm he was delighted that I am getting the class started, but worried if he will be a part. I had to particularly order him not to write a snobbish letter to the Arch Diocese in Bewmont because they declined to help him. He is an okay guy, but tends to be narrow minded at times. Read some of Trey's portfolio. He has a couple of descent stories, I'm surprised. Now it's bed time. I started to write a short story "Of Kings and Vagabonds" I even wrote a poem. Here it is:

"The King of Vagabonds" 
	The Wise King walks with Vagabonds 
	Seeking life's purest knowledge true 
	Finds virtue in the Native's sons 
		From castle dark to tavern's hue 
		Gather they to weather seasons 
		Classes fail in sauge bonds 
	With dissertation to reasons 
	The King sits with the vagabonds 
	Disguised, he and they share life's due 
		The king became like the vagabonds 
		His throne established all that's true 
		Blessing both land and native sons 

And so, I'll close. It is time to seek a lover in fantasy undercover with imaginative emotion.

22 April 2007

: Day started out slow/quiet. Folded up the mattress with plans to write most of the day. I washed my long johns, hopefully the last time till the fall. Had to have a confrontation with J. Miers over the pens for class. It did not go well but then what can I expect, he is the reason we don't have the class anymore. T jumped me out at evening chow because Miers had approached him fishing for information on my attempts. So I decided to cut the threads. I may lose a screenplay but I don't have to put up with his crap anymore. After the confrontation T and I spoke about the class. He spoke to Bill W. to be a peer educator which is a good move. Bill is an astounding poet and writer. We also talked about putting together an anthology and market it just to get the experience and to get an example for others. I never thought I'd hate second hand smoke. Now, I know why so many people complain. Cigarette smoke really does stink. Wrote the essay 'We're All in This Together." I will rewrite it Monday and mail it off. I need to write mom and dad, Marsha and Michelle. I need to write some more stories. How wonderful it would be just to get a story or two published, I could use the money real bad to get re-established with a typewriter and ribbons. Well, so much for wishful thinking. But there is always hope.

23 April 2007

Busy day. Holland had visitation this past weekend so we were stuck with Summers. To make matters worse, Holland told Summers to let me call the work schedule, not that I mind, but inmates are inmates with inferiority complexes. Anyway, we are ahead of the cut schedule. We came across a Bob White quail that has gotten into the unit fencing. I chased it out and got it free. It brought to mind a time when I had my own pet quails, a pair I got for my birthday. It is funny how much we learn from such gifts. It made me feel good to set it free. It was such a beautiful bird, I'm guessing it was last year's hatchling and a female. So that means she'll lay and hatch about 30 to 50 this year. It makes me wish I could have sanctuary, just for wild critters. Maybe one of these days, I'll be able to build Quietus. Had a good hard nap after work. I ended up running weed eater most of the morning. It's supposed to rain tomorrow, hopefully I can get some maintenance in.

24 April 2007

Where to begin? Not real sure it's just been another day. Peters started on our crew today so the crew is starting to look pretty good. We moved everything on the inside, we are caught up tomorrow is supposed to be a maintenance day and it is supposed to rain. Kiaros was quiet tonight. I've been getting more and more in the urges to pray and try the holy rollers game. I probably would if I knew it would change things. I can't, well actually I can think of some things that would make me happy enough to actually believe in God if they were to happen. But it is just too hard to keep trying to dance with old ghost. Better to defy the urge and not be a victim of my own mind and weakness. If God were real, I would need to pray and the answers to my prayers would always be answered. I don't know. My single greatest flaw is I believe. It doesn't matter if God fulfills His promises I still believe and I refuse to not believe. What a dilemma, to believe, pray and be frustrated or believe and just ignore this spiritual desire which at times is as strong as the desire for those things I love or should I say people. I miss my only friend and I miss my kids. Time to shut up. Too much time dwelling or dreams is time lost in a waking nightmare.

25 April 2007

Long day. No work. Rained all afternoon, slept most of the day. Working on a deal to pay for a typewriter. I went and picked up the typewriter now I just gotta hustle up the twenty bucks.

26 April 2007

Good day. Pulled maintenance this morning. Everything seems to be working up to snuff. I got a taste of broiled deer roast and some ribs. That was a change in meals. Took a nice nap this afternoon. In writing I am pondering the potential opportunity of helping single mothers and have decided that I will focus on that venture for one specific reason, to prove I can be a productive member, but I must always remember people, especially woman, only care as long as they have a need. So it is best to keep this in mind, give them what they need and keep a good distance from them. I would almost contemplate alternative lifestyles but the fact is, the majority of all people are much like women, it's a "necessity" issue. Life is always the "hunting and gathering" of personal necessities.

Started reading "The Twelfth Planet" by Zacharia Sitchin. I am apt to agree with the "sending" theory of earth by an advanced race of beings from another planet. The fact is, any intelligent life form of another planet which chooses to not make contact with us is extremely intelligent.

27 April 2007

Violence off the bat. A good fist fight after breakfast, I guess that rivals Napalon over breakfast. It didn't last long, the guard on duty broke it up early before any serious injuries. Good day at work, no whining, no hostilities. Had a good nap until the ghetto trash decided everyone needed to listen to his radio and its crap rap. Whoever said it was art has a poor sense of judgment and no knowledge of the people. I try to be temperamental and understanding, ignorance I can tolerate but stupidity is inexcusable. Oh well, I just need to maintain. Andrew has offered 16 to help pay for my typewriter and TJ has offered 5 so that covers the cost of the machine. Now I only need to hustle up the cost of ribbons 3.50 each and they aer only good for about twenty pages. It's late guess I'll crash.

28 April 2007

Long day, day started with loud radios and rap-crap. Confronted Sgt Bailey about our noon rec. She claims it's supposed to be reinstated Monday. It doesn't matter I'm still gonna write a grievance. Spent most of the day researching the law. They had an evening out for recreatory which isn't as exhausting as the midday. Got a letter from a Zoe Sandug from Inside Journal in response to a letter I wrote to the editor that they won't publish because I am pro-choice on the suicide issue. Suicide is a personal choice that others should have no say in at all and it should be legal. I know from experience. Had people not lied to me about the future I'd never had to learn the fact that hope itself is an illusion. The truth of the matter is, a person should be able to weigh the future according to the facts of their life. Those facts generally narrate a person's fortune. Went out to rec tonight for exercise. Didn't do a whole lot, spent most of the time walking and talking to Trey. We're still in search of at least two more peer educators for the writer's group. Not much else going on. The act of maintaining is a constant war.

31 April 2007

A good work day, very productive. We cut all of B-side and I got Choate's lawn mower completely bug free. Now Pete's mower is acting stupid. Went out and strolled around with Todd this evening. It appears he had a confrontation but everyone quickly smoothed out the wrinkles. It is a reminder of the place we are in. Went to bed early. Read some of the "The 12th Planet" which seems to outline some of my own thoughts on spiritual matters.

1 May 2007

Long day, turned out for work then they turned us back in only to be called out later to go pick up trash. Still trying to sweat out this summer cold. The grievance captain came by and picked up my last grievance I filed so they could make copies of it. The day was quite uneventful. I went to Kiaros just as a habit. Came home and went to sleep.

2 May 2007

Busy day. At work we cut the inner courtyard's four building and the dorms. We made two trash runs and actually took a good half hour siesta out in the shed. Holland went to store and actually bought some new tools, needle nose pliers and regular pliers. The best thing, they work. Had a good afternoon nap. And I actually got a letter today with pictures from Marsha. Made a deal on a box of soap for six bucks and that'll pane out to a twenty dollar venture. Starting collecting bets for NASCAR. Then I went to bed.

3 May 2007

Started off the day with rain, rained all day. I slept almost the entire day. And I even went to bed early. I contribute my lack of motivation as simple fatigue. Tired of life, tired of reality, tired of the endless game of society we call civility.

4 May 2007

Started to work, but they called the field bosses into work the buildings. Made a trash run, nothing to cash in on. Old Goat wants some lawn mower blades 18' which I don't have, since they shut down noon rec things have slowed down. I got eleven bucks paid on my typewriter. I'm not too smart since I can't even afford to buy ribbons, but if a couple of six for a hundred deals come my way, I'll take care of that problem. Caught up with Jones who actually got the box of soap, so that'll be a deal done tomorrow.

5 May 2007

Long day. Cinco de Mayo, or that's what it is supposed to be. You really can't tell. If it is a black holiday the kitchen and officers go all out but a Hispanic or American holiday is rejected, it is just another side to the double standard rule of racism. Everyone is racist except the blacks. I'm not racist but I am a free thinking man with common sense and low tolerance to naturally stupid individuals. Talked a little to Rick, asked him to bring my letter back so I can type them up myself. Somehow. The first and most profound fact in business is, no one gives damn about your success, they just want to ride in the wagon after you hook up the horse. Filled the NASCAR board so we will have a racing pot this week. That's it.

13 May 2007

Got up a little early. Secured a TV for the race since NASCAR got rained out last night. I didn't hit. One of my first times, betters whined about cheating so I won't be letting him play anymore. Pondered the flying car idea a little more. I have some fairly good ideas but they are just theory until I can actually test them out. Read a little from "The Twelfth Planet." It was a part astrology and how the astrological map and divinations were more exact before the Greeks. Then I jammed out the local ghetto station so I could get some sleep. They'll never understand, if I can't hear it, I can't jam it out. It's mothers day and I didn't even write mom. Maybe Monday. I'm not in much of a sociable mood here lately. Someday, I'll get out and hopefully I can have a little land somewhere to myself where I "tend to my garden." No matter how famous or infamous my name shall be, every man should have his own little kingdom with fortress walls.

14 May 2007

This has been an insane day. The day started bad and remained consistent. Didn't turn out for work until after eight o'clock. Even though we started late, we still knocked out our regular cut. Had a decent afternoon nap. Dreamed I was being guided through a big city without people. It was the city of desire, where you could do anything that you wanted to do without fear of any consequences. There were twelve to fourteen of us. The two lack kids fulfilled their desire with criminal acts such as bumping off a newspaper vending machine. That was when I happened to be walking around a trash truck and the trash man asked me "What will really make you happy?" What is your heart's desire?" Before I could answer, the two blacks were happily creating havoc. Got my answer from the Missouri Review last night. It was a rejection. And on top of all the bad I had to get into a confrontation with Hicks the snitch. I really wanted to beat him up, but he is already gone and told the police on me. Anyway, nothing else to really say. I pondered the questions presented to me.

15 May 2007

Had one of the questions partially answered. I dreamed of a special woman, Suzy, and I getting back together and entering the cold river of life together. Ah sweet some dreams, but still just fantasies. Good day at work. Zach broke down twice and I got Choate's mower out to Kiaros. Did quite a bit of pondering. I am quite sure that if man never had nay hardships, he'd have no need for a God, therefore it appears that God or gods are only beneficial in times of trouble which could actually be the basis for the true character of any and all gods. When I think of reasons to believe, I can only truly speak of one reason, that reason is personal. I hope there is some kind of supernatural control and purpose to this madness. However, if I look at the facts, the past sixteen years clearly proves that there is no God, period. My statement comes from a persistent daily experience. In as much, I say there is no God but as well, those who are of no divine use to the destiny of all man are effect, because there is only a few divine use. There could be a god, but to what good is it?

16 May 2007

Busy day, got some maintenance done so I am finally ahead. I should get Summer's lawn mowers out of my hair completely Friday, which makes more room for other things. Woo-hoo! Took a good nap after evening chow. I got some rec time in. Read a little then called it a day.

17 May 2007

Started the day with one question. What have I truly discovered or received over my life pertaining to all things of God? If I write a story it would be a tragedy. I can witness to one fact, God helps no one. In the beginning, I sought to find that true bright path. I followed divine instructions even to the fight their war/wars. I joined the military once ready to serve my country, but we cowered down to Iran. Had we acted back then, there would never have been a 9/11 nor would there be an Iraqi conflict now. I found out Mr. C's son got his leg blown off in Iraq and the other leg is broke in three different places. The worst thing that is done is to teach a person to be something that he is either no supposed to be or can't be. But then, I am trying to be a writer when be all omens I am not to be.

19 May 2007

Long boring day. No sense in writing nothing within me is worth reading.

8 June 2007

I have chosen to work on the journal in a different way. I've never been one to dwell on routine and that is about all prison life is. The only exceptions to this are in the more private areas of one's life: thoughts, relationships and the wonderful world of fantasy.

I chose not to write any in my journal on my birthday in hopes of just forgetting that day all together. How funny, the day didn't go unnoticed. I have quit trying to make a mends with the people I victimized. A person can only apologize, cry and repent so much before the actions become futile attempts to resurrect false hopes. Mom's letter once again, like David O'Leary's letter could do nothing but condemn and criticize. Easy words spoken by two of the masses who in their Christian identity have no understanding in the deeper aspects of human affairs. What can be said? Humans are creatures of habit easily manipulated by public opinion and affairs. Rehabilitation, restoration and social salvation is not attainable.

If there exist any who despise me for the crimes I have committed, even the harshest of critics cannot condemn me as much as I condemn myself. I did not chose this life. I had no choice in conception nor did I have a choice upon my birth. This is the first question I pose to the so-called God of this world whose claim is, He knows us all from before our conception. If my future was to be a failure and a monster then why allow me to live? What kind of God would allow such events to unfold, knowing that all people would suffer?

Oh well, I digress. I didn't dream or plan to become an abusive father. Even now I try to unlock Pandora's box within my mind, to examine the archives of dark days I have so successfully suppressed that it seems as if I was never born, I just showed up at age 6 or 7 for a few days then vanished until I was about 9. Where did I acquire the instincts to cross the taboo lines of family interaction? Some things I remember but I refuse to blame others for their actions just to justify myself. Besides, who really gives a damn.

Well this place in its routine doesn't address the complex issues of self improvement. If I chose to lay about my bunk butt-ass naked and masturbate on the female officers I would be rewarded. If I chose to smoke cigarettes or dope, I would be rewarded. If I turned to the homosexual lifestyle, my life of oppression would cease to be oppression at all. Even at this point I am very honest about breaking all desires to interact with anyone. Surely I would find more loyalty with a dog than with any woman. I have loved a whore and I have loved the virtuous maiden only to find that both have only one desire, to find a man that will pay their way. So, as I speak I try to build a wall that will protect me from all woman. I'm not a monster.

My mother, like David O'Leary says I need to apologize to all those I hurt. I have. Now I must apologize to society for failing as a man. In self-hate I tried many things to destroy the monster within me. I knew not what influence it was that controlled me but I failed. Drugs could not tame the monster. Alcohol could not tame the monster. And after I committed my crimes against those I loved the most. Self-hate motivated a desire to self-destruct. The truth will set you free. When I confessed to the law, I felt ashamed but relieved because I could finally seek help. But I had only committed crimes against two people, the law chose to pursue criminal action on four. To remain passive with resolve to rid myself of the monster I would be doubly punished. I was a coward. I should have just accepted the false charges with the real crimes. Somehow I had hopes of straitening out all the facts and securing more justice. There is no true justice, only hateful people with a desire to destroy. Well I should just shut up. After all who gives a damn? I violated the trust and love of my daughter and wife as well as a niece. As much as I would like to undo all the evil I caused, I'm stuck with only one path. To say I'm sorry, to apologize to and prove how sorry I am for doing such things. But the world is unforgiving and ever-ready to recreate the monster rather than to help serperate the man from the monster. I guess it is just important to forgive myself but to do that seems like a cowardly act. So--I apologize.

One day, on a bridge, I will show the world my remorse. Among the only friends I have left--Jack Daniels, Captain Morgan and Jim Beam. Perhaps a kiss with Smith and Wessen or better yet, a cocktail of sleeping pills. Who knows, who cares.

Well another week has passed and most of my thoughts have been one-sided and selfish. I am thinking perhaps maybe I should give up on writing all together.

10 June 2007

Not much going on. It is hot. No plans for today.

11 June 2007

It has lived up to what Mondays are known for: chaos and calamity. Seems as if every lawn mower went on strike right off the bat. Not much else is going on. It has been hot and to add to it all, it's been raining right in the middle of the day to add to the humidity. Not much else going on. I sat down and prayed--half ass-- not one to get to expectant, just hoping one wishful thinking or is it wishful thinking conjuring up hope? James brought over part of my screenplay. I think I am going to put together a list of to-do's before I die. The first to become a totally successful father, to be the man I was born to be. I see it possible if I am to find the right woman. My greatest secret and shame has been exposed, I no longer must fear what monster had rule over me for so long. So--No. 1 to die as the perfect father with a large family.

12 June 2007

Good day, got a little maintenance in. So far the work week is being productive. No mail so far. I'm not expecting any.

13 June 2007

Hump day. Work is going smooth. I want to focus more on positive attributes and issues. My No. 2 goal in life is to become a truly righteous man, according to the Scriptures, Holy Text and teachings of religions on divine levels. Gandhi said "Be the change you want to see in the world." I can not change mankind's perception of my past but I believe I can change their perceptions of me in my time on this earth. I do not see this trilogy of generations conquering the dimension of understanding of a greater society. Society as a general rule is regressive, it is only when a few great individuals rise to the occasion of influence. A wise Indian elder once stated "The hardest ice to melt is in the heart of man." This is very true. So--I move on.

14 June 2007

Good day, they tried to work me today but I didn't let them. Started raining early, good I got some much needed rest. No mail!

15 June 2007

Well, I tried to teach Lobo Swazi and Shawn a little bit in lawn mower repair. I am always amazed at how limited the mental resources are among the prison population. I finally got the air cleared between Old Goat and myself. He denied snitching to Nero on me but admitted he premeditated the traitor's act of doing business with Nero, although he told me he wouldn't. If this was how the Jews did Hitler, I can understand Hitler's rage. Old Goat admitted, it is customary to play both ends against each other for profit. So be it. He is on his own from now on. No mail today. I pondered what it would be like to be able to spend a hundred to a hundred fifty a month in here. I could start sleeping in till time for work. I could work out my clothing. There I'd be more rested rather than exhausted. Oh well, someday I'll sell my books or a screenplay or two.

16 June 2007

No. 3 on my to do list: Find a mystical corridor. Today is lax, nothing going on. Watched a little TV. Slept a little. Not too motivated, trying to work that out. Picked up the book "Positive Energy" and decided to read it. Gave Ice his birthday whooping.

23 June 2007

Well, all my enemies have vanished. Not to be surprised, shit happens! An intriguing question remains: how many people have I nailed to a cross in personal condemnation this day? The question came as a result of inward meditation, pondering the single greatest failure of the modern church. Every church preaches forgiveness and restoration but none have a clue as to how to achieve forgiveness or restoration. There is not one ill known or caused by mankind that cannot be healed or resolved. Unfortunately, society carries a good supply of nails and a hammer with them. Hopefully I will be able to attain a spiritual level that is above the norm. To not judge anyone, seek forgiveness for all and self and restore life to the socially dead.

That's a grand creed for a convicted felon. The week went by hot, busy and chaotic. In words of magma I began to pour the foundation to a new beginning. That beginning will be the portal of my future. Not much else going on. Read the updated version of PEN American Centers Writer's Manual. I found it enlightening on new information regarding screenplays. I began the rewrite of B.O.I today. There is literally dozens of changes in the format from what I am used to. But, I will persevere to endure. Isn't that the best that anyone can do? Temperance or tolerance to other people seems to be my single greatest weakness. It is just plain hard to put up with stupidity and prison is a place with an abundance of that flaw

My goal is to get no less than six screenplays on the market this year. This should open the door of opportunity for a potential income of about one half to three million dollars. Not bad for an inmate. The money would have to be tied up in non-charity business venue so the state won't try to steal it for so-called room and board. If this issue happens, I will simply give the money to a charity. I guarantee, Texas will never get a dime of it. It is one thing to be placed in forced slavery in a country who supposedly opposed slave labor and sweat shops. But then, what Americans don't know they can't be held responsible. This is the excuse of all Americans and mankind himself.

Well, I'm a sinner. I'm a saint. I'm a successful failure and a successful success. I am better than all American society because I know I am simply human. Let the good times roll and bring on a revolution

24 June 2007

Pretty good day. Got about six pages on a screenplay written in what is supposed to be the proper format, although I don't recall scripts looking like that from Sarah Lawrence. Perhaps it's the difference between east coast and west coast styles. Who knows. Either way, B.D.I is looking pretty impressive so far if I do say so myself. Turned the order in for a bit of soap this week. That will go down Thursday. Not much else going on today. Quiet day, did some meditating and actually felt pretty good. Had a hard time going to sleep.

25 June 2007

Leav. Mac is busily screwing things up. He had us do the visitation cut. Or should I say we started. It started raining at about right and doesn't look like it's going to stop anytime soon. Did a little writing. Started essay for P.E that I've been pondering, it's a touchy subject.

26 June 2007

Bossman is off the rest of the week. We had to finish visitation cut which now looks like crap because of all the rain yesterday. It has been a hot frustrating day, Wednesday 6-27: It never ceases to amaze me, just when you think it can't get any worse, it does. Work was a bit more lax today. We knocked out the baseball field and most of B side perimeter except for the strip. Slept most of the afternoon and just chilled out.

Thursday 6-28: Day started out smooth. Actually had time to think. It is funny. We spend all our time thinking but seldom do we think about what it is we are thinking. For example, if I consider the concept of time, I resolve it to be a fabulous entity that serves the taskmaster. We find it hard to believe a supernatural power yet, time, a man made concept founded by the same supernatural power. What was devised to help organize and create ease now overpowers and controls. Who are we to sweat time. How be it what is time that we should be bothered by it. We are given a shadow of its breath to live and that short time we are given, we sacrifice to vain activities we think makes us or will make us happy. We create those things that steal time from us in which causes us to lose even more time. Time spent doing instead of enjoying. I once had a chance to build a sand castle with my son. I could have swam in the Atlantic with my daughter. I could have walked the beach at night, made love to my wife then watched the sun rise. Three priceless moments sacrificed just to be a part of society, to go with the flow. A fool I was but never again. Time is not a god and it should never be given the rule of life. People can wait when it comes to savoring golden moments.

29 June 2007

Short wet day. Started out decent enough but didn't last long. The important thin is, it's over. I recall my youth where I looked forward to the weekend; it was the hope of opportunity and adventure in waiting. Unfortunately, what the young expect out of life is often dashed upon the rocks of reality by our parents who choose to relax around the house, watch TV and catch up on much needed maintenance. Perhaps the most memorable adventures o of my youth was a trip to DHDHD DHDH. Between the caverns, the zoo and just spending a night in the motel, life seemed to offer a world worth of exploring. How quickly things are lost in the face of social survival. Jones caught up to me to pawn off a box of bleach. It was a good del so I brokered it off to someone who does a lot of laundry. He sold enough to recoup his expense and is now enjoying the profits. My profit, I'm a convict when I need to eat, I know where the food is. Saturday 6-30: Slow start today but I did finish the essay for P.E. Woke up, gathered all my clothes and washed everything. Do my house is bleach stinking clean. I can actually smell the bleach over the dope and cigarette smoke. It rained most of the day, too wet to go out for rec. Didn't do much of anything. Read some of the book Positive Energy Psychiatry, which is interesting. Took a nap. Last event of the evening was watching the end of Cast Away where Tom Hanks and Helen Hunt come together. It is so prevalent even in the movies, women will only side with a man until she finds some other fool to give her what she wants. I am beginning to conclude that women truly have no concept of real love. Their concept of love is, I'm gonna fuck you as long as you have something I need but the first dick on the highway I find that has something I want, I'm gone. It's a crude conclusion but every woman I've known from my mother to my daughter seem to give evidence through action to it. Even Suzy whom I believed to be different, wasn't. Oh well, get a dog, buy a blow up doll and watch the starter wife and I suspect that is about as good as life can get. Few women can get better than Debra Messing. Unfortunately, she is a woman like all women.

I did have one good revelation, or perhaps just a reminder. I have less than ten years left on my debt to society. Parole is nothing now; it would be of no benefit to me even if they decided to give it to me.

1 - 7 July 2007

This is the single entry for the entire week. Once again I have misplaced about three days of a journal, but what the heck--it must've not been important. I'm a firm believer that the more important words are the only words people hear or read anyway. I'm not real sure that the journaling is that important anyway. After all, what can be shared from this point of view? Religion is the same in here as it is in the world. Something people pretend to be involved in. Faithfulness to a superior being is not something people in general really practice. After all, God is only a problem where we face death. Its only in death of self that people who are selfish to begin with, begin to worry about. We spend our entire life building up this godly illusion while hoping it is just that, an illusion. Is it? Maybe? Maybe not? Death is only a door into another dimension of existence. A dimension that we can see with our mind's eye if we concentrate in meditation.

The plane of Shambala, you fly toward the horizon beyond the drifting clouds to a rising sun. The spirit, no longer shackled by the physical body is free to experience the world without natural laws. Everything of this world slows to a crawl in contrast to the free spirit. In meditation, I travel the planes of total freedom, able to see those of this world as they are, the mediocre existence that keeps them pursuing material things.

Hold me closer tiny dancer. Count the headlights on the highway! Ah--the beauty of perfect love, the innocence of some unique individual that made rhymes and harmony burst from the mouth of a fool.

Returning to the free world. The energy of total positivity. The two sides of energy positive or negative. To produce energy is to absorb the vibes that surround us. TO create the positive we need only separates the good from the bad. I often seem bitter in the field of love, but this is only because I've not found that positive spark of pure white energy. It could very well be that Suzy wasn't the positive power to which would have held strong in a more trying time. Women, like men, can be anchors in a storm, a beacon to the safe harbor and the balm of health. Men have these capabilities, we are just raised with an 'intergenerational imprint.' Hello, I've got this hundred dollar word from Judith Orloff, which I have to admit, is pretty darn smart. I can appreciate that. Intelligent women have an ability to seek the lessons of every situation rather than taking offense. And hightailing it to safer ground.

Back to the plane of freedom. This vast universal plane of open ended anticipation is the next step. We anticipate death too deliver us into the hands of Satan and hell or into the arms of God. While we believe in both, we to often hold man responsible for those things Satan has effectively put into existence. Take for example the "intergenerational imprint." A man and woman raise children. Some raise them in an acceptable manner, other's don't, and none are raised in the right way. Anyone who believes they have achieved the right way, kids himself. All humans are programmed. Every social ill is programmed in by existential influences, family, friends, class, education, religion, politics, etc, etc. Blacks are raised to seek excuses for failing rather than being held accountable for their lack of motivation. Williams is a good example. A black man raised in a middle income Christian household attended good schools and even found himself being offered a scholarship to Rice University. What did he do? His junior prom, he, a friend and two girls decided to go partying. To get money, Williams decided to go rob his uncle's store. In the robbery, his uncle was killed. He was sentenced to death row but got his death penalty overturned because there were no black jurors on the jury. How could a jury of white people understand the mind of a deprived black youth denied equal opportunities. This true story is a perfect example of programming and how we as a society continue to allow "intergenerational imprinting" to program us. True, William's father refused to make excuses and for this, he excelled in an equal opportunity world of hard work and perseverance.

I make no excuses for my actions. I wished I could turn back time and change the events. I can't. All I can do is dissect the events, try to disclose what and why and reprogram myself so I won't make the same offenses ever again. This I can do. To those I hurt with my crimes and offenses, I sincerely apologize. If there existed some magic way to repair the damage I would strive to learn it and do it. But sorry is the only word that can be said and it isn't sufficient to make an honorably appreciative sincere amends.

How be it, in the spiritual realm, it makes no difference who on this material world forgives or condemns, because that one superior being, the great positive energy, sees beyond the mere words and actions to note penitence and chance. I have seen the light. I do not fear death but rather invite it daily to come upon me. For where mankind fails and continually pays the price, the sincere heart can move into the light. Many murders, rapists, pedophiles and thieves will enter the light, even before those to whom the offense was committed against.

Well, this week's actions were great. I soared like an eagle in the plane of freedom. The oceans, forest, streams and meadows never looked more beautiful. May all men and woman find the key to that gate that enters the plane of freedom.

8 July 2007

S-S-D-D, the one thing consistent about prison is its consistent nothingness. Enjoying my new radio. I can't wait to hustle up a set of stereo based headphones. Writing is going good. I got a good start on "The Fourth Reich" and BDI is coming together nicely. Both are war based projects, although BDI being a screenplay won't take as long to complete.

I've been pondering the castle, my little single mother's project should I ever get discovered and out in the world. I should look to built it much like Arthur did Camelot, a place of fairy tale fantasy. It could be built with apartments into the wall, the bulk of recreational activities, playground tennis courts etc would be on the inner courtyard. The castle itself could be a special reunion or ballroom type place. Perhaps for the weddings of any success stories.

9 July 2007

Busy ass day. Lt. Mac wants everything now. Too hot to really try to do anything.

19 July 2007

Worked our butts off, came in soaking wet from sweat. No sense in trying to sleep although I did pass out from heat exhaustion. Drank water like crazy and still kept getting Charlie horses in my leg. Our Kiaros meeting seemed productive. Since finding a way to achieve the plane of freedom, my spiritual advancement seems eminently more fulfilling. I am beginning to see where human interaction and this materialistic world is really blinding us to a better world. As I struggle to succeed on a materialistic level with my writing, I find that success is really not important. Success, like wealth is just self exhalation in the public eye and the public opinion really isn't that important. The public is swayed by snake oil salesmen and carpetbaggers.

11 July 2007

Today was actually enjoyable. No lawn mowers broke down. Trey started on our crew yesterday along with Nowell and Gee. That gives us 13 pushers and they look so damn good out on the run. I did end up working on a couple of weed eaters. I know it was gonna be a good day when I turned on the radio and heard Frampton playing. Days when some of the better musicians are tapping into the airwaves just roll without any problems. After Frampton, ELD came out with 'Sweet Talkin' Woman' which really took me into a time warp back to '78 when I was living in a garden shed in Arkansas working on my house and writing my second book. What a memoir of activity. Days spent building a log mansion--I never got to finish it--I went and joined the army. The novel, well it got trashed while I was in the army. I think that was a pivotal point in my life. I got drunk, I fucked up but I don't think the army was the answer. That was just an out, a way to get away from the constant nagging while hopefully doing something that my folks might actually approve of but, I don't think that was ever really possible. It started out right. Perhaps, if Reagan hadn't cowed down to the Iranians, we would have gone to Iran and actually rose to the point of honor. The Iran crap really busted my military illusion. I can not in any sense of intellect find a reason to be diplomatic when what is needed is a lesson in respect. Had the U.S stepped up and kicked ass there, then 9/11 and the twin towers would never have happened. The pending question is, isn't that what a soldier is for?--to preserve liberty and life? I could and would have died as a solider with honor, my life would have amounted to some worthy cause.

12 July 2007

Busy busy day. Spent the day trying to please a warden who shouldn't even be a warden. It never amazes me. Prisons are not that complicated. Most of the men in prison--at least in Texas--really want to be here. I mean--most Texas inmates have no problem engaging in homosexual relations. The majority of the Texas inmates are gay. Oh--they call it bisexual--but hey! If you pitch or bat you're still in the game. And sooner or later, even the batter has to catch.

13 July 2007

Oo-what a day. I love it. Maintenance day and we got tons of crap done. Nowell seems to be looking like a good addition. He actually has some snap.

14 July 2007

Lazy lazy day. A cup of coffee and some music. I tried to remain strong and hold out a week but I actually had a fantasy dream of Suzy. Such dreams always take me back to better days and a life. Started working on some letters. Actually just one letter from Michelle. I have to be thankful. I have two women that are consistent in my life. Unfortunately, one is my niece Marsh and Michelle, the snow bunny, is married. Just the story of my life. I always seem to be a better friend than anything else. I often wonder what happened to Connie, Tammy or even Jay Filluse. I'm beginning to see where I lost probably the best times of my life by looking for more than just a friend. What a fool sacrifices in search of intimacy, I'd really like to know about Connie or Jay. Maybe-one day I can go back to Lawton Ok and look them up. It'd be fu to shock and spoil them.

Oh well, a letter to Michelle always helps me remember that not all society is sorry and narrow minded. It takes a real special person to care for those that no one else gives a damn about. I guess it's the unique individuals of this world who make the journey worth taking.

The day is about gone and I'm tired-again.

15 July 2007

I refused to be conquered by shame, time or disadvantages. I refuse to imprint blame to others whom influenced by own fate. We are born unique individuals without mark. It is there the effects of either dysfunctionalism or demonic entities that dictate the environment to which one is reared to either productive negativity or negative productivity. The first is one who strives to overcome with productive activities and events in an attempt to be accepted socially while being mentally overwhelmed with time to fail. The latter is one who thrives on the negative influences of environment for productivity of self lust to which he brings society down in order to elevate himself. How be it, I will not judge the who is who of the two for eve those who appear honest are in fact of the latter. Although I've yet to meet anyone in the latter to persevere to rise to the first. Many things effected and influenced my psyche to eventually fall below the standard of morality. I admit my shame to a degree yet, I meant no harm or at least, at the time of my acts I didn't think I did. Call it selfish desire or lust--at that point and time of my life, the overwhelming reasoning concluded I was actually trying to give special love and attention to those I loved most. I stood wrong. I stand corrected today.

There are two types of evil in this world. Those who mean well and those who mean ill. I believe and have seen the first corrected and yet, society gives them no leeway or understanding while at the same time, the latter--pure evil--society strives to accommodate those who mean ill.

I have committed my crimes against those I love and society. I can only apologize and strive to become a better citizen than a common pillar of the community. I do hope society will if not now--some time later-- forgive me. I can not buy such redemption, I can only strive to earn it.

Most of my day was spent at the Kiaros retreat. I find the art of religion a self enlightening act which does yield us light as a fruit. The plane of liberty to which I am able to fly deliverers me into a land beyond understanding. Who desires to understand why and where our western civilization began its decline? The answer would deliver us all, but not without the single greatest element "the collective masses." In this all could walk or fly like the eagles they are.

16 July 2007

Many things can be discovered through introspection for example, the plight of an ant, born into this huge world, his tiny existence is bent on developing and serving a social community in what is it an ant a very long life. To us, ants are just busy little insects bent on biting every chance they get, yet these passively docile creatures work feverishly to do one thing: create and develop their own little fiefdom. If we pull back from our microscope and look heavenward, we may find the God of all is peering at us mediocre humans. We scramble around at lightening speed trying to maintain a vast fiefdom bent on deliberately destroying the net kingdom. We devour ourselves first in our society, claiming in the name of civility that we deal humanely with all. The powerful drain the resources of the colony for self gratification of being called a cop, prosecutor, judge, mayor, senator or president. What are these people but power hungry pathogens subverting the divine machine for the purpose of controlling the mass for their own evil, greedy, lustful desires. Once these parasites have subverted and left their own in vacuumed vortex of chaos, they turn to another kingdom to destroy it. How much more intelligent are we than the ant (laugh). Paul McCartney stated "to make some headway in world peace. It would be great if people with difference in the world today would realize that there are no differences--it's an energy field, Dude!" I believe our generation has found the loop hole to world peace we just couldn't quite grasp the methodology to bring it about. That loop hole is simple, deny governments their ability to function independently. A government held accountable to the collective conscience of the masses is subject to the energy of that collective. The methodology to which we could bring about change is to unit in mind, body and spirit a concept of Utopian merit--that is, people choose the cultures to which they desire to function. Cultures need borders in which preserve their own peace but are open for others to pass through on their quest of enlightenment.

In this, we must reckon to one natural fact, what is wrong to one individual or country--meaning what is unacceptable behavior--isn't necessarily wrong immoral or unacceptable in another country. Simply put, what I believe to be right or wrong isn't what someone else would consider to be right or wrong. Cigarette smoking is a good case in point--it is a personal choice to which an individual must decide is right or wrong. The decline of our societal strength is our inability to accept another power of "free will." We are a society of condemnation that can only be appeased by self-destruction.

We are on lockdown today. Wow just another game the system is set in motion to dehumanize and desensitize the incarcerated. Deliberate trespasses upon one's property is according to their program to the incarcerated an acceptable act. I'm glad I went to breakfast. They delivered lunch at five P.M. a burrito and a peanut butter sandwich. I am not mad, it's just another game in life's dastardly scheme.

17 July 2007

"The beat goes on" as Sonny and Cher say. In reviewing the many interviews in the Rolling Stone 40th anniversary edition, the single overwhelming census is, our country is ready for a revolution. A major change in social and political arenas. The real question is, why has it not happened? Is it that everyone born post sixties are cowards? I truly believe this to be the exact reason. I cannot excuse myself, for I being born in the sixties was raised in the shadows of backlash where we recoiled in response to potential problems, not problems of the past. The government with all it's resources and complete influence over the media has the capabilities to destroy promising leaders with propaganda promulgated over past mistakes. In order for any leader of promise to lead effectively, he/she must not fear negative publication of past mistakes. He/she must acquire a nonjudgmental fuck it all attitude. Some of our greatest leaders in this nation are not in college campuses or superior prep schools, they are in prison. Show me a politician who has no skeletons and I will show you professional panderer of the masses in their entirety. Man evolves from trial, error and tragedy. Mistakes made are roads traveled and experienced, like King David or Solomon who denied themselves nothing when it came to pleasure. Their quest into the immoral paths made them wiser, more effective leaders with spirit. Today's youth must grasp not at Obama, Hillary or any other puppeting carpetbagger. The leaders needed to progress this civilization into a positive direction are those declared felons. The prisons are where the true leaders are. This fact, the state governments acknowledge by denying felons the God-given right to vote in exercising their free-will. Had Texas inmates and felons ever been able to vote George W. bush would never have been elected president because the felons--wise to the Nixon philosophy "People don't vote by faith, they vote on fear." Bush was elected governor because the state prison system miraculously release (by accident-yeah right) Kenneth McDuff and followed this release with the release of a known pedophile known to hate children. Between those two psychotic killers, the masses in fear, voted Bush into officer out of fear because Bush is gonna lock them (the felons) up and throw away the key The politicians all voters should beware of, it's those who run a "save the children," "protect the children" and a "hard on criminal" platform.

Anyway--when the young people of this nation choose to rise up and be heard, they must look down to the felons who are politically wise. The youth--university students and high school students-- must act now in their youth if they desire a firm foundation. "Every government or cabinet exists to serve the established school of thought and action."

This lockdown has been good in that I have been able to slow down and give serious thoughts to the issues at hand. How do we end the Iraqi war? We must dilute the controlling entities. You can never occupy but you can conquer in totality either by military coupe or gradual dilution of the masses. Three things could effectively be resolved at this point--the prison population could effectively be eliminated, 2.6 million felons is a lot of dilution. Second--the dilution of Iraw with the influx of American felons would completely split the hardnosed religious left--fragment and conquer. Third--the tax payer would be relieved of a highly absorbent expense "prisons and the war" which would lower the deficit to controllable levels.

Anyway--this is mundane pondering. The youthful exuberance of past generation came from their desire for independence. Today--the youth are dependant on parents and government to think for them.

Perhaps I am very fortunate to be in prison because in the world I was miserably alone in the elite class that America could easily create an international utopian type environment. Capitalism has its promises, but promises are often broken. Let Armageddon begin it is time for complete change.

18 July 2007

Lazy day. Spent most of the day working on BDI. The screenplay is almost half done and I am glad. I am once again pondering the prospect of buying a yacht and just hanging out in the open seas, the Caribbean, South America, panama, South Pacific. A boat is the vessel into heaven's gate. What do I have to offer American society anyway. I am in a sense a man without a country.

19 July 2007

Long day with little to do. The nice thing about lock down is, I get caught up on so much crap. I've almost got half of BDI written. Actually, the screenplay is about five eights done on the first draft. I ponder the questions, what would I do tomorrow if I didn't care about what others thought? I hate to consider just abandoning my family, but I can't help but wonder why I came where they don't. Their silence and neglect now should be enough to let me know, they have cut me off.

So, do I go to Montana and build a cabin in the woods, go to west Texas and build a garden of Eden or do I focus on buying a yacht and just float around the Bahamas, Caribbean and maybe take a trip to Scotland and Ireland. These are the three alternatives. Financially I do not worry because I know what my novels and screenplays will pay eventually . Time is no longer a matter in my case I am on my way out, it isn't a matter of if but when. Not much else going on. I've had some crazy dreams but they've been interesting and somewhat prophetic. Needless to say, if certain things happen I will be awestruck with mystic appreciation. Karma is really a splendid thing. I have paid my debt physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. Now I receive what the superior authority blesses me with. Well, time to go fly through the plane of liberty.

20 July 2007

The most beautiful era of sound had to be in the later sixties early seventies. I don't recall any music in that era that didn't speak for the world. The Mamas & The Papas "Monday-Monday-So good to me" or "All the leaves are brown/ And the sky is gray/ I went for a walk/ on a winter's day/ I'd be safe and warm/ If I was in LA/ California Dreamin" I recall the movie of the same name in which I actually could feel the rhythm of energy of those in California. I mean "the people out there turn the music into gold" as another song states. As a kid, I guess I felt everything was so right about California. How easy we lose our youthful flavors and taste simply because we don't act on the urge to experience it. Is 45 too old to begin experiencing a life anew? I think not. Actually, the prospect of living invigorates me. I believe myself to be a much better man now since I no longer fear my skeletons both of what was done to me and what I have done to others. A man or woman can rarely find this freedom until they cease to exist. Jack Kerouc stated "Prison is the place you promise yourself to live when you get out." I paraphrase, but his words and the freedom of passing the midlife crises. No sins concealed, no dreams too large, no adversity too great, life begins now.

21 July 2007

Strange day. Spent most of it writing. The more I write, see the actual story unfold, the potential of every scene in the movie, the joy of creating a story worth telling. All these make writing a total joy. I've been talking to the blond chick in the orchestra group BOND. I don't know her name and I really pay most blondes little attention. But this lady is not only attractive, she is confident, she is determined and she is intelligent which is always refreshing. I don't know her name but I do know this, she is no Paris Hilton, Madonna or Spears. This gal is a lot like Jodie Foster, just plain sophisticated and admirable.

Anyway, lonely men do stupid things. Talking to a photo has always been a liberty since I pondered the writing of the musical "Paper Dreams," although I've not written it, the drama in its entirety is there.

The lock down continues. It's half hot, half cool, just depends on when it rains. I'm hungry, two sandwiches at a wack just don't go far. My consolation is, this too shall pass soon enough.

They had a little squabble. It didn't last long. One really didn't want to fight and the other was glad, although both tried to look cold-heartedly serious. It's just one of those things.

I affirm the beauty of this day with its great wonders, mysteries and blessing.

22 July 2007

Woke up this morning with a smile. If my dreams are any sign of my future social life, I shall enjoy the beautiful ladies to which I will wine, dine and dance with. Strange, no wet dreams yet, but then, women weren't created just for sex. The pleasure of pleasant vibrant conversations sprinkled with good times is much better I think. So, I woke refreshed--rescued from the environment of this cauldron. My first activity after brushing my teeth, was to open a power motor yacht magazine and browse. Suddenly, upon scanning a dozen worthy fanciful vessels for sale, I actually began imagining actually shopping for one. In this imagery I simply answered the phone, it was Nicole Caulfield from RJCI associated, inc, a yacht brokerage firm. She had heard I was browsing for a nice stylish yacht, miraculously heard I like Browards, Westport and Azimut yachts. Her pitch was some vessel Lady Alise customized--4 staterooms stabilizers and warermakers. It was a Westport. I had to decline since I was seriously considering a one hundred fifty foot Boeing priced very low through Sam Marino custom yachts. After all, when I seriously begin the publishing of the Cokridge Affairs, my pirates will not be living on a dilapidated vessel. But, that is just speculation, novels of modern pirates will have no chance with Robert William Coleridge, multi-millionaire. As I said, it isn't a matter of if, but when.

Ah--lunch is served--great cuisine, a chicken patty sandwich (dry) and peanut butter. I am truly blessed (yeah right!) Hey its more then what others get in the world a week.

23 July 2007

Woke up wishing I just stayed in the company of my dreams. Such dismal realities of leaving good conversation and company just permeates of injustices. Not much going on. Almost finished BDI. It's actually looking pretty good and if I don't have to go to work for a few more days, I will be done. Then it's a revision of Sugarshack and Vynal. I could actually end this lock down with 4 perfectly good screenplays. I believe I am going to amend the title of "The Fourth Reich" with the colon addition of "the Fading Federation" since the novel is to truly bring about the realization that our current federal system is self serving and destructive. At this point, it makes no difference as to who will win the presidential election in 2008. All parties will be subservient to a foreign authority. Even Obama another Bin Laden in sheep's attire. Never trust the poetic hopeful carpetbagger. As for Hillary, she is pro one world order. So, whether the U.S implodes of its own stupidity and greed, as it is, or some military force rolls onto its belly, rest assured, American is in decline. I guess this is just my way of thinking through the pending prophecy. Nothing much else to kick around. Life is good, in fact, life is great. The only thing missing is a few dancing girls.

24 July 2007

They pulled me out for a week. Unfortunately, we had Guidry as supervisor and that always make for a F-day since the majority of T.D.C.J's inmates are whining ass mama's babies. Oh well, they whined, cried and out of a good eight hour day, we cut a whole two hours and they threw a rod in one of the mowers. I spent the morning day working on weed eaters because outside yard used our equipment the day before and literally trashed the weed eaters. Anyway, to add to the mayhem, we are on lockdown and now, they've quarantined one section because one of the less healthy dudes (the unhealthy refuse to take care of themselves, they get more attention from nurses if they stay sick) broke out, probably hives but the medical department trained by the University of Texas medical branch of Texas A&M don't know what symptoms denote which disease. The medical of UTMB has definitely left me with the conclusion that I want nothing from medical personnel of any merit. The best doctor I ever had believe it or not was Dr. Benski, a veterinarian. Oh well, such is the sophisticated medical profession. I shouldn't be surprised, Suzy joined their ranks and from what I gather, it's nothing more than orgy-fest. Medical personnel have no sincere compassion, but they are the professional-

How reassuring. The day is spent, I'm hulled out, time to just sleep it off, get some positive vibes back.

24 July 2007

Occasionally when I get to thinking negatively, which I have done more than I should, I ponder the words of some truly spectacular songs. Music of the humanity age--the sixties, seventies and early eighties spoke of the human condition especially in rock n' roll. Country had it's effects, although most the music in country in that era was of the lowest quality of humanity. There are exceptions: John Denver, Michael Martin Murphey perhaps Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson. Their music wasn't so degrading, encouraging infidelity like today's so-called soul R+B and hip hop, which capitalizes on tragedy. To think there were many in country who had a grasp on true life and humanity, Crystal Gayle, Marty Robbins, Red Sovine and C.W. McCall. Anyway, a couple of the best lyrical verses comes from Keith Whitley's I'm no stranger to the rain. Keith was a true balladeer. Sad that the truth of the situation was, he was struggling to survive humanity. If music could literally embrace me, I would have no desire for human companionship. Perhaps, some really good weed will do. One thing about my life, I truly have nothing left to lose, the week, I will enjoy, the booze I will enjoy. But then, sometimes I believe I am O'Henry in reincarnate. So what can I say. "Turn of the lights, the party is over."

25 July 2007

Boring uneventful day. Worked on BDI screenplay for a little while. Finished reading Judith Orloff's book. Pulled out an old drawing of a space station I had planned out for the novel Pensat One which I quit working on back in '98. I'm dicking around with some short story ideas. But, for now, I want to finish BDI and then The Fourth Reich. Started reading Albert Camus' lyrical and critical essays. Meals were of little note so no reason to waste ink.

26 July 2007

Busy day. Bits of work done on one screenplay. Started reading Rick Warren's A Purpose Driven Life. It's all fair and interesting to a degree. Took a nice nap. Woke up and wrote some more.

27 July 2007

Quite an interesting day. I'm beginning to see the end of BDI (finally). A whole week without mail in a strong of weeks, just depressing at times. Managed to write three essays for P.E "Sources of Strength" "Gratitude" and ...Fresh Air." The fresh air essay came out of left field. The gratitude was just playing with words. I also completed the Viking history project. About six, the crap hit the fan, the guard went to being exceedingly disrespectful. That led to everyone going to the dayroom for a peaceful demonstration to the so-called quarantine and refusal of the little punk guard to bring grievances. By the time rank got here, he had heard a total b.s story. Oh well, they may end up restricting all of us from the dorms. Only time will tell. I don't see it, but, they'll do anything to cover their own butts. Well, out of time and day, I'm tired.

July 29th, 2007

Time to redefine my concept of journaling. Lately I have been writing about what appears to be more of what is called essays. So, not to abuse the program, I'll try to get back to the basics. We are still on lock down and quarantine although I have never seen a so-called quarantine where officers and inmates come and go without protective gear. But there, this is why the new staph infection, the drug resistant strain exists, it was created by the people in UTMB and then deliberately exposed to TDCJ inmates for research on its devastating effects and its contagion capabilities. The problem is, or was, TDCJ is not a controlled environment. Inmate families were exposed, and eventually the officers were exposed, and the rest is history. The great all-merciful medical community created a new virus to which they can profit. But I digress, I have no idea what we are being exposed to. I have a fever today.

July 30th, 2007

Breakfast was a biscuit and peanut butter sandwich. I woke with red pussy freckles around my armpits. Still have a fever, armpits are itching. I'll take a shower and put a little motor oil on my arms. Lunch, burrito with sandwich. Supper tablespoon of tuna on two pieces of bread and peanut butter sandwich. Almost finished with B.D.I. script. I'm actually surprised at how the movie script came out. In its first draft, most of the loose ends have been tied, the wrinkles ironed out.

July 31st, 2007

Breakfast one egg, three prunes, a milk, peanut butter sandwich. Lunch hamburger with cheese, peanut butter. Dinner bologna sandwich and PB sandwich. Didn't do much on BDI. The small infected blemishes around armpits are disappearing. Still feel feverish. Spent most of the day just talking space exploration technology, the great man on the moon scam of America. I was naïve as a child, but as a child I thought as a child. As a man I am armed to question. Some questions the answers are common sense.

August 1st, 2007

No fever today, the blemishes have vanished. Breakfast was a biscuit and peanut butter. I would complain, but even in its mediocrity I am still eating a grand meal compared to some people in this world. Lunch was half a piece of baked, overcooked chicken no seasoning, and a peanut butter sandwich. We've been lucky, it's been kind of wet this week. Raining a little in the later evening to cool things off.

August 2nd, 2007

Hmm--interesting day. Almost finished the screenplay, I am only five pages away from completion. That's a good feeling. I set my goal to write six screenplays this year, and I've actually written two. One more and I hit a fifty percent ratio on achieving goals. Breakfast was a boiled egg, a milk, and a pb sandwich. Lunch, nasty fish and pb. Supper canned chicken (food poisoning). One of my associates brought a triple X book over. Hmm. Okay, so I only got eight more years max. He laughed, teased me about my pictures of the two girls in Bond, a Mila Kunis picture, and a photo of Danica Patrick. I'll stick to my fully-dressed dream girls. They are out of my league but they are real ladies.

August 3rd, 2007

Finish BDI, the screenplay is done. Now comes the cutting, editing and polishing. Then, hopefully maybe some agent will check it out. Imagination is active today, I'm actually seeing Mila Kunis dancing to the Guns N' Roses song "Hold On Loosely." Now that image makes life worth living. I could also enjoy seeing Debra Messing sashaying around an electric blue aura dancing to Seger's "Down on Mainstreet." Ah, Hollywood, the land of goddesses. Breakfast, biscuit, pb. Lunch was a hot dog, pb, and dinner bologna and pb.

August 4th, 2007

Laid back today. Started work on a dramatic monologue play to present to PEN American Center. It's a musical, but I'm not sure of format in regards to known music and dramatic production. Sat awhile, discussed with Ice the formation and success of Bad Dogs Inc., not the screenplay but the actual company I desire to set up for professional purposes. He understands the details and benefit more now. Breakfast 2 eggs, pb sandwich and a milk-- woohoo we got a meal. Lunch was a bologna sandwich and pb. Dinner was a burrito and pb sandwich. Feeling pretty good, doing a little revision on the screenplay.

August 5th, 2007

Quiet day. Discovered an ingenious way to make a typing ribbon that I could reuse. Spent most of the day applying cloth medical tape to carbon paper then cut the tape into typewriter ribbon widths. Winding it up is a pain, but desperate times require desperate measures, I need ribbons so I can type. I can't present any books or screenplays in handwritten form and I have way too many manuscripts now. It's crude, I get one typed page of screenplay before I have to rewind it. And the quality sucks. But at least the manuscripts are getting typed even at one page an hour. Still locked down, it's super hot.

August 6th, 2007

Quiet day. Slept late. Started writing "Houston" over and "A Long Road's End." I have a good start on both. I don't know where I'll be able to start promoting them, but if nothing else, it's money in the bank. Not much else going on. The regular three rations a day. We ran out of coffee today, so that sucks. Oh well, I can't get mad. The coffee lasted longer than what I deserved.

August 7th, 2007

They finally let the farm up, we are still under quarantine. I'm not mad. Got 6 pages of BDI typed today, 8 pages of "A Long Road's End" written and 12 pages of "Houston." A day is no waste if a person works for the opportunity of tomorrow.

August 8th, 2007

Hump day. It is hot, 99 at noon, no rain and very little air movement. Typed nothing today, the ribbon issue is just not gonna work. But I kept working on "Houston" and "A Long Road's End." Not much really going on. I sit back and marvel at the snapping dogs around me. These people are not starved, just greedy and spoiled. It isn't hard to see why most are here. Well, it's late, finally cooled off enough to relax.

August 9th, 2007

Sent Marsha a letter off. Also mailed off things to Prisoner Express, poetry. Oh, wrote a letter and mailed it off to Judith Orloff, don't know why. I guess just to let her know, not all inmates are failures. Worked on "Houston" and "End." Just trying to stay focused. I have to succeed, it is not a matter of choice.

August 10th, 2007

It's Stephanie's birthday. I think she is 25 today. It's hard to believe it's been three or four years since we've talked. I guess it really doesn't matter anymore. One day, I'll be free and I will be gone. Perhaps they won't care, perhaps they will, but one thing for sure, it is too late all the same. I've tried to make amends and I'm willing to walk the miles, but I'll not walk it alone anymore. Oh well time to get to work. It's too late to get a screenplay into PEN American especially without a typewriter ribbon. It's just too much work with carbon paper.

August 11th, 2007

Today has been much different. The old cat in bunk 60 died. He was constipated from all the peanut butter sandwiches. He made store Friday and tried to eat enough sweets and stuff to get the bowels unlocked, unfortunately the cokes were too much, his body swelled, liver collapsed. And so he got a pardon from his sentence, medical refused to see him until he was dead. It's a no win situation. The good news, I got to page 50 on "Houston" and page 26 on "End." Things are looking promising. Temps are at 101 today, no place to get relief, even the cold shower is hot.

August 12th, 2007

Pretty good day. I got a little productivity. Every page writ today is a thousand dollars tomorrow. If and when tomorrow ever gets here. Sat and watched "The Company" which could've been a whole lot better had they not tried to cover such a broad area.

August 13th, 2007

Today would have been Suzy and mine's 26th Anniversary. Oh well. I look forward to that day of my funeral when the only thing anyone of my past life will have to talk to is a cold gravestone. That means Stephanie is just turned 25 and Stephen will be 24 come October.

August 14th, 2007

Quarantine is over, finally! Actually got a hot meal today. Work went reasonably well, everything was tore up as I expected. They bought a craftsman riding mower for the visitation cut which is a waste of time, the ground has too much clay in it. Everything was stolen, I expected that and the squad was in chaos. I let them continue on in such just to observe the humor of it. I got # five and seven fixed. No mail, I'm beginning to get depressed at this, but I still have the fresh memory of Donna to remind what treachery a woman friend is. Had a good long talk with Trey, laid everything out on the table about the corporation on faith not hope. Things are looking good. Jimmie said he was doing something with Pens in Motion. That could be good or bad depends on who is at the blunt of his attention. One of these days I will have the writer's group back in operation. It may not be until I get out where I can actually work on getting my novels and screenplays sold.

August 16th, 2007

Tropical Storm Ernie blessed us with some cooler temps and some rain. I hate the hurricane season, not because of the storms, but because of the general disruption. Worked on typing up BDI screenplay. I got a good ten pages typed. Not bad considering the means. I'm going to save the original handwritten, the backs having the rough draft typed up on this hook ass ribbon and the carbon copy that I'll send to Trey for a final draft. These have been the most desperate methods of improvising one can imagine. I can only lean into faith knowing the effort will be recognized from on high.

I am also looking forward to that day where I will actually be walking amongst those single mothers with children. The thought of seeing them succeed is motivating, and actually pleasing. I can't wait for the day when the ranks of those gals will take over the BDI enterprise completely. It will be a great day to have a company party and treat them to a concert, maybe Alan Jackson, not to mention Thanksgiving and Xmas, and the bonuses.

August 17th, 2007

A most excellent day, even though it started out screwed up. Tropical Storm Irwin's entry along the Texas Gulf Coast brought some much needed relief. It started yesterday and looked like today was going to be a recreation of yesterday. It started raining early but stopped. Then it clouded up and started lightning, so we had to stick around the shed for awhile which turned out to be all day. All in all, I repaired every lawnmower we have except for those that they throwed the rods in. So, we're 15 strong on mowers. Most of the crew is bailing out. Mr. C talked to me about going to work on the hot water crew/boiler room, but he is probably going back to metal fab as assistant plant manager at which he wants me as his plant clerk. Came in, took a long nap then sort of hung out for awhile. We even got fed double on the baked ribs. Pretty good.

August 18th, 2007

Had a good day. Hurricane Dean don't look to be a great threat to us. As long as he hits about a hundred miles west of Galveston, we'll be ok. I really don't relish the luck of riding out another hurricane. I really didn't mind riding out Rita. She wasn't too bad, as best as I could say. It was like crazy, because of the loss of power, no lights anywhere, just the howling wind and pouring rain. A hurricane is totally awesome, it is a time when one can feel the truly unrestrained strength of mother nature, a feeling that inspires one. True, I was in prison, but few people realize how close the buildings came to actually collapsing. Multi-tonned slabs of concrete rocked and swayed as if some great being was testing the cards of their paper castle. The worst part came after the hurricane, the heat was extreme. I never understood why they shipped bags of ice in after a hurricane. It gets so hot that air is to thin to breathe. FEMA shipped in ice for us but it never got past.

I got 20 pages of BDF typed up today. I'm extremely confident. I still feel the materialistic anticipation of my girls. I am honored and thankful to the lord for giving me the opportunity to help his girls out. I know that once I can walk into that office and say "Good Morning, Ladies," I will also have the housing charity, writers group and charity construction firm to help the elderly fix their homes. So many things will be such an honor to do because I don't really deserve the opportunity to be a benefit to others.

August 19th, 2007

This day started out early. 2:00 am I couldn't sleep so I got up and worked on a stageplay. Don't know why, I guess it's because I aspire to become and established playwright, something with a lasting sense of credibility. I began writing a song, something in the lines of a Jimi Hendrix style. It will be good for BDF. Manufactured another typing ribbons since the last one was about history. I really didn't want to use the medical cloth tape, but when improvising, one takes what he can find. I ended up retyping page 48 of BDI the movie and then I got page 49 typed before putting the machine up.

We had our first official meeting of Bad Dogs Incorporated, which is not to be confused with the movie although the corporate name seems to have been birthed there so it is only proper to have a name reminiscent to the beginnings. I need to draw up the Rotwieler soldier caricature for a trademark registration.

The board of directors issue was surprising. I was elected CEO. Trey was second runner up and ended up CO. Rick got the treasury slot and Ron got secretary, leaving Ice as security. Now we are formally organized unofficially.

Other than that, the day was smooth. There is a time when one can understand the larger scheme of the universe, the divine concept. The world evolves around the power of charity or as the apostle Paul stated, love.

August 20th, 2007

The day went well, was busy and routine. Holland came back and let everyone know he wasn't going to outside yard. Most of the equipment ran smooth. I just wished I could say the same for the operators.

Life becomes appreciative when one realizes life is about the small stuff. As a child we have childish dreams larger than life schemes and unrestrained hope. For years I clung on to those adolescent beliefs. Old age or the midlife crisis brings about the full understanding. It isn't how much of this world you can buy and claim ownership of. Ultimate success comes from how many peoples lives we can affect in a positive way. The long term effects. How many truly wealthy people have left a legacy? I can recall only a few and even their contributions are limited, public libraries, hospitals, etc, etc. In which case the names just become the corporate signature of the person themself. Perhaps Danny Thomas is one of the few that enacted charities, like Jerry Lewis who's legacy is of themselves, a signature of their character. Perhaps that is the main point, to create a character signature, a mark that is forever seen beyond the corporate mumbo-jumbo.

August 21st, 2007

Things can get screwy quick, and so that is how the day began and ended. For the most part though it was a very quiet day.

To whom do we owe our destiny? To ourselves, to those we love, to God, to society. Our destiny is supposedly given to us by God himself. Scripturally speaking, we were pre-destined to the life in which we live be it an honorable or dishonorable one at that. It is not hard to understand. Camus states: "A destiny is born in my despair." But it is not just my own destiny but the destiny of others especially that of the proclaimed Christian sect, perhaps it is just misunderstood by so many. So--part of our destiny is owed to God, good or bad. Then, we owe part of our destiny to our parents and loved ones, much for our upbringing, for most of our choices are made in accordance with the way our parents raised us. As for loved ones, the decisions I am making now will affect them and their futures. There will be a time when Suzy, Stephanie and Stephen will wish they had made other choices, but by the time they realize their needs, I will be symbolically dead to them.

So, to whom do I owe my destiny. At this time God and myself for there are no other variables to affect my destiny. My Road Dogs will become my only family. I desire to exalt God in all I do and, in 25 years I plan on running for the Governor's seat of Texas.

August 22nd, 2007

The world, a great land of massive walls creating a maze for all whom are living in this race of rats. Every individual has built for themselves a fortress strong and became ghosts of our own identity. The person we present is as transparent as our ghost but our smoke creates the illusion that others see and we ourselves see in the mirror. To be real is to be vulnerable to all thing, even man's best friend. A dog will break us down upon its death, so none are safe less we remained tucked away within our fantasies, it's bricks of rejection and space its mortar mixed with the tears of experience.

August 23rd, 2007

Nice productive day. Too hot to really do any writing and too tired to do any typing. Hopefully cooler weather is on the way.

August 24th, 2007

I was supposed to have the day off but that never happens. We are getting the visitation cut back, I knew it wouldn't last long. It's easy to talk the talk but to walk the walk, most people have a natural ability to zip like a crawfish. Today is supposed to be our last sunny day so I am doing some recreating.

August 25th, 2007

There are dreams I sometimes just want to stay in. And there are those dreams I wish I never had. Last night's dream was just one of those bad ones. But like any dream I have with Suzy in it, it has become just so much deep regret and the catalyst for despair. I think of what I was in the world before prison, I see now what a heinous bastard I was. And to actually think I considered myself a man even at mask value. I'm glad my crimes were discovered, I only wish or should I say my only regret was that I wasn't man enough to open the door and expose myself. Our sins are locked behind an iron door: the locks of shame, rejection and fear of loneliness keep us in bondage. There was a time when I was wise and would have recognized the futility of secrets. I have no excuse. I loved my family, wife and kids, those too became locks upon that door. My hope being that I'd at least be able to hang onto what blessings I had. Unfortunately, blessings can become a curse.

But that's criticism on issues of a lesser concern. In pondering the events that are about to unfold, it's ironic that the legacy I desire to build will be left to a bunch of ex-felons, a select few that have become more like brothers than anyone else of this world.

At this point I do not know what direction this path I travel shall take me. But life is about living and we owe it to God and ourselves to live it to its fullest despite the ill social standards that exist.

Sept 2nd, 2007

I value my true friends. I've only a couple to speak of, Michelle, a married woman who's faith is in action rather than in words. Marsha, my niece who seems to be more of a daughter than my own. Hen there are a couple individuals within here, this God forsaken place of multiple selves. Society sickens me for their lack of independence. Where are the schools of independence. Where are the youthful free thinkers, those maturing individuals of higher education whom will one day inherit the curses of this great nation. Oh how I'd like to speak to those masses. But, I fear the youthful masses are as passively blind and deaf as their foolish parents. Parents who refused to speak unlike those of the 60's. Nevermind that there is no draft. What good is a draft to a military that is soon to be disbanded. Our great nation flounders, it's very foundation eroded away for the wealth of a few. I get so angry because I have fallen not into silence but into despair. Who would listen to me?

Sept 3rd, 2007

Chose to write a letter to Michelle today. One must cherish the virtuous relationship. Thought about taking up serious prayer again last night. I know prayer works, especially if I am not praying for my own desires or needs. God cares little for the desires or needs of the fallen. I write this so that it is a witness to all, God has given me nothing but a life of regret. Should God be the so-called loving father, then let the relationship between he and I be a definition of his love. On this date, I live a life of regret without hope or even a prospect of hope. The hope I have is merely my own illusion that keeps me pressing on to that day where I can sit on a tranquil bridge, a place of my past, I can get sloppy drunk, doped up and perhaps I will muster the courage to eat lead or a bunch of sleeping pills. I don't know, in times past I was interrupted once and other times I was just a damn coward. I've always been a coward.

Sept 4th, 2007

Hello! Is anyone out there. Very long peaceful day. I just lounged about. Sort of relaxed. Finished my Greek study guide. Now I'll have to read it again for study questions.

Sept 5th, 2007

Busy day. Proofread, polished 45 pages of BDI, nothing else going on. Was forced to endure the racist tennis matches of the US open. Not that it is an issue beyond the walls, but in here it is an issue of hate. And on the issues of hate, I'm pondering a treatise for war since Bush and current political leaders have had such a hard time trying to figure out why our current policy of/for war doesn't work. "War is the hostile act to usurp a country's leadership and militia for sovereign benefit and asset; all spoils becoming the prize of the conqueror." And "proper tactics of war is to bring about complete chaos, devastation and suffering upon every individual to include the noncombatant, suffrage brings surrender of the land and people's will. The natives of the land becoming a subclass according to the natural hierarchy of evolution...

This was our failure in Vietnam, it is our failure now in Iraq. "A successful offensive tactic is to pull back all military forces and leave the people to their own fates, success or failure, life or death. Eventually, the suffrage, criminal acts (ethnic cleansing), hunger, deprivation of basic necessities, disease and pestilence would defeat the divided masses to a point where they would willfully invite foreign intervention. "We, America was not invited into Iraq. Those in Iraq were or are weak, else they would have rid themselves of Saddam Hussein themselves." Revolutions are historically effective for nothing else but the overthrow of tyranny.

Sept 6th, 2007

Having a hard time getting any sleep. Catnapped most of the day, too hot to get comfortable. Done some proofreading and polishing on BDI. Wrote a rough draft letter to the Marshall Camerone Agency. Reluctant to mail it out until I find out if I am going to have to wrangle a good final draft into typing. I almost I could do it myself if I had ribbons.

The muses have been good to me today. I started a song that goes something like this:

"I crank it up to blow my mind/ travel back to a better place and time/ she tossed her hair and danced so wild/ she makes me feel so alive inside/ flings her long red hair all around/ her every move set to the purest sound/ she's a rock n' rollers fantasy/ keeping the young man alive in me/ and she's living in stereo, a vision I still hold close/ where she's--dancing in stereo, her spirit is my soul"

Not bad for the first verse of a decent rock n' roll song. I believe strippers have the most honest profession. Well, till tomorrow.

Sept 7th, 2007

Slept almost all day. Hit page 105 on the polishing of BDI and I actually got mail, a package of books from Prisoner Express, which seems to be my only allies in these times. Most were small lit rags, but they are important since they'll give me an idea as to what these little lit rags desire in writing. And I got a book of poetry which I needed badly, almost as badly as a book on screenplays. Day ended fair.

Sept 8th, 2007

Screwy day. Thank God this week's over. We almost broke out into a race riot. An older black cat decided to rough up a white dude, a youngster. The youngster wanted to take it to the shower. Well, all the so-called homeboys decided that the youngster was in the wrong for calling the old cat to the shower. They planned to click on the youngster. I suited up, strapped my boots and sat ready cuz I am already fed up with these coward ass blacks. I never held ill thoughts toward anyone of color, but being around them these 17 years has taught me one thing, we are at war with whining lazy racists. I hate being this way but I'm tired of being pushed to the edge of racial preference, it isn't just in prison it's America's curse. Anyway, things chilled the tension is still in the air but the fuse has been snuffed out once again.

Worked on the second verse to the song I started. Since I don't want to leave anything dangling. The song doesn't make much sense, but then, it does.

"Twurlin' bout on my smoke mirrored mind/ she carries me through troubled times of mine/ a remnant of innocence still tamed/ Holding back time's pure sand/ once again I'm young, hopeful and free/ enlightened by her memory/ she's an elusive rock on which I lean/ she was then as she is now, a dream/ she still, living in stereo/ the vision I still hold/ her spirit's in my soul/ dancing in stereo"

So that's it. Just words for a muse's amusement.

September 9th, 2007

Lazy day, slept in most of the day, but then I really didn't so to sleep until about 3:AM. Spent most of evening watching movies. Finished the polishing on BDI, I won't say it is done, but it ain't bad.

September 10th, 2007

Well, I got a multi strike Ribbon and Rigged it onto a cartridge, fabricated the gears and wheels. And, I paid for this success by slicing my middle finer-nail in half cutting a wheel in half. So, I'll probably end up losing the lower half of the nail before all is said and done. Anyway, the price of success is collected in blood. All in all, today has been a fairly good day.

In retrospect to one of my latest thoughts, on music. I stopped to listen to a thin supply song today and the thought was depressing in how so many youngsters give up an opportunity to enjoy the vast array of pure artist only to pollute the airwaves and minds with crap like rap or the orgasmic nauseating abuse of vocal chords dubbed soul. What happened to the real artist Jefferson Starship, Eric Clapton, Pete Someatere, The your of this country lost the beat of pure artistic capabilities. I find few of the socalled modern artist with any real talent as far as encapsulating a message to music. What was started with Buddy Holley and the Bogger has truly died to cross culturalism. And what is even sadder yet is the fact that country music is no longer a unique style, but polluted with cross-genre pop artist who would never make it as a pure pop artist. Face it, Neil Diamond, Tome Jones and Cher are just impossible acts to follow and country fans of today have no red neck roots.

September 11th, 2007

A lot of folks just don't realize it, The twin towers tragedy happened to everyone free or enslaved, Yank or Rebel, it happened to America. I wished they'd just load me up, give me the weapons of choice and let me parachute into the mountains of Pakistan. I don't need promises of a ticker tape parade, but as sure as I could track down a cottontail in the thorn bushes of Texas, I swear, Bin Laden would be no trouble, and anyone who got in the way would be like the skunks I stumbled across while hunting. It's all politics. You can't enslave America unless you scare the hell out of them. Personally, I think our own government took out the Twin Towers just like they took out the Murry building in Oklahoma City. Out greatest Terrorist is not foreign, it's in Washington DC.

September 12th, 2007

Well, they told us we would be off quarantine this Friday. Unfortunately, the dude with the crap bag has broken out in a rash supposedly from his medicine. This is what got us put on the quarantine during the July Lockdown. So, I have little faith in the rumor of us being freed Friday.

The blonde headed bar-fly that likes to ride rough shod over us is here today. She has two black eyes and a very nasty looking nose. Karma is a consistent power, you get what you reap.

Started Retyping "sugar shack" today. I really hope to get a screenplay sold. I saw where the Feds have cut the budget to the local 'meals on wheels' for the elderly. The organization lost fifty G's a year. I wished I could just hand it over. One of these days I will. And where I can help. I believe God will finally quit choking the life from me.

...No mail, oh well, some day maybe. Who knows, People only write where they want something, or at least that is the majority there is exceptions, a few real Christians, a few real Humans who know not all men in prison are bad.

September 13th,2007

Seldom do days begin as screwed up as today. But then, seldom do we wake up in the middle of a Hurricane. Humberto just didn't jive. I was woke up at 2:30 am with the tin roiling and popping on our trustee shack. Outside, the rain or watery curtain were blowing horizontal, I mean totally horizontal. I thought the whipping rain looked a little hard to be caught up in a 65 mile per hour wind. No wonder, the wind was at 85 mph and gusting to one twenty. This is my second hurricane and to be quite honest, I find them very inviting. I doubt I would bother with an evacuation out in the world since I do not find them that intimidating. Granted, I am in prison, but the chain link fence and concrete walls don't lessen the severity. A hurricane is very humbling. Well, we finally got electric back on at four ten this afternoon. Thank goodness. You just don't miss things until you no longer have them to enjoy. Electric is a gift I truly enjoy. Well, we're 'spose to come up off quarantine tomorrow.

Worked some on sugar shack. It amazes me that I wrote such a script. It is so much better than what I believe I can do.

September 14th, 2007

First thoughts. A view from within. It's two forty five am. Just twenty four hours ago, Hurricane humberto was trying to rip the top off of this sardene can. That was then, this is now, you wouldn't know Humberto had ever come through. Most are asleep right now except the dope feins and night crawlers. In the past firty five minutes I've gagged on the fumes of tobacco, weed and crack cocaine. If the dope isn't bad enough, they add insult to injury with the gawd-awful disinfectant spray that has no natural aromatic relative, I'd love to have a little pine tree air freshener hanging overhead.

I ponder a lot about the human condition. So many times I wished I didn't know what to expect out of people. I'd love to just be surprised by some unexpected turn of human events that would prove life wasn't just a chronological string of human events tainted with fierce emotions.

So many things I wish for. Each wish is a constant reminder that God either doesn't exist or, it isolates itself from all human affairs. I so much desire a God of Truth, of actions. But, like a child, sooner or later I must leave the fairy tales behind. Old Yeller is dead, and no, Dogs don't go to heaven. Oh well, I've only eight more years, there I can build a prison more to my liking. I have no problem with becoming an anti-social individual. Prisons aren't so bad as long as you can pick the cell and those you want to do time with. I will have my cabin in the mountains, my cellies? A taco dog, A rotweiller and a few horses. Well, so much for solemn contemplation.

I ponder one question of which I truly hope it remains a theoretical thought. What would I do if I saw a woman or child being raped or murdered? At the moment, I would like to think I would help, stop it, step in, intervene. But in all honesty, I know I must walk away, ignore it and leave it to life. Only a tainted fool believes in heroes. And tainted fools wouldn't receive the just treatment, They would end up back in prison.

September 15th, 2007

Had a chance to talk to Trey and George about business. Things are buttoned up on that. Not A whole lot going on. We are about to have a change in administration. I'm hoping, we will get some effective wardens this time. I was able to turn out for work yesterday long enough to see what all was going on. Holland left word that I will be getting moved, probably to Y pod. That'll be cool.

Steadily typing on Sugar Shack. Not much else going on.

September 24th, 2008

This is the first I've written this week. Not really in the mood. Talking! Waiting! It just seems to be such a waste of time, sort of like pouring water in a leaky bucket. Work has been busy, not really behind on anything which is a good thing. I should be making good on all this down time to put things in a better order retag, recount tweak out the problem areas. But there, why? It doesn't make a whole lot of sense in that there really is no logical reason to do it.

Got a letter from mom last night. It was the usual depressing stuff. Jerl is in the hospital. David is sick and refuses to quit smoking or drinking. Stephen and Stephanie are supposed to visit Thanksgiving. Hopefully they'll have a nice time. The truth is! I really have no family anymore. I guess that's why I'm feeling like nothing is worth it all. Oh well. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day. I'm just fucking tired of it all.

September 28th, 2008

It's been one of those weeks that the mind has had more to do than to write. I'm supposed to be finding or discovering things within me that would help me understand more of me. What is there about me that I don't know? The great question is, what do I really know about me?

I have to be a godless man, a wondering star, for nothing of my life makes sense. To dissect my own being, my own history, would be to open the door to so many issues that it would look as if I were striving to make excuses for who and what I am, there comes a time when one's life doesn't justify one's existence. I am living proof of this. Do I talk about taboo things complete with details? To do so, would only bring more shame to all the people whom I care about. I'd love to learn to love but in all honesty, I don't know how. I'd love to experience joy or happiness, yet it is to lay in this life to seek such euphoric planes. I'd love to experience a truly diving moment where I truly feel God's presence. There have been a few times. These times, had I been stronger, perhaps I would still be experiencing.

On some deserted highway in eastern California, I felt as if I were walking with this God. It was one of those trips where those how said or claimed they loved me left me stranded. It was as lonely, dark cold night when there was not a light to be seen in any direction. I recall being so lonely and heartbroken that I didn't see any reason to even live. Like a fool, I began speaking to God as if he were walking with me. That is how society wants to perceive God. It was how I myself wanted to perceive God, not as some distance super being, but as a friend, but god isn't a friend, at least not to me. I've lived my life on a rollercoaster of emotion all of it lonely, all of it looking for some fucking future that just wasn't meant to be. Every decision I've made seems to have been wrong. I'm sure, my last decision to destruction was telling Suzy I wouldn't move to Tennessee. I really just wanted to know how much she wanted me to move to Tennessee. I guess I was hoping she would argue for sure, to reassure me that not everything was lost that there was still hope. I just hoped she was truly serious. She's never wrote back so I guess I lost it all. I'm struggling now to find just one reason to even go on. I see no future now, no reason to plan beyond April 23rd 2017. I have a date with death and nothing of this world will matter. No one will miss me! Such a fucking pity!! No I won't pity myself nor do I look for pity. Better I can just keep logging down thoughts in search of answers to the questions that have no answer. It's been a hell of a ride though. Well I got a couple of years to explain how I got to where I am and justify where I'm going and what I'm going to do. I once contemplated writing "Memories of a mad man" because that is what I am, mad! Mad as insane. Mad as in angry. Perhaps this will all shed light to some other fool who finds they making the same stupid mistakes.

I behave with all my heart that the only person who ever really cared for me was my grandfather, I don't remember a whole lot about him since we seldom ever visited. But the few times we did, I felt like I was someone special. Grandpa always went out of his way to make sure I was loved. In these days, I don't recall a lot, especially when it came to tensions. But, as I look back and give suspicious opportunity to present facts I question my paternal existence. Grandpa seemed to go out of his way to treat me as his very own. This isn't normal not as I see how grandparents interact with their grandchildren. I sincerely don't believe granddad was really my granddad. In looking back I recognize the tender emotions of a father interacting with his son. This is one of those issues that could bring shame as well as label me as a freak of nature. Perhaps that is what I am, a freak. But, freaks are human too.

September 29th, 2008

I received last week an answer from my mom in regards to my memoire on where I met Ferry my stepdad. She accused me of being imaginative. Funny I was sure I hadn't written every detail in its exactness. Still it was written to the best of my memory. Does this mean my every memory is imagination? Just another question to add to the quandary of chaos.

Oh well, I sent her the few writings I've had published by P.E. One story "Rowdy" I'm sure she'll say is my imagination. Oh well if all I have for memories is my imagination then I could write a complete memoire of fiction and the memoire would be fitting to my mindful of nothingness. I didn't include a letter this time. No sense in me writing. She was overjoyed to boast about Stephen and Stephanie coming for Thanksgiving. I already know, this is a "put it in my face."

Mondays are never good for me, even when there is some good. Any good that comes is only a Divine pre-emptive strike, a fake right jab to be followed with a deadly left hook. I seriously thought about clearing the day room. Blow up! See how many of these so-called men I could take out of this world before being taken out. But, for all the disrespectful people in the world, I declined. I have a destiny, a time, a date with my own end. I will not be denied my own going away party. I've only a few years. There, I shall see if God is as powerful as he claims to be. I am a witness that can testify, he hasn't the power to intervene and stop the humane will. God man be able to move mountains, part seas, plague countries, redeem his chosen few. But he hasn't the power to change human desires. As I live, so shall I also die with this testament.

October 1st, 2008

It's been busy this week so far. Not a whole lot that I've been thinking. Sometimes it just good to think. What can I discover in writing that I don't discover in just going through my daily actions and thought processes. I have been told that I need to spend in self-affirmation. That is easier said than done since there is little about me that self-affirmation would change. I won't be arrogant or egotistic yet, if I affirm my skills as a writer then I'm egotistic. To affirm that I am a gifted storyteller is to be the same; I view self-affirmation as just what it is. I would rather arrive at a point in life where my work affirms me. I don't want the fame or the fortune I just want to be me, easy come and casual. This place doesn't allow that very often if ever.

I am lucky just to receive the books from P.E. and the occasional letter which re-affirms that I am at least human.

The hurricanes have come and gone, people are beginning to get their lives back into some semblance of life. The economy is shot to shit, sadly, it isn't over yet. The very real truth toward the future is given and only fools walk about believing it will get better. One thing about this place, it instills an attitude of survival. Only the strong will survive and the strongest will become the leaders of the grim future. The weak will fall unless someone steps up to lead to protect to guide. Trey claims we are on a mission from God, to be shepherds of those who will be vulnerable. He may be a Sheppard. He is more righteous than I. I have little faith in Jehovah and believe even less in his ability to deliver as he has promised. But, that's God's business, Trey's business. My business is to be the fortress the front parapets against the evils of what is soon to come into play.

I affirm one thing without an ego. I will die soon, and I look forward to whatever device it is that will end this miserable existence called life.

October 4th, 2008

This week is over. Several things happened today of interest. Trey got a visit from Paula. She was happy to inform him that he was a grandfather. It was ironic since he had been teasing Big D about being an old man with grandchildren. Then! Bam! He found out he was a grandfather. Evidently he forgot or it never registered on him about me talking about Stephanie and Alyssia, my daughter and granddaughter. I don't really think of them as much as I should not as a father. It isn't that I don't love them or want to know them. I guess it's just stepping out of me old being to keep from really getting emotional. It's hard to be or belong to those who don't want me to be. I love both my kids and if it means staying away, being nonexistent, then I will. I only want them to find happiness. That's really what I want for them and Suzy. I just have a hard time accepting the fact that their happiness doesn't include me.

All I ever wanted was to love my wife and kids and have a special relationship. It's downright wrong that we seldom if ever get what we want. This seems to be a recurring fact of life as I see it. Some guys in here I envy because their wives and families never walked away. Anyway, Trey is having a hard time believing he is a grandpa. One day, maybe he'll be proud of that fact as I am.

The second thing was, I picked up an issue of Curves magazine. Hopefully I can secure a couple of issues. They models in it will be ideal for paper dreams. It isn't Playboy or Penthouse but maybe it'll do for some general portraits. It's hard to get good seductive pictures to start getting inspired to put this play into form. Maybe I'll wait until I get out and just get the Playboy or Penthouses I'm looking for, who knows, maybe a strip club would work better. I definitely need to study up on dance moves since there exist music and dancing.

How to step in again to deal with the issues between Paul, Andrew, and Register. Register thought he had an ace in the hole by bringing in a hardcore one percenter. What he didn't expect was, I know several hardcore one percenters out in the world and Rooster knew the same people. We joked about me not having a bike but being allowed into some of the Angel's hangouts without getting eaten. Rooster told me I should get me a motorcycle (Harley) when I get out. I told him I didn't think they'd like a sex offender riding with them. He seems to think I'm wrong. As he put it, the Angles don't look at the sins of man as much as they look at how a man conducts himself. It's a thought, maybe a Harley and are endless Road Trip is the way to live out this thing called life. I'd rather do the road trip with a truck though.

Lastly, I am back on track with wired whisperer. I only had to retype 12 pages and cut about 30 completely out. These novels have such a quick way of taking one lives of their own.

Well, the day is spent. I think I'll take a shower and then kick back in my bunk and fantasize a little while. I really don't dig the one sided love affair, but it does release the pent up tension. Say what will be said, but personal appeasement is more rewarding than prayer.

October 7th, 2007

What few people realize in this place is the vast opportunity to ponder the world, discover its truths and deceptions. Any education worth having is useful in the art of philosophy or skill of genius. I am never able to quite accept how so many are willful to waste away in the mundane acts of common man. Sports, as much as I enjoy it, is for the most part a great waste of time. I enjoy a good football game. When Nolan Ryan threw his record breaker, I asked an exotic dancer to find another part of the stage to dance. It wasn't because she wasn't beautiful. I greatly enjoy the feminine body and a woman with a natural allure. I am also partial to the Bears in Chicago, but I happen to find the people of Chicago to be some of the best I have ever met with the exception of those Okies found in Lawton Oklahoma. I also have to give credit to the population of Chattanooga TN. It is just so refreshing to find specific areas of a truly unique culture. I reckon, I am not a typical Texan, I don't root for the Dallas Cowboys or Houston Texans nor do I have a use for the Tenn. Titans, what can I say I love real people with individual qualities. The Cowboys and Texans are nothing more than money in uniform. Anyway, I need to return to the subject. Good education and continual education improves the quality of life. I am having a hard time studying my Greek History, my study questions and answers look like an amateur scholar's work. I can tell I have been put of college way too long. I look forward to the day I can continue on, I'd like to get my Bachelor's and PhD before I die. Dr. French told me ex-fellows have something to offer Academia. I am not sure exactly what this is we have. Our point-of-views are obscured by institutional effects and definitions on moral issues. What is not acceptable socially is taught herein. I am a devout heterosexual, to the institution I am a sexual deviant because homosexuality is the state's path of rehabilitation. Oh well, born a rebel die a rebel, but always true to the true.

October 14th, 2007

Lazy day, typed a little on Sugar Shack. Not much really going on.

October 15th, 2007

Captain Davis is gone, finally. Now maybe we'll get some meals worth the effort of eating. McQuire came from across the street to train the kitchen bosses on the proper way to run and cook in a kitchen. They have the Field Bosses and a couple of field squads going in to clean the kitchen up. Have a bad cold right now, lots of fever.

October 18th, 2007

A pretty good work week. I hate to work sick but I hate to lie around feeling twice as sick. The kitchen situation is going pretty good.

I was kicking it with Trey about old girlfriends, mainly one named Debbie. It's funny, we never really know what treasures we have until years later when we polish our tarnished copper. I am, if anything, aging with appreciation to the finer points of life. Money is grand, and so many people depend on it to make or break them, their relationships, and their spirituality. Money is nothing without grateful appreciations toward what can't be bought. I ponder my future plans as far as becoming something productive, useful and worthy to society. I've no doubt in the future of my craft one day, be it my novels or screenplays, I will have wealth. The real question is. What does society deserve of me. While it is certainly true that I committed a crime. It is also true that society as a whole hasn't gave a damn as to whether I live or die, I improve or get worse. So, why should I give of myself to improve the lives of others, others who are probably wishing I would suffer more.

So, why should I give a damn? A good question.

October 20th, 2007

I'm in a real psychotic mood this weekend. Perhaps it's just the alignment of some planetary phenomena or something. I'm to the point of no longer giving a fuck about anyone or anything to include my own spirituality. My writing of a testimony has shown me how far out in the left field I was standing. I'd like to think I've improved, but my question is why should I? I listen to a good Bob Segan tune and I think, damn, a good stripper could make that song really come to life. And then, why not make a few million and just live it up till I die. After all, as long as I follow the scriptural principles, I won't face spiritual disjunction.

I guess what I truly need to decide is, do I plan to spoil myself or spoil my enemies. I am leaning to my own desires, I mean hell, why care for people at all. I'm also leaning to complete mental severance to my ex-wife and kids. Since they don't want to know me, then I should just turn my back on them completely. From this day, I will no longer acknowledge those three people or their names.

Not a whole lot to really write, I'm just flat ass tired of fucking caring, period. I'm a writer, the only thing I should care about is the quality of my literature. Good movies and good novels, whether they ever get published or not, that is the only thing I should focus on. Then there is the music, it's strange, the places I know I will find some degree of peace won't involve people at all. I still ponder my farewell party, a couple bottles of good whisky, a bottle of sleeping pills and music. I could just go sit on the bridge, drink like a sailor and pop pills like a true junky and listen to the music, some Debbie Brothers, Bob Segan, Tom Piety, Heet Wood Mac and all the good artists. It sounds insane, but truthfully, it's a dream with at least one peaceful perspective, I would feel nothing forever more. Isn't this the true path we seek, the paradise of nothingness where time space and thought no longer ridicule the mind with the ultimate certainty? Who really cares who lives or dies? After a while we all die in memory so anything left for others is abused. Leave a fortune and those you leave it to will curse you at some time or another. Either we are sorry bastards who fucked people over to get our money or we procured it via some illegal scheme. And if we procured it via some legal means that required much energy and time, then you're considered a sorry piece of shit parent. If you don't leave people anything then you're just a social low-life, a leach on society. I already know, those whom I now disown will consider me a real loser because I wasn't man enough to overcome the demons of my own mind. In short, it really doesn't matter how I live or die, all will be forgotten and all will be hated even if you do something revolutionary good. Musicians are the only ones who receive honor, respect or love after they're dead. Jim Croce, Elvis, Lynard Skynard (the original), hell I even remember Andy Gibb. Anyway, long live the music.

October 21st, 2007

Often times, I see God as the Spielberg of the Universe directing the billions of movies in constant production. To see God in these terms, it is easy to see the eras of chronological movie evolution. All the creation stories have been told. All the great Knights Tales have been told, the rapid succession and staccato events of men recorded on some digitally mastered film with ultra-color and surround sound, the grand movie theater of horror, pain success failure justice vengeance and discovery. Yep, God the Great Producer/Director, oblivious to the emotional roller-coaster of human experiences. One thing I can't criticize about the continuum of human evolution there's always something going on somewhere to alleviate this His boredom. Each grand life with some unknown plot, the actors left to their devices to figure out what the ending will be.

October 22nd, 2007

Days come and go. For some, the thoughts of a day pass without a thought like the cast majority of their own, trash in trash out. Life is the most hated activity to a thinking man for there is no acceptable justification for our existence. This is a direct stab at contemporary religion. For a great intelligent all-inspiring God could not possibly excuse itself for the creation of a great ear-tick not heretic eartick, a large blue-gray tight skinned bloodsucking tick. Never mind the evolutionary theory of being poured scum. I once believed man to be a creature with a basically good nature, but, I have to admit, mankind is inherently evil, bent on the complete destruction of earth and to impress pain and suffering on each other. The minority, those who are of a truly good nature are exceptions or even mistakes to the rules of natural selection. So what do we or do I do. It seems as if the only way to actually succeed in this social behavior is to go with the flow. Screw the world, get what I want. Don't condemn homosexuality, play the game swing the bat a few times. Pretend to care about others as long as I get what I want. Was I wrong to divorce Donna because I didn't have the true feelings of compassion I know exist in the effects of true love? I suppose I should've rode the wagon until I had better options.

October 26th, 2007

For things to never change it seems everything changes. I hate the man I evolved into, but he has become a habit. The real man, the fool, is vulnerable and still believes in the good of nature to include people.

God no longer has anything to offer me. I no longer care if I even succeed. Why? What does one prove in succeeding. What rewards could possibly justify one continually struggling to beat the odds? Success is vanity, it is an attempt to elevate ourselves beyond what God has denied us. I am to be exactly what God has meant for me to be, nothing.

I should focus my last couple of years on doing what I know I can to get a simple job, buy a little piece of property and build a simple house. People will not want that which isn't worth stealing. Nothing is worth nothing, therefore no one will want it. Hell, I'm 45. I could always take care of my dog, my horse, sit on the porch or play around in the garden. My bestest friends could be liquid and smoke. A man who can stay drunk and stoned should be able to endure the only weakness that opens the door for failure: loneliness.

I want to learn how to play the guitar half decent. Who knows, maybe I'll try the fiddle too. I think I am crazy at times. I fight mentally to go against the flow and rise from these pits. Sometimes I even believe I could actually succeed. I'm actually just a fool damned.

October 28th, 2007

when I ponder my life and its basic development I am amazed I am even alive. I'm still trying to figure out why I'm even here, why I was even born. Never mind the religious bible thumping gurus, pastors, priests, ministers and the like. Lord knows, if there ain' a buck to be made in it they really don't care. But then, this is the fact of the world. Most religious people are like psychiatrists and psychologists, self-serving with a personalized opinionated agenda. All psychological professions should be separated from modern science and medicine for the simple reason, they lack the integrity of either profession. But then, the medical field has little integrity itself so psychological arenas might have a lot in common with medicine.

Anyway, neither of these two are friendly arenas toward me. As for religion, a game's a game. I speak mainly, because no one has shown me conclusive evidence that I am anything but just one more freak of nature or a mistake. Despite what my mother says, I don't believe she or that man who was supposed to be my dad really planned on my conception. I was the joke that mom took seriously and God has been laughing ever since.

So - why, at 45am I nothing more than the disgraced nothing I am. In retrospect, I clearly see I was not to be. I enjoyed gardening and animals as a child, but all children have dreams of growing a garden and owning a zoo I suspect. I enjoyed choir, but it too wasn't important. I was a damn good athlete football, track, the swim team, but again, it wasn't important. I made a mark in acting, ironically, the choir teacher and local newspaper noticed more than my own parents. I played Huck Finn, a secondary lead role in a musical but they didn't even bother coming to a show. I could easily blame my parents for my being here, in ways I've not even spoken of. But a man must study his own being, enquire upon the vents of his own life, the low and high points, the effective actions and actions of no reward. I blame myself for my failure because I failed to do one thing. I failed to do things for myself. I always tried to please others. I should've just been myself. But, I had not yet learned to be me, and where I did learn to be me, I discovered, I - me, was a weak cowardly geek. A fool that would allow others to fuck him over. I murdered that man, yet now, that is the man I desire to be. The one thing I have noted between the two men, the bastardly geek and the bastardly hateful animal I now am is, both were equally alone in this world. Neither had a friend. Neither had a family. Neither had or has a purpose in this life.

October 29th, 2007

When I think of life and death 
To be cursed and later blessed 
Relieved of the burden 
This grand Illusion 
Everything has a time and season 
So 'tis the conclusion with good reason 
All life, every endeavor vanity 
Fools in the courts of His majesty 
I, nothing more than His clown 
My melted smiles and head bowed down, 
But a clown just the same, 
Another face without a name, 
Created to entertain or amuse, 
With effort yet fated to lose, 
By Divine Design struggling on, 
Death will award me, my prize won, 
So it is in vain to believe. 
But what is life but a dream, 
A wicked dream of the Divine 
Enslaved we be in His heartless mind 
For in His joy to be acknowledged God 
We are nothing more than an amusing thought. 

October 30th, 2007

I must court my deviant side, that which enjoys seeing human beings in their natural ways. A stripper dancing to Paradise City. To smoke a doobie with CCR or Skyward booming. A fire-pit surrounded by so-called friends passing a bottle. Fishing poles set out in deep water without bait. People wrapped up in basic social interaction without concerns of human judgment. When did the world itself become so demanding for conformation? So few dare to think for themselves, to be themselves, to act as they were created to act. I battle daily this bastardly being lost in an insane egocentric cosmology. Some days I am lucky to recall who I was once. It is these days I recall the beauty of social circles, literally, the stainless steel podium and chrome throne, those old gas pumps at the Exxon station where I once found an aura of stylish antiquity in the later seventies. Ah - the good days go so fast.

October 31st, 2007

Halloween. I can't deny, it is harder to forget than just refusing to acknowledge certain people's existence in this world. There were two important birthdays this past month. Birthdays I once swore I'd never let slip past. Funny how weak I am to let the past go. Is it weakness or just stupidity. It's hard to say because I still believe in those three individuals. I still believe in that family that I once belonged.

Mental maintenance is the hardest thing to keep hold of. Hello Jackey Sollars if Fucking crazy. No! No I'm actually totally sane. No I'm actually not sure what the difference is between sane and insane. I'm angry I hate - I'm at peace and want to love. I'm lonely as hell. I want someone to talk to, to hold on to. No! I don't want to be around anyone. How do I make up my mind?

Oh well, I guess it really doesn't matter anymore.

November 1, 2007

This year is almost over. This is turkey month. We get to eat one day this month. The grass has finally quit growing which means ass-time, a few days off.

November 2nd, 2007

Didn't work today. Slept most of the day. Didn't really stop long enough to think unless I count my focus on Sugar Shack. That screenplay is good, but its structure bothered me because it had a fractured plot with a weak plot and another weak plot. It takes the two weak plots to make the movie, but weak doesn't make a good strong. I finally self-pitched some ideas to resolve the weak plots and unify the overall main plot. It is first and foremost, a prophetic love story or romance where the forces of the past guarantee the success of a couple's future. In short, two old moonshiners make a pact to bring their families together. This is a result of one subplot which is a bank robbery and subsequent chase. This chase gets entangled with elements of the second subplot. I finally was able to tie the weak strings together into a strong rope of events that would entertain and actually make sense. Now, I just need to retype it.

I look forward to the day I will be able to actually use a computer. Typewriters are not friendly. But then, I may not get a chance to sale a screenplay until I do get out. The movie industry is such a stiff-necked bunch of people. But then, that is the American standard of socialization, "If a person screws up - trash 'em and forget them." The rewards within the walls are great there just isn't any wise people in the world. A lot of times, I picture myself as a guppy fish in a bowl. I just don't want to entertain the world with the details of a deranged subculture. How can one describe two men acting like a heterosexual couple. One is a man, one is the woman (some even alternate the days) they fuck suck fight and cuddle. Both are HIV and some are full blown AIDS. You'd think they'd stop, but they don't. They want their disease to progress. They get attention and pity from the outside world. Many plan on spreading the disease further. Who would want to read such detestable and troubling facts.

Dope dealers and smugglers swap ideas and plan new ventures. The black man preaches his enslavement is the white man's attempt to destroy while they boast about how many white people they killed, raped or robbed before they got caught. And they plan their next rapes, robberies and murders. Is it any wonder I am not totally consumed with racism. I understand one fact, the natural merits of evolution.

November 3rd, 2007

It's been a long day but a peaceful one. Planned more on Sugar Shack. How I'd like to be sitting in my little house now with Chicago on the stereo. A little vodka and maybe a bottle of pills. Sometimes dieing seems so righteous.

January 27th, 2008

The day is at a close. I finished Wood's poetry in its entirety. 100 poems of totally confused thought. But, the beauty of writing is its therapeutic effect. I respect Wood's work for one reason above all. It is his effort to understand himself.

My dream one day of a lifestyle is. I wake up each day to a loving Chihuahua and Rottweiler friends. To cook a breakfast for them, to sit and eat with them, and to just enjoy the true love they would have for me. I'd like to have some special person in my life, but I can't believe or even consider that to be a possibility. People like to judge especially women and I'm n out pt becoming a gay. So, I'll settle for my dogs and a couple of horses. To live in an isolated little piece of property where I can tend to my garden. Between an oriental garden, some flower gardens, and a good vegetable garden, life should almost be fulfilling.

Oh - the music. I must have my music.

Well, the day is almost over and I still have an essay to write about "My favorite pet" which isn't an easy topic since I've had so many. But, the writing will be easy no matter what. Animals have always been dependable for companionship. They have open agendas and motivations but their love and loyalty is beyond human capability. No human can love as strongly as an animal. And we call them animals.

January 28th, 2008

What would you do Father Jehovah if you were me? How would you judge your so-called God? It is one thing to be a God quite another to depend on one, especially when the God doesn't listen. I'm tired of hoping, praying, and believing in a God of no action. Within your word you state we humans should always recall what you did for the children of Israel in the desert and Egypt. Perhaps Father Jehovah, those were the only tricks you could pull off. Do I tempt you? I hope not I'm just holding up the record of my own life. I didn't ask to be born, I didn't ask to be what I am in fact I didn't want to cross that line. Now that I failed, I'm sorry. What can you do that will change my life and make it worthwhile? I no longer believe you to be the great power which controls all things. I'm not Moses, Noah, David, or any Apostle. Perhaps if I were you would be true to your words, to your promises.

3:14 A.M.

The day has begun. Woke up this morning wishing I could just get drunk and forget to stop drinking. There still exist within me a spirit. A spirit of self destruction, a part of me that wants to do a suicide cocktail. The irony of it all is I can't think of no good reason to not do it. I guess I'm a coward at the thought but who knows if I can drink enough, get drunk enough that I might actually be strong enough to take the pills.

What can I say? It's a Monday but my life seems to have only one day of the week: Mondays.

3:22 A.M.

Today I will get my tags tacked up in the large warehouse. I should be done except for the actual physical count. Maybe that will be my focus to get the count straight (if possible).

8:57 A.M.

The day is about at an end. It has been a fair day. I've been in a zone today. I woke up with an epiphany. "God is gay." He is the Father of Evil and loves those who do evil. A striving individual of faith is just wasting our time. Let Jehovah be a witness to himself and let His son stand or fall on His own words. I do not tempt to test Jehovah, I'm just tired of believing in empty promises. Well, if I die before I wake may Jehovah be at least faithful in the salvation in Christ Jesus. I have little faith to hold onto but I do believe Christ at least tried to do right.

January 31st, 2008

Feel kind of laid back. I slept hard. In fact I slept hard the last two nights and felt drugged out totally exhausted. I'm still tired. Rumor has it that we are going on lockdown Monday. We should be so lucky. I could use a vacation. I almost have the warehouse in somewhat workable condition. The way they have it set up it isn't work friendly. There is just too much wasted space. A good example is the sheet metal. It is scattered over three hundred square feet where it could easily be stowed in about sixty square feet. So that will be one change that will come when the time is mine. Well it's almost time to head that way so I'll shut it down at 4:56. Good - day!

February 1st, 2008

Slept fairly well. Not thinking a whole lot these days. Between being frustrated at the lack of Divine Influence and life in a forced integration of culture. I am firmly convinced or settled on the fact of my life. I am a racist. I was never comfortable with the feelings brought on by the very basic definition of racism. Myself, I can care less what color or nationality a person is. I'm not racist because I have delved into the very essence of the word. Sure it's easy to say I hate a man because of the color of skin and for many, that is the end of the relationship among races.

However, I am confident in my perspective of the cultural divide. I don't mind a person's color or culture as long as that culture doesn't encroach upon my part of this world which is a very small part. For the most part, I detest anyone who tries to, or allows. Or deliberately coerces their culture upon my culture. Black isn't the issue. The issues are in the overall character of the individual. For example, I have no desire to listen to loud music or at least not to the point of annoying people around me especially in confined areas. Yet some people not only feel this their right but believe others must listen to their stereo. Is it a coincidence that the only music I hear out loud is either rap or the so-called soul music. I haven't heard anything come out of those genres worth listening to. Soul music has become nothing more than groans and scream fest, how many octaves can I hit when I sing each word. Anyway, again it's of personal taste and culture. Some people have no sense of community or respect. Maybe I'm just a nickpicker.

February 2nd, 2008

Slept all day not a whole lot to say. Just not motivated. It's a sad state of affairs where God can't do anything to make life better even if He did. I can honestly say God can no longer give me anything. I have nothing of this world and I know longer want anything of this world.

March 22nd, 2008

Very lazy day. I should have gotten some typing done but I fear I'm getting too comfortable with this life. It is a very dangerous thing to become institutionalized. I have so much to do toward the future. I have the castle walls to build that I may be safe against the worlds. I'm thinking great thick walls of a foot or more of stone locked together with iron bars so that they'll never give. The outer wall should be no less than twelve feet high if not higher. Twelve feet in today's standards isn't very high. Perhaps eighteen feet would be more appropriate. How ironic that I talk of a castle and suddenly they play Gordon Lightfoot's song "If You Could Read My Mind."

"Just like an old time move/ 'bout a ghost in a wishing well/ In a castle dark / A fortress smong with chains upon my feet./ You know that ghost is me."

It always seems as if God knows our thoughts and can best express them. It was hard to recall all the words but they do say it all.

How many will be blind to what is coming? I had a dream of a great flood last night. A torrential rain that dumped several feet of water in only minutes. The world could not hold up. I survived as I know I will for these things must come to pass. The end of this age for the new age to come.

March 24th, 2008

I wonder what happened to things, this life, this world, the people. How could, only 30 years ago could life mean so much and hold so much promise? There was a world of hope and more reasons to persevere than to give up. What once was a world full of possibilities has dwindled down to just a valley a world away from this world. I always saw this end even as a teenager and I wrote my first novel about an Ice Age that came unexpectedly. Now the world faces not only that frigid end but also great tribulations before that cold end. I'm honored to know, Yahweh will bless me with sweet death in my doing what He has brought me through this world to be. A shepherd of His masses, His chosen, the one's whom He will receive. I shall not see that day, but I shall know His people for a short time. This world is soon to pass into the next era old things, corrupt things will cease to exist. All things will become new and pure.

March 25th, 2008

The one truth of this world I have come to grasp is the people we believe are most apt to fuck us over or cut our throats are usually the ones that we care depend the most on during our trials and tribulations and the people we believe in the most will be the one's that abandon us. The guy in 8 Below probably coined it the best "sometimes we have to lower our expectations." Perhaps this is the lessons of life. In my observation, I choose to be one of those that shows little of any concern. Better to be a stranger without people expecting anything than to be a friend and expected to care too much. I have my purpose, my duty. Thanks Yahweh I don't have to waste any emotions in carrying out my responsibilities. I know most of this world will die off. It only stands to reason that I will see many die that Yahweh tried to save. It's not my duty to cry or lose sleep I will have the masses as one to deal with.

March 26th, 2008

Slept hard all night. Early morning, wide awake. Had to make a note to self about the Castle D. I should make the best us e of napalm in its construction. It isn't enough to know that even though I won't be inviting to the world. The world often times has a way of inviting itself into my personal affairs. It may come to a time where I will have to fight just to remain autonomous from society.

Just come in from work. Why I chose to do some doodling I have no idea. A word about our vision of the moon. Just because we can't see it, that doesn't mean it's not there. It has been a decent day. I got quite a bit done. Been busy but not too bad. Trey offered me some snapshots of some butt naked flesh showing gals. I'd like to say they sparked my masculinity but I can't. there is only been a few in his world that has ever done that. And these days there is only one woman that I ever think of that I actually see as totally sexy with or without clothes on. What we lose in following sin into pits. Oh well, I'll never get over that woman, but, at least I have her memory.

Boss just walked around passing out mail. I can't remember where I really got a letter that just made me feel alive. Mom's letters are religiously critical and beating because I don't follow her church's doctrine. The lat time I went this long without mail and became so lonely was in '98. After 3 years of hearing nothing from Sory I thought I could move on. I was just about lying to myself and wanting to be not just known but actually cared about. I can't say Donna was really a bad woman. She was a woman bent on surviving and not really picky about what man she could find. But no woman should ever have to settle for an inmate. Anyway, I learned a lot about myself with the Donna fiasco. I'm not like the average SCHMOE. I can't just up and not care, move on and let the past go. When I gave my heart to the one I love I gave it for life. I really don't know how I got so damn screwed up in the head to do the things I done just stupid I guess. But, my personal emotions are just a taste of the times to come and I thank God. I understand. I know that where the day comes to stand and fight for those I either are for or God's has entrusted onto me. I can stand bravely knowing that death will be my reward, my peace. Where one has only loneliness to live for, they can afford to take chances, stand until there is no more hope. There is one type man more dangerous than a wounded cougar backed into a corner. That is, a man who's happiness can only be found where they are fighting so others can live and the end of the fight will be their own death. To lie dying knowing your last breath is being used to welcome what they could never find in life: happiness or peace.

March 27th, 2008

Been awake since 1:00. Actually about 12:50 give or take a few seconds. Had a fairly nice pleasant dream. The dream ended by me and someone else getting into a car with a couple of women both decent looking and caring.

March 28th, 2008

It has been another busy day not much time to sit and think. But! I'm ahead of everything at work. The Kiaros Walk began yesterday so things are buttoned up. Not to mention the fact that this security card is 40 to 50% understaffed which means inmates outnumber the officers by about 90 to 1. It is a definite volatile situation. Haven't done much writing here lately. I'm just losing motivation. I am putting it in prayer. The way I see it. God has a purpose for me so let God do the work. I've tried to be a positively productive person and I've received NO help whatsoever from God. So, if He wants me to be some type of shepherd, let Him provide it all.

March 29th, 2008

Whom I to bother contemplating some great plan of salvation to a remnant of a nation? Who do I think I am? I am but one man, a cursed man at that. To add to this, why should I myself even give a damn about the general population of this nation? It is easy for me to survive, to walk into a desert, a swamp, a jungle or mountain, even a war zone is a little challenge. This isn't my first rodeo, in time past before. This time I walked bloody fields, swam in bloody ocean waters, felt the fire of hot lead, smelled scorched flesh. I'm not crazy for by all rights, the understanding I have of human nature now, that nature to which I fall prey to way too often, has never changed throughout the millennia. Women have never changed and men have never learned.

Why do I contemplate the potential situations of a near future, to even think or consider helping people in general when they have desired nothing but to harm me? Why? Am I a fool? Yes, a fool of faith. My allegiances are to God and a very select few people all of whom are locked away as I am. I pledge my allegiance to the Almighty whether He chooses to help me or not. For one judgment day, when I will be judged for whatever I may be judged. Let the Divine scales of justice not be blind to the good I have willfully chosen to do. God claims to be just and fair. Then one judgment day, I leave upon the just and fair God.

I'll not turn my back on anyone God directs me to or is directed to me. But as I have discussed it with T. Just because I am to be at the lead, responsible for God's people doesn't mean I have to ever become emotionally or physically involved with anyone. The perfect soldier is loose of all worldly effects.

Perhaps I am insane. But, if my insanity builds a mountains for others to survive in. there let my laugher end, let my love for all grow cold and let my life's work lead me to a quick death.

March 30th, 2008

Woke up with a commissary bag full of food on my floor. I volunteered to cook Wolf's, Jolly's and Trey's birthday meal but I didn't expect to cook half the commissary. But, I'm not mad. It's good to do some good. Had a chance to really talk with Wolf about meat processing. There I cornered Rick to try to get him to open up. I know how it is to do time. I also know how it is to let time do you. He seems to think he is the only one who has come to the end of his rope. I had to browbeat him with the fact, he wasn't alone. He irony about time is, it is an empty taskmaster. As long as we believe time exist we are controlled by the consuming guilt that we are being left out abandoned and forgotten, which is partly true. Time is much like love, an illusion.

Went to Kiaros 4th day ceremony. I had honestly given it up. But, I decided to go just for the hell of it. I recall my walk and the two times I've been a steward in a walk. Kiaros is a wonderful event. It shows the natural abilities of man to get along with man where the influences of this world are taken out of the equation. The world can be a truly wonderful place where the single element of unconditional love. The only sad part of it all is, the world doesn't evolve around such a fantastical mind set. Truly! Man doesn't have the ability to promote such a world. Love is not emotions that can be sustained by any individual no matter what we claim. Kiaros people pursue a Christ-like love and the so-called Christian love whatever that love is. Unfortunately, even the best of the best Christians are humane. Therefore their love is self serving "They want to go to the world of tomorrow rather than eternal damnation." I can't nor am I mad at them. The sins of this world and all who have judged me is so much greater than myself. And, they have the added burden of secrecy. Sin carries with it, the chain of condemnation bound to the weight of guilt but it is the lock of public shame that keeps us from walking upright. To justify our own sins, we just simply point out the sins of others.

I used to, and probably to a degree still do, point the finger but I'm not as bad as I once was. And for the most part, the only ones that anger me now is the truly worthless, those who have social issues and know it but don't ever try to change. Truly, our only purpose on this Earth is to increase in knowledge by overcoming all the desires of the flesh.

March 31st, 2008

The days been nice. Quiet, somewhat confusing at times but productive all the same. Had a crazy dream last night. I saw a big hand reach through space, its fingers touched Earth and the world began to shake. The United States became divided by a massive geologic rift along the Mississippi river. This rift destroyed the water supply from Minnesota to the Gulf of Mexico while destroying hundreds of square miles down through the valley. The only way to cross this volcanic rift was by aircraft. There was other major changes but there, this is just some doomsday dream. Will life go on? Hmm only the wise I suspect.

April 1st, 2008

April Fool's. It started out like one too. Some punk got stuck out during chow unable to get back to his cell and a guard found a dummy under his blanket. It wasn't an attempted escape just more ludicrous ignorance. Woke up to find a letter from Gary at Prisoner Express. Thanks for reading a mad man's thoughts. I'm sure it tests your patience.

Work went so-so. Kind of chaotic.

The more I ponder the future. The more I feel at ease with what is to come. There is the dread that accompanies all change. But not all change is bad. I'm tired, so the best thing to do is crash. I've a parting thought of the day I give respect to the old communes of past literary genius! Their only flaw in trying to attain a utopian society was their lack of understanding in economic stability. If any commune of Divine Inspiration is to survive or flourish. One must completely eliminate the greed factor. No social institution can succeed with greed. Greed is the downfall of the United States. Greed was the stumbling block of the Soviet Union. A commune can succeed but each person involved must be pro-active in its economic foundation. This is not to say everyone must pay their part. It is a divine truth that everyone is endowed with special skills or talents. Our misconception is, we put dollar values on everyone and everything. A man who enjoys and has a natural ability to say garden, raise livestock, metalwork, or every musical talent or skills shouldn't be held accountable for a large financial responsibility. And, a person blessed with natural skills or a talent that reaps a bountiful harvest shouldn't be responsible for all financial transactions. This equation is what derails all nations. But in a commune, according to the Divine Being. He who can afford should put forth the totality of a financial burden. I agree. Soon, I will be of great wealth. I believe in the true concept of communism. That being, the burdens of all should be placed on the shoulders of the strong without profiteering.

April 2nd, 2008

"I am a rock I am an island." Patience and perseverance will move a mountain, build a fortress. The foundations of any advancing civilization is found in the individual's ability to forgive the past and forget the pains of that past. That's not to say we ignore history. To forget one's past is counterproductive to one's spiritual evolution. I can not only understand the acts of say sexual or physical abuse from both sides. For too long I allowed my past to rule my own actions which eventually had me doing the things I not only was ashamed of, but also detested. Suppression of tragic events are as doctorial as one that wallows in their own victimization. As a man, it was and still is at times hard to acknowledge the things I was made to do. A man is a beast under the burden of social expectations in that if we are victimized, we are not suppose to cry or even admit that we allowed others to do certain. As a child, I had little power to stop the oral and sodomizing abuse. I let that shame simmer within and even today I don't tell even if asked. However, after I became the abuser it wasn't for pleasure or power but in a sick sort of way considered it all as an act of love. Prison is where I learned the violent side of sexual abuse. A man can only fight and fend off so long and often as in my case the fight was unending for shear numbness will eventually overpower. My only consolation, I fought, I put up the good fight, I did it alone, and like it or not it is a part of life of my past that I cannot forget. But, what doesn't kill us will make us either stronger or weaker. The end result being in direct proportion to our personal mind set. It's easy to be weak, to cry and to hold that pain in. What makes it different for me is, I had to go through it alone, survive it alone, and had to overcome that stigma. For years now I have enjoyed the power of my own strength to overcome that physical strength becoming spiritual strength. There are no excuses for acts of sexual abuse be they passive or violent but at the same time, to overcome these actions as a social curse we must deal with them in a public way not to shame but intervene.

March 3rd, 2008

Yeah I'm sittin' fancy free. Even though I love her still. She'd be no good to me. If I hold her against her will. Even though that girl, was the best part of my world. I'm sittin' here free alone with all my dreams.

Nothing like a song to put things in perspective. Yep. And some songs just hit the nail right on the head to seal a coffin.

It is soon to be the age of Gemini, a time of dual lifestyles and purposes. We are born to be something. Unfortunately we never really grasp what it is we are suppose to be or try to achieve. The first novel I ever wrote which ended up in the trash after I walked away from the army dealt with the subject of what will soon be a real world issue. It's ironic that what I wrote to be just a fictional tale is or will become a reality. Sometimes we can't escape our destinies especially where it is written in stone. Believe in those things that aunt your mind that lurk in every shadowy precipice of the head. The quiet voice that narrates our dreams of confusion. I once believed in such things. Before life filled me with such evils which is common to this world. When we strip ourselves of our own illusion o being, we become children, frightened of all things that we once thought would hurt us. Funny, in growing old the child within holds fast to the fears we have already survived. What is pain? It is our own ways of life in the casual evolutionary effect.

April 4th, 2008

I wish I were intelligent, knowledgeable, and wise. Of all the things I know, all is questionable since all knowledge was founded on man's speculative and collective process. First comes a theory upon which all human supposition is built until we come to a time when the theory either is proved wrong or the theory becomes a step in some other more complex theory.

If I know something, I simply recognize that theory it is our error to only believe in what we see or come to recognize the theory. I desire to know those things that have no theory nor do they have materialistic mass. What I would really want to come to know is the mechanisms that make this world exist. Gravity? Is it gravity we deal with or pressure. I'm inclined to see the trappings of pressure and its effects upon all things. If I seem blinded by some obvious supposition, my eyes open to an obvious disposition. Gravity, if exist must have a fundamental compound bound by magnetism within each and every creature or stone or plant upon this Earth or else all life as we know it would simply float off into space. Gravity there is not an acceptable theory but rather a theory we are content in believing in. it is always easier to accept an unexplainable phenomenon to which no one in science has explained. My argument is simple, if we understood and knew the key mechanisms of gravity, we could build upon the non-gravitational aspect.

April 5th, 2008

My only prayer these days is that God will put me to a busy schedule which won't allow me much time to think or be lonely. Perhaps He will give me this one prayer. I don't mind being alone as long as I've no time to think about it.