Letter 22

April 25, 2011

Dear Renelle,

Incarcerated due to circumstances I failed to maintain a grip on, I've become a modern-day cave dweller, one might argue with accuracy. Were I given my druthers, I'd be sharing my life with only a handful of people: my daughter at the top of the list (if she would have it), and it wouldn't cause any unnatural behaviors/thoughts. Additionally (stated here for posterity), as permanent an arrangement as is possible. Keeping in mind my propensity for attracting all types of drama without realizing it, this decision would not be entered into lightly. Due consideration of any impropriety likely to be sensed must be weighed against what at this point is a purely one-sided beneficial set-up. In plain language, we would have to weigh cautiously what others might think before committing ourselves, and we'd have to think about the long as well as short term goals and hinderances.

Now it's Monday, April 25th, and again I feel I make time tougher to get through than need be by far. I became enraged impotently this morning when I heard the guy that collects our grievances daily walking out the door. He wasn't heard to announce himself, so I flashed on what my lack of impulse control would lead to, but I was already too far gone. 

This is important to me, as it was the same type of reaction, on a minimized scale, that led to my arrest back on Thanksgiving, 2009. By fits and starts, haltingly I became aware of my predicament: I was halfway to safety, across a river frozen over and thawing, over a sure death by drowning! Either I was going to live, or die--no in between. 

I need to reduce my situation to terms that are more analogous in order to make my choice (being as I've got such an intense pull toward pushing the envelope that keeps life in my body), in order to make a wise choice. So here it is four hours after, and I'm already writing "calmly"--a fairly revealing account of myself, I'd say.

I finished Thomas Perry's sequel to The Butcher's Boy, Sleeping Dogs, yesterday and was left with a distinctly different afterthought than intended by the author, I believe. You'd need to read at least the second book to really understand what I mean, but the guy leaves his books so open to interpretation at the end of them, I found myself thinking one of the men on the "good guys" team was actually a "bad guy"-sleeper, who wakes up to who he is really when the book ended.

What with school, writing, and the devastatingly interesting way it goes here, I'm only 1/2 done with "Twist." I don't think I'll redo it, as Dickens' particular way of writing is what I'd change, and that's what makes him the great author that he is. Besides, with all the other trivial clutter that makes up my existence here, I don't have the time to devote to it now.

Regarding school work, I've taken it as far as I'm going to, until I speak with a teacher about it. What I don't get is how advanced trig or scientific notation comes easily to me, but simple geometry doesn't. I mean, I used to be a passable pool player--which I understand uses the principles of that discipline almost exclusively--but as far as recalling the different proofs and theorems, I'm lost, in the dark while being hunted. It's just not good.

As a footnote, I don't want to come off like I'm an ordinary man who just happened to walk into this situation, because most truly, I'm not! There's almost nothing ordinary about me, and fewer than usual ordinary things about the situation here. I did overhear a guard say something that may go toward explaining some stuff going on here lately. He mentioned a "new" warden and col. coming around. I don't care about that so much, but I do vehemently wish the one running the kitchen would find himself unemployed ASAP! He did it again Easter Sunday!

I'm at the limit of another letter. I'm not nice, friendly, or much of a "people person," but wry, sardonic, and agitated.

Your witty friend,

James