Letter 87

October 5, 2011

Dear Mom,

First and foremost, please accept my profuse apologies for thinking the worst case scenario of you. Now, moving beyond my humiliating evident need to grovel...let me also state that I had forgotten about your telling me about your plans to attend the reunion; but I'm really glad it worked out so well for you. I'm quite busy, with being moved into and out of dorms here. Three times I've been unsettled and counting. At any rate, hopefully my business is behind me and it will become less chaotic for me now.

The "shakedown" is still an act I must endure daily through the week with the only difference being that now we are fairly able to tell when they are doing it and act accordingly. It is really too bad about the searches being daily but at least they aren't random and arbitrary.

About the educational opportunities here...I've been forced into a box that is shrinking on me while being filled with toxic gas. That is the best way of describing what it feels like to be in this "Therapy Community" program. Although, today I had the highest score out of everyone in the morning class as far as knowledge about different ways drugs affect people. Sad that I know that information through experience rather than book-learning. Still, there is little point in forcing me to relive parts of my past in the class; but to get out of it would mean being sent to another institution so I think I will just man-up and do it.

I'm especially happy that you and Jesus got in contact. He really is one of a kind. I ought to send him another letter soon. I'm going to let the craziness abate here more first, though. I'm proof-positive that lightning will strike many times in the same location. I mean, as far as getting a celly I get along with.

It is easier and better here by far compared to any other prison I've been in, and a bit sadly even better than Suwannee with Jesus. Although my opinion is that due to no fault of his own, much of the world remains the same for him as it was during the 1980's when he began the sentence he has now completed. I feel, after speaking to him, that it is a miracle he functions and relates to others as well as he does considering what he has been through. I feel especially pulled to be a voice for those not in a position to have one and to make the words count for something of value in places like the capital. That is more of a reality than we know, I believe.

I have to go to my classes now so I need to put this on hold. Now we smurfs in the class are told collectively by the counselors and peer-therapists that we represent the brightest, sharpest group to enter the program as far as anyone can remember...period. High praise indeed, if not empty flattery.

I need to start thinking about exit-strategy more and how to come out of experiences wiser than I entered into them. Not just surviving but truly overcoming and even mastering on occasion. Otherwise, the knowledge/experience I've got counts for nil only because I'm not able to demonstrate it outwardly. So I'm able to string random words together to put in the mail...big fat deal is how I feel I rate at this point journalistically by the world's views. I do feel I've calmed down considerably during the time I've been in prison, whether that is naturally occurring or due to the environment. I'm unsure about this.

Before I wrap this up, I'll do my best to answer some questions you asked me: No, this isn't anything like the South Park series on T.V. although it is always cold here because the entire facility is indoors. Air-conditioned, relatively clean and well maintained....but not wet from either rain or snow. The guards here are cut from a better fabric than the ones at the D.O.C. camp, generally, and are much more aware and responsive to the needs of the individuals. This also means that it is much more difficult by far to talk them into or out of something. I'm sure I don't know all the loopholes yet and don't intend to find out either, as knowledge of that kind is more dangerous to me than useful. Everything was taken from me.

Much love and regards,
James