Letter 92

October 19, 2011

Dear Mom,

Responding to your letter of October 16th is a task so complex in form that I may not be able to adequately answer all the topics this caused to come to my mind. I will explain as best I'm able, though. I've had no sleep to speak of for more than 48 hours now, I'm still afflicted with being unable to breathe like others, and, to top it all off, witnessed during a fire drill early this morning the guards being totally lost as to what to do! Keystone kops routine, badly. So, hopefully you are well and your back issues aren't troubling your mind much.

Though I've already expressed how I'm doing, I'll lay it out as plainly as possible for the impaired censors: I'm sick and don't feel secure with these idiots and their keys in charge of my well being. I'd belabor my point more stressfully but can't come up with a method for truly being forthright about these morons. What it comes down to, after the cosmetics are removed, is the job they do works best when all is as expected; throw any tiny bit of a crisis at them and they are completely clueless, however.

Basically, the largest adversity I face comes down to the spelling of the word "acceptance:" I tend to spell the word "exceptance" instead; I mean, they sound alike, right? Things like waking us up from sound sleep (here I refer to others) to be crowded into a narrow hall for 45 minutes inspires in me a spirit of complete cooperation...NOT! If there actually were a fire we would all be cooked through in the time it took them to act.

About the classes, I've got virtually no chance of switching into some actual educational ones until/unless I'm through with the Therapeutic Community course. What I have in mind to pursue as a method for providing income for myself is a writing career. I don't expect to be taken as the greatest thing since sliced bread at first. That will occur in stages...or not, as fate has it in store. I'm not looking for access to large amounts of cash in any case, as I feel that would be detrimental to both my recovery and my life.

I've already stated my position with regards to recreational reading material but may have ignored the issue unintentionally. While I am getting more free time, others are getting more seriously re percussive. I deal with it writing letters, as I've got no other option than passing the huge jagged kidney stone represented by this issue. I'm ahead of the learning curve on that, I suppose.

Likely the biggest rub here is the fact that due to the rapid turnover rate the only real information I'm exposed to comes from counselors nearly senile...they remember prohibition, in some cases, and so forth. They are unqualified, and in many cases just wrong, for the tasks set before them. So you see the state of my state, hopefully. A large and growing source of dissatisfaction/unrest with me. I don't likely have anywhere near their experience in the field of counseling, but I do know when I'm being jerked around. It is probably difficult for the counselors too, having to adjust themselves to the current generation of addicts/alcoholics/criminals.

My former celly is no longer my celly. He had a pre-existing medical condition that he had just begun to be treated for at South Florida, was moved here and promptly forgotten. I wrote Renelle about it more in depth and she will get that letter about the time you get this. I need to tend to the business of cleaning this cell better than it is so I don't seem slovenly. That is the approximate size and shape of the situation with me, for now.

Much love and regards,
James