4 months down, many many more to go. I have but one thought on my mind right now: I miss you so much. There still isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about you, that I don't pray for you and your family in addition to anything else, asking God to be taking good care of you, as I know He is. But I still can't help but miss you. A LOT.
And the worst part of it is, I don't think anyone truly is able to comprehend just how I feel deep in my heart. I know a lot of us all miss you deeply, but to have been there in some of your last waking hours, to have been driving the car and wishing to be able to alter one little moment in time to make things different, to have you here. I acknowledge that I can't think this way and that fate laughs at probabilities, but I just miss you terribly and I always will.
There will always be a huge part of my heart filled with our memories, your laughter and smiles and as I continue my life, I will always be thinking of you in everything I do and strive for.
I find myself eating foods I know you like to eat and taking preference to your favorite color. I see random things that remind me of you and I can't help but feeling that pang inside my heart. I'm grateful for all that I've learned and how I've grown through all of this, and how I've gotten this opportunity to improve relations with my parents because they deserve nothing less, and I'm going to make the most of my life from here on out and truly live for a greater purpose, but still. I'd trade it all in a heartbeat for you to come back if I could. But I can't. Some things are just beyond my control. I just hope you are peaceful and still always smiling out there.
I miss you always.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
(out of order sorry) 17 weeks: Being a bookworm
I don't really have much to write about. These past few days, I have been so caught up in the books I'm reading that they have taken me, mentally, to an entirely different place. Dan Brown has written some A-M-A-Z-I-N-G books - insightful and thought provoking, yet written in a way that's always keeping you in just the right amount of suspense.
"White Boy" who lives in my wing, said to me the other day that I'm always reading. What else am I supposed to do? Certainly not involve myself in the regular prison drama or go find girlfriends to sneak around with when guards aren't around!
I'm glad I get the time to read all the books I've always wanted to read but never had enough time to, and more. Can't let my brain rot away during my stay! If only I had a more comfortable bed or nice cushioned couches as opposed to plastic chairs to sit on. After a while, my butt huts like a!#$Q@#!
I swear, when I get out, I will kiss the couches I sit on and thank God each night for the bed I sleep on! Amongst many other things I will have an extreme deep appreciation for. I know, things could be a lot worse and I'm grateful for conditions that are fairly tolerable. Although, it's still on the majorly sucky side and far far from pleasant.
"White Boy" who lives in my wing, said to me the other day that I'm always reading. What else am I supposed to do? Certainly not involve myself in the regular prison drama or go find girlfriends to sneak around with when guards aren't around!
I'm glad I get the time to read all the books I've always wanted to read but never had enough time to, and more. Can't let my brain rot away during my stay! If only I had a more comfortable bed or nice cushioned couches as opposed to plastic chairs to sit on. After a while, my butt huts like a!#$Q@#!
I swear, when I get out, I will kiss the couches I sit on and thank God each night for the bed I sleep on! Amongst many other things I will have an extreme deep appreciation for. I know, things could be a lot worse and I'm grateful for conditions that are fairly tolerable. Although, it's still on the majorly sucky side and far far from pleasant.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
19 weeks: Didn't your mommy teach you violence isn't the answer?
I was just going through my day as usual today when a big commotion broke out. Inmates ran to see what the fuss was about as the guards ran over and called for backup. A fight, what else. This time it happened right on my wing. Luckily, I was out in the public area room at the time.
Apparently, a lady in my wing was having a verbal argument earlier in the day where she spit in the other woman's face. So, angry as she was, being spit on, she barged into my wing and started beating the lady up with a lock. She took the lock and repeatedly hit her on the head with it. The lady on my wing did not fight back. Good choice, because if she had, she'd not only be going to lock but can kiss her chances for going home soon goodbye. The other woman will be receiving an entirely new assault with a weapon charge. I'm guessing that's like 5 years?
What craziness. Not that I haven't seen my own share of fights before coming to prison, because I have, but definitely not as frequently. And this is only the women's prison. I don't even want to begin to imagine what goes on amongst the men.
What can't we all just get along? Not possible, I know. But why can't we act like grown adults and either work out our problems in a mature fashion or simply let it go because it isn't worth fighting for. And definitely not worth staying in prison longer for. Love and peace, guys! =) If only it were so.
5 hours later: wow, another fight just broke out. What the hell is going on?!
Apparently, a lady in my wing was having a verbal argument earlier in the day where she spit in the other woman's face. So, angry as she was, being spit on, she barged into my wing and started beating the lady up with a lock. She took the lock and repeatedly hit her on the head with it. The lady on my wing did not fight back. Good choice, because if she had, she'd not only be going to lock but can kiss her chances for going home soon goodbye. The other woman will be receiving an entirely new assault with a weapon charge. I'm guessing that's like 5 years?
What craziness. Not that I haven't seen my own share of fights before coming to prison, because I have, but definitely not as frequently. And this is only the women's prison. I don't even want to begin to imagine what goes on amongst the men.
What can't we all just get along? Not possible, I know. But why can't we act like grown adults and either work out our problems in a mature fashion or simply let it go because it isn't worth fighting for. And definitely not worth staying in prison longer for. Love and peace, guys! =) If only it were so.
5 hours later: wow, another fight just broke out. What the hell is going on?!
Still 18 weeks: Just doing my best one day at a time
"Life is like poker. You don't get the hand that you want dealt to you all the time, and you just have to play the hand that you are dealt and play it to the best of your abilities." - Doyle Brunson
The question everyone wants answered is "How are you, how are you REALLY?" So I'm going to try my best to answer that. First off, today I had a great visit from two of my girls so I'm feeling simply splendid. I definitely needed the pick-me-upper today since the full moon apparently is making women here extra rowdy and a little crazier than usual. There's nothing better than getting away for an hour or two and seeing loved ones whom you miss so dearly.
Some days I'm especially cheerful and other days I find it difficult not to crawl in a hole and cry. I'm a mixture of every emotion that exists. Overall, I'm managing as well as I can (although more mail and visits can never hurt =] ). I'd be lying if I said I was completely great, but that's a little impossible for anyone in these circumstances and surroundings. But more importantly, I feel that I'm stronger than I've ever been in my life and I fully acknowledge this time as one of life's hardships I have to get through as well as a time for growing and healing. I've been through worse, especially the accident, and somehow made it out even when I thought I never would, but I'm happy in knowing that no matter what happens, good or bad, I can get through it. I'm just hoping there will be some good coming up because let's face it - the bad sucks ass!!
I'm not saying that prison is easy, because it is FAR from. But I know I'll be OK in the end with the continued love and support from family and friends. And I know there's a new and improved life waiting ahead. One that's more selfless, far more meaningful to me and one I appreciate greatly.
Nothing in life is perfect and we certainly never always get what we want and that's what makes most of us never seem to be content with what we have, always wanting more. I would have done anything to leave with my friends today after visits if even to just spend a little more time with them, but I know it isn't an option. I wish everyday I wasn't stuck behind barbed wire with the states criminals, but there isn't anything I can do about that either. Mostly, I want to go back in time and bring my friend back to life, but I can't.
All I can do is try hard not to dwell on those things, no matter how difficult it may be, and appreciate all that I'm given in the present entirely and do the best with it that I possibly can day by day, a little at a time, and that's what I'm learning to do.
As for today, I'm thankful for my visit, I'm thankful for getting through another day here and I'm thankful for family and friends and that they are remaining healthy and well. I'm doing my best and I think considering the circumstances, it's pretty damn well. Tomorrow's another day though, but I believe I'll somehow make it through OK too, even if I know I'll be waking up in prison. What can a girl do though? Sweet dreams and good night.
The question everyone wants answered is "How are you, how are you REALLY?" So I'm going to try my best to answer that. First off, today I had a great visit from two of my girls so I'm feeling simply splendid. I definitely needed the pick-me-upper today since the full moon apparently is making women here extra rowdy and a little crazier than usual. There's nothing better than getting away for an hour or two and seeing loved ones whom you miss so dearly.
Some days I'm especially cheerful and other days I find it difficult not to crawl in a hole and cry. I'm a mixture of every emotion that exists. Overall, I'm managing as well as I can (although more mail and visits can never hurt =] ). I'd be lying if I said I was completely great, but that's a little impossible for anyone in these circumstances and surroundings. But more importantly, I feel that I'm stronger than I've ever been in my life and I fully acknowledge this time as one of life's hardships I have to get through as well as a time for growing and healing. I've been through worse, especially the accident, and somehow made it out even when I thought I never would, but I'm happy in knowing that no matter what happens, good or bad, I can get through it. I'm just hoping there will be some good coming up because let's face it - the bad sucks ass!!
I'm not saying that prison is easy, because it is FAR from. But I know I'll be OK in the end with the continued love and support from family and friends. And I know there's a new and improved life waiting ahead. One that's more selfless, far more meaningful to me and one I appreciate greatly.
Nothing in life is perfect and we certainly never always get what we want and that's what makes most of us never seem to be content with what we have, always wanting more. I would have done anything to leave with my friends today after visits if even to just spend a little more time with them, but I know it isn't an option. I wish everyday I wasn't stuck behind barbed wire with the states criminals, but there isn't anything I can do about that either. Mostly, I want to go back in time and bring my friend back to life, but I can't.
All I can do is try hard not to dwell on those things, no matter how difficult it may be, and appreciate all that I'm given in the present entirely and do the best with it that I possibly can day by day, a little at a time, and that's what I'm learning to do.
As for today, I'm thankful for my visit, I'm thankful for getting through another day here and I'm thankful for family and friends and that they are remaining healthy and well. I'm doing my best and I think considering the circumstances, it's pretty damn well. Tomorrow's another day though, but I believe I'll somehow make it through OK too, even if I know I'll be waking up in prison. What can a girl do though? Sweet dreams and good night.
18 weeks: Let me DO something already!
I'm the type of person that always likes to be doing something. Constantly feeling the need to be contributing to society in some sort of way, whether through work or charities or even simply giving advice to a friend in need. Planning and working towards goals, even if there may be setbacks along the way. When I'm not busy at something, I feel useless or bored or simply down in the dumps. And I get bored pretty damn easily.
My time in prison so far has been teaching me true patience. It's hard though, really fucking hard actually. I've been here a few months already and still haven't gotten into any classes and programs I requested to participate in. Apparently, in the max/medium units, the waiting list is extremely long. I also requested a job as a para professional (paralegal or tutor or something of the sort) numerous times, but have not received any kind of response in this regard. Recently, a position opened up as a paraprofessional for the c-cottage unit (the place where the crazies live) and I wrote the administrator applying for that position. Of course, no answer. I probably won't get it. I hear inmates only obtain those types of positions after many years in the facility.
It's ridiculous if you ask me. I'm crying out to pretty much volunteer my time to help other inmates in areas that I can and these people, because of the disorganized system, deny me! They want me to sit here and do nothing. Of course, I take it upon myself to read a lot and keep learning in here, but what if I didn't? Why have a "correctional facility" where the majority of women are basically staying put in their old ways. In meaningless sexual relations with women, in bickerings about petty shit, in an underground commissary store and medicine drug dealings. It's ridiculous!
I'm just saying, if it were up to me, I wouldn't have hundreds and hundreds of inmates sitting around with remotely enough time to be involved in that sort of mess. I'd keep everyone busy being, and learning to be, productive members of society. That way, maybe they all won't end up here again because they will have a new alternative to their way of living.
I never thought I'd say this, but I especially miss working in addition to all the other things people do on a regular basis outside of prison. I know why I'm here and I know I used to dread waking up for work every morning in the past, especially right after the accident. But that's when so much of my life appeared to be purposeless to me. I had a lack of understanding and reason and meaning. No strong drive. I'm just truly ready to be a contributing member of society now and make something bigger of my life and I wish there were a way to start right away. Patience, I know. One day at a time, yeah, yeah, yeah...
My time in prison so far has been teaching me true patience. It's hard though, really fucking hard actually. I've been here a few months already and still haven't gotten into any classes and programs I requested to participate in. Apparently, in the max/medium units, the waiting list is extremely long. I also requested a job as a para professional (paralegal or tutor or something of the sort) numerous times, but have not received any kind of response in this regard. Recently, a position opened up as a paraprofessional for the c-cottage unit (the place where the crazies live) and I wrote the administrator applying for that position. Of course, no answer. I probably won't get it. I hear inmates only obtain those types of positions after many years in the facility.
It's ridiculous if you ask me. I'm crying out to pretty much volunteer my time to help other inmates in areas that I can and these people, because of the disorganized system, deny me! They want me to sit here and do nothing. Of course, I take it upon myself to read a lot and keep learning in here, but what if I didn't? Why have a "correctional facility" where the majority of women are basically staying put in their old ways. In meaningless sexual relations with women, in bickerings about petty shit, in an underground commissary store and medicine drug dealings. It's ridiculous!
I'm just saying, if it were up to me, I wouldn't have hundreds and hundreds of inmates sitting around with remotely enough time to be involved in that sort of mess. I'd keep everyone busy being, and learning to be, productive members of society. That way, maybe they all won't end up here again because they will have a new alternative to their way of living.
I never thought I'd say this, but I especially miss working in addition to all the other things people do on a regular basis outside of prison. I know why I'm here and I know I used to dread waking up for work every morning in the past, especially right after the accident. But that's when so much of my life appeared to be purposeless to me. I had a lack of understanding and reason and meaning. No strong drive. I'm just truly ready to be a contributing member of society now and make something bigger of my life and I wish there were a way to start right away. Patience, I know. One day at a time, yeah, yeah, yeah...
Thursday, June 10, 2010
(a little out of order sorry) Still 15 weeks: Feeling the heat - literally
It is approximately 90 degrees outside today and the air conditioning down our wing is broken. The maintenance guy isn't coming until Monday. It's at least a good 90 degrees higher in here than outside, maybe more. We are forced to stay in here during count(sp?) times and at night as well. I'm sitting here sweating balls and I feel as if I'm about to have a heat stroke.
They won't let us open a window even if there are barbed wire fences all around the unit. Last night, I literally thought I might pass out in the heat and never awake. Other inmates around me sleep in the nude because they don't even care anymore who sees them in this heat. Two people in my wing went to the hospital because their asthma was acting up - that and because there would be air conditioning over there.
All I can say is, this is cruel and unusual torture. It's borderline unlawful. I feel like crying or ripping my hair out. Someone better fix this air conditioning soon or let us open a window. I can tolerate prison, but I'm not quite sure about surviving in an oven.
They won't let us open a window even if there are barbed wire fences all around the unit. Last night, I literally thought I might pass out in the heat and never awake. Other inmates around me sleep in the nude because they don't even care anymore who sees them in this heat. Two people in my wing went to the hospital because their asthma was acting up - that and because there would be air conditioning over there.
All I can say is, this is cruel and unusual torture. It's borderline unlawful. I feel like crying or ripping my hair out. Someone better fix this air conditioning soon or let us open a window. I can tolerate prison, but I'm not quite sure about surviving in an oven.
(a little out of order sorry) 15 weeks: BLAH!
I'm feeling really crushed today - and yesterday for that matter. It's for no real reason, but not getting a visit this week might contribute to this feeling. I know, I know, I shouldn't fuss about it. Most people here hardly ever get visits and I've gotten one every week before, sometimes more than once a week since I've been here. And I'm fortunate and grateful for that. But I still can't help feeling my heart a bit torn as I realize nobody is coming and nobody has come a single day this week.
You see, on visiting days, I don't usually know if anyone is coming until the phone rings between a half hour span and the guard calls your name. So before that time, I get ready just in case. I make sure my hair is as nice as it possibly can be in here - which is still crappy looking for the most part considering our lack of hair products available - put on my khakis which are required for visits as opposed to sweatsuits, empty my pockets since we can't bring anything, and sit around in a chair within a close viewing distance of the officer and the telephone. Then, I find myself staring at the clock as my heart begins to race and my palms start sweating. It's an exhausting and nerve-wracking process three times a week!
If I get called, the biggest smile appears on my face and I'm tempted to give the officer a great big hug. Of course, I don't though. I simply grab my pass and proceed to the visiting hall, extremely ecstatic and filled with joy. When I don't get called, I try hard not to be too disappointed as I know people have things to do and I can't expect to always get a visit. I can't expect my loved ones' lives to revolve around me even if my life in here revolves around them. What you have to understand is this: I don't have anything else to look forward to in here. Visits and mail is it. Its what makes the days go by easier.
I hate feeling this way, but I can't help it. I'm utterly dependent on friends and family to visit and write me. I've never felt so dependent before for a long although I don't think I ask for much. Yet here I am, whining like a baby and feeling sad and miserable over not getting a single visit this week. I just can't wait to get out of this place. =(
You see, on visiting days, I don't usually know if anyone is coming until the phone rings between a half hour span and the guard calls your name. So before that time, I get ready just in case. I make sure my hair is as nice as it possibly can be in here - which is still crappy looking for the most part considering our lack of hair products available - put on my khakis which are required for visits as opposed to sweatsuits, empty my pockets since we can't bring anything, and sit around in a chair within a close viewing distance of the officer and the telephone. Then, I find myself staring at the clock as my heart begins to race and my palms start sweating. It's an exhausting and nerve-wracking process three times a week!
If I get called, the biggest smile appears on my face and I'm tempted to give the officer a great big hug. Of course, I don't though. I simply grab my pass and proceed to the visiting hall, extremely ecstatic and filled with joy. When I don't get called, I try hard not to be too disappointed as I know people have things to do and I can't expect to always get a visit. I can't expect my loved ones' lives to revolve around me even if my life in here revolves around them. What you have to understand is this: I don't have anything else to look forward to in here. Visits and mail is it. Its what makes the days go by easier.
I hate feeling this way, but I can't help it. I'm utterly dependent on friends and family to visit and write me. I've never felt so dependent before for a long although I don't think I ask for much. Yet here I am, whining like a baby and feeling sad and miserable over not getting a single visit this week. I just can't wait to get out of this place. =(
(a little out of order sorry) 14 Weeks: Distracted Driving
I was watching a talk show the other day about the dangers in texting while drigin and my eyes began watering up as I was listening to the stories of families who have lost loved ones when someone else or themselves were on the phone while driving. Did you know that 5,000 people in the U.S. died last year from cell phone related accidents? There is a lady in here that I've met who has the same sentence as me for assault with a vehicle from texting while driving. Fortunately, everyone in the accident survived although both injured.
Distracted driving is fucking dangerous. I know you hear this all the time and probably always think it will never happen to you, but think again. I used to think that way too. Well, it happened to me, it happened to two friends of mine, it happened to thousands and thousands of others and it CAN happen to you. So if you can do anything at all to prevent this, I'm pleading with you - please do.
Whether it's talking on the phone while behind the wheel, texting, putting makeup on, drinking, doing drugs, sleepily driving, or even getting behind the wheel when you're crying - DON'T DO IT. They asked on the talk show,"You wouldn't take a shower while blow drying your hair so why would you operate a vehicle with any other distractions?" I imagine drinking or texting or half sleeping as you are chopping up tomatoes on a cutting board. You might luck out and nothing will happen, but your tomato can get diced up horribly or worse, your fingers can be sliced off.
We're all adults now and with that comes responsibilities. I'm not trying to preach to anyone, I'm just telling you because I care. I don't want any of you to have to ever go through what I've been through or worse. I don't want any of you to lose one of your closest friends. I don't want you to end up in prison or dead yourselves. Just say no to distracted driving. I know it's corny but I mean it when I say, "It's better to be safe than sorry."
Distracted driving is fucking dangerous. I know you hear this all the time and probably always think it will never happen to you, but think again. I used to think that way too. Well, it happened to me, it happened to two friends of mine, it happened to thousands and thousands of others and it CAN happen to you. So if you can do anything at all to prevent this, I'm pleading with you - please do.
Whether it's talking on the phone while behind the wheel, texting, putting makeup on, drinking, doing drugs, sleepily driving, or even getting behind the wheel when you're crying - DON'T DO IT. They asked on the talk show,"You wouldn't take a shower while blow drying your hair so why would you operate a vehicle with any other distractions?" I imagine drinking or texting or half sleeping as you are chopping up tomatoes on a cutting board. You might luck out and nothing will happen, but your tomato can get diced up horribly or worse, your fingers can be sliced off.
We're all adults now and with that comes responsibilities. I'm not trying to preach to anyone, I'm just telling you because I care. I don't want any of you to have to ever go through what I've been through or worse. I don't want any of you to lose one of your closest friends. I don't want you to end up in prison or dead yourselves. Just say no to distracted driving. I know it's corny but I mean it when I say, "It's better to be safe than sorry."
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Still week 16: Watch out for those dangerously polite criminals!!!
I almost got a blue sheet today. In here, a blue sheet is another way of saying, "you're fucked." It is the worst charge you can receive and they can hold you here past your max date if this is received, you can lose your chances of going to a halfway house or parole and you can get sent to lock. Pink sheets are the next one down and that usually gives you 5 days LORP (in other words, you're confined to your bunk).
So how did I, someone who stays far away from trouble, almost get in trouble you ask? No, I didn't get into a fight. No, I didn't touch a girl improperly. NO, I didn't steal! I simply held a door opern for somebody who was approximately 5 feet behind me. We were going to the library and the polite thing to do, at least where I'm from, would be to hold the gate open so they don't have to wait for it to be unlocked again. Apparently, in here it's called "tampering with locks". Well, sorry but next time the door is being shut in your face.
After listening to the short midget of a bald-headed guard ( who obviously has some sort of complex that makes him feel the need to find any reason to show his authority over others) scolds us and basically tells me and Lo we are retards, we seemingly sincerely apologize for our "misconduct". He tells us to give him our IDs on the way back from the library so he can write up our blue sheets, but when we return, he decides to "be nice" and let us go on this one. What a relief! But come on, we're the least trouble-making inmates in this place! It's like when cops pull you over for throwing a gum wrapper out of your window when there are rapists and whatnot on the loose nearby. And yes, that has happened to me as well. I just want to go home already. I miss home terribly and I'm so sick of this place.
So how did I, someone who stays far away from trouble, almost get in trouble you ask? No, I didn't get into a fight. No, I didn't touch a girl improperly. NO, I didn't steal! I simply held a door opern for somebody who was approximately 5 feet behind me. We were going to the library and the polite thing to do, at least where I'm from, would be to hold the gate open so they don't have to wait for it to be unlocked again. Apparently, in here it's called "tampering with locks". Well, sorry but next time the door is being shut in your face.
After listening to the short midget of a bald-headed guard ( who obviously has some sort of complex that makes him feel the need to find any reason to show his authority over others) scolds us and basically tells me and Lo we are retards, we seemingly sincerely apologize for our "misconduct". He tells us to give him our IDs on the way back from the library so he can write up our blue sheets, but when we return, he decides to "be nice" and let us go on this one. What a relief! But come on, we're the least trouble-making inmates in this place! It's like when cops pull you over for throwing a gum wrapper out of your window when there are rapists and whatnot on the loose nearby. And yes, that has happened to me as well. I just want to go home already. I miss home terribly and I'm so sick of this place.
16 weeks: A more appropriate name for prison
I've always tried to think of this place as something else, anything else, other than prison. I thought it would make time go by slightly more pleasant.
At first, I pretended I was in boot camp. Dressed in uniform, people of authority telling you what to do (sometimes nicely, other times harshly), bunk beds that you have to keep orderly, waking up early, etc. I try to exercise frequently too and even had a drill sergeant in county leading me in various types of exercises. But it's definitely no boot camp. Barely anyone does anything physically strenuous and the women in prison definitely lack discipline and respect for others.
So maybe I can consider prison a true place of rehabilitation. Classes, programs, etc. to make individuals learn to be better. Unfortunately, that's not the case either for majority of the population. Only a percentage of us actually sign up for these classes or try to use this time to become mentally, physically, emotionally, or spiritually stronger.
This morning as I was observing everyone waiting for breakfast to be called out, I realized this place is closest to a zoo. A zoo for wild animals, some fight, some mate, they go crazy waiting to be fed. It's a fucking madhouse! There's no better way to describe it for you. Put a bunch of animals in a cage and this is what you get. I'm sorry, but I'm slightly aggravated right now if you can't tell.
So although, in my head, I am in a boot camp, a place of rehabilitation and learning and growing, a time away from the outside world to rethink the past and be prepared for the future as well as appreciate the present, I do all of these things in a zoo, wishing the animals were slightly more tame. On a better note, the air conditioning is fixed! THANK YOU GOD! =) Now if only I could have more visits it'd be all rainbows and gumdrops!!!
At first, I pretended I was in boot camp. Dressed in uniform, people of authority telling you what to do (sometimes nicely, other times harshly), bunk beds that you have to keep orderly, waking up early, etc. I try to exercise frequently too and even had a drill sergeant in county leading me in various types of exercises. But it's definitely no boot camp. Barely anyone does anything physically strenuous and the women in prison definitely lack discipline and respect for others.
So maybe I can consider prison a true place of rehabilitation. Classes, programs, etc. to make individuals learn to be better. Unfortunately, that's not the case either for majority of the population. Only a percentage of us actually sign up for these classes or try to use this time to become mentally, physically, emotionally, or spiritually stronger.
This morning as I was observing everyone waiting for breakfast to be called out, I realized this place is closest to a zoo. A zoo for wild animals, some fight, some mate, they go crazy waiting to be fed. It's a fucking madhouse! There's no better way to describe it for you. Put a bunch of animals in a cage and this is what you get. I'm sorry, but I'm slightly aggravated right now if you can't tell.
So although, in my head, I am in a boot camp, a place of rehabilitation and learning and growing, a time away from the outside world to rethink the past and be prepared for the future as well as appreciate the present, I do all of these things in a zoo, wishing the animals were slightly more tame. On a better note, the air conditioning is fixed! THANK YOU GOD! =) Now if only I could have more visits it'd be all rainbows and gumdrops!!!
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