Driving Straight Down a Curvy Road

 Today's one of those mornings that there just isn't enough coffee. Three cups in and looking for my fourth. A day I'm not looking forward to and wish I didn't have to face. Turning on the radio isn't helping. I'm so tired of country music. I find myself awakened by a haunting dream of tomorrow... not past mistakes, but a foreboding of what is to come. A dream of being released. The happiness of walking out the front gate... turning into the reality of the loss of so many people over the years of my tenure here. I find myself leaving a pit of despair to a world alone. The irony pinnacled by the fact that I've been incarcerated for robbery only to find myself being robbed of life itself. The memories. The experiences. The enjoyment of the family and friends that i so ignorantly took for granted. Hope evaporated as if a wisp of smoke. My image of a happy reunion was in fact just that; a dream which I realize now was merely false hope. The hardest part for me -...

Early morning coffee with Kurt Cobain, always a good way to start the day. I'm a huge Nirvana fan. My favorite song is probably "Molly" which is actually a Bill Monroe song. A lot of people don't know that Cobain was actually a pretty big bluegrass fan. Maybe that's why I dig Cobain so much. Being from Southwestern Virginia, the birthplace of bluegrass, I guess it's in my blood.  Well, it's starting to get light and I don't think the fog is ever going to lift. It's been heavy for the last week, all day every day. Even the crows are tired of it. I think they've migrated to brighter skies. I haven't caught a glimpse of their cumbersome bodies in days. Unfortunately outside rec is canceled whenever there is fog so needless to say we haven't been outdoors in over a week. Crazy how I'm actually missing the rec yard. The yard here is one of the bigger yards in the system. It's divided into three sections and two weight piles. I spend ...

  I guess today is a three cup morning, seems that the coffee isn't quite clearing the fog out of my head. I suppose a fourth is in order. Ironic. Considering as the sky lightens outside my window I can see that I'm not the only one having trouble clearing things away. I see the mottled sky - light trying to break through the fog outside my window. Fog thick as the steel door to my cell. I can't help but think of the old cliche' - fog so thick you can cut it with a knife; or - thick as soup. I remember as a small child actually trying to cut thru some fog once with a butter knife... just to see, ya know! It didn't work... nor could I spoon it like soup. I still remember wondering if it would taste like my favorite - pea soup. I like days like this. Barbed wire and chain link fences not the first things I see. The fog blocking the negative reality that is mine and allowing me to think of life in the world outside. As a bonus, the murder of crows i've become famil...

I've shared a little insight into what goes on in prison but I haven't given you a glimpse of who i am and how I came to be here. As you know I'm 42, almost 43, but gripping onto 42 like a fat kid grips an Eskimo Pie! Divorced father of two wonderful children. I am the oldest of four boys. My father is a pastor and has been since I can remember. My immediate family is deeply entrenched in the Christian Community. My Grandmother and one uncle were pastors and numerous other family members were Sunday School teachers and ministers. My extended family is quite large. My Grandfather had 21 siblings and the last tally I saw revealed around 178 cousins! My cousins were the ones I gravitated towards. Their lives were the complete opposite of mine. When I was around them I found a freedom i wasn't accustomed to. They were more - colorful - to say the least. My Grandmother called them the "outlaws" because many of them were moonshiners and grew a little weed. They were...