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...

Another gang fight over access to the phones!  It's times like these that I understand just how animalistic men can become and how easily we can not only succumb to this arcane behavior but the easier justification we can as quickly relent. I see how astonishingly uncaring men can be with a marked lack of empathy, especially when it comes to violence, but also find no surprise when thinking about the popularity of spectator sports such as boxing, martial arts and MMA fights. I guess being in here is no different except here I have ring-side seats and the unfortunate opportunity at times to have been the main event... The majority of prison violence is centered around one of a few main things. The phones are by far the predominant catalyst. It wasn't always that way. Not so long ago, maybe seven years, calls were expensive. $7.00 for a local call. This kept most guys from making calls. Around that time a class-action lawsuit was won on behalf of prisoners and inmates across the ...

 Associations. I try to keep the number of people I associate with to a bare minimum - looking at quality, not quantity. Of course, considering my situation, quality is in short supply. I do have a couple good friends or "stickmen" that I know have my back and will stand with me. These friends are priceless in a place that at times is more of a war zone than a controlled environment. I am loyal to a fault and expect the same out of those that I call friend. Overall inmates are broken into five major gangs:      Bloods.     Cripts.     AB's.     MS13.     Muslims. I consider the Muslim community a gang as does any other convict. While not recognized officially, they embody all the necessary elements much the same way as the Nation Of Islam - NOI. Once considered a "hate" group, they now fall into a self-titled religious affiliation. Whatever! But there are many smaller gangs as well:     Skinheads.     Nazis....

 Overall my days are quite monotonous. I live more of an existence than a life. Some of the time is actually a fight for survival - not only physically, but mentally. For me it's just a pause in time. Although I age and grow older, I grow more in maturity and wisdom. Everyday I wake, look out the 2'x2' window. Gazing at the razor sharp wire along the perimeter fence, the sun sparkling off each sharp strand - reminding me of the threat of harm to not only my body, but my mind as well. It seems the razor wire not only physically keeps me here, but somehow mentally prohibits me from really thinking of a life other than this. It's a terrible thing to want simple freedom so desperately. To look out at the beginnings of the world so close and limitless, yet it may as well be unseen over the horizon. And well it should be, at least then I wouldn't be terrorized and tortured with an absolute of not being able to have what I desire most. Life! I often wonder if this reality ...

 Even the cold reality of life behind bars cannot remove the ability to dream... Dreams of Reality Last night I had the most beautiful dream. It was so real, or so it did seem. I woke from my slumber and a visitor appeared. It was you standing there, your eyes filled with tears. I pulled you close and whispered, "baby don't cry", I will always love you; 'till the day I die. I held you and kissed the tears from your face, where they dissolved and a smile took their place. We talked of tomorrow, our hopes, and our dreams, of being together, always a team. We laughed, talked, and made love thru the night, everything was perfect, everything was right. Suddenly I awakened with the sun in my face. I found myself alone, in this desolate place. My dream was so real, I almost forgot, it left me thinking, and these were my thoughts. If you believe in your dreams, you're certain to find, that dreams are a reality of your unconscious mind. So baby don't think we're ap...

 Well hello there! This is my first blog entry and i'm actually very excited about putting my thoughts, feelings, and daily life into a context you can understand and hopefully feel. I'm curious to see who will take notice or even be interested in my life as a prisoner in the Virginia Prison System. I have been to about 7 different prisons over the years and currently reside at Keen Mountain Correction Center. I've been behind bars now for 15 years (2005-) with a few more years to go until my "debt" to society is paid. In 2006 I was sentenced to 28 years in prison for gun charges, property crimes, and drug related offenses along with a Capital Murder charge (dropped). I have earned "good time" and completing various self-help programs I will end up serving a reduced sentence.  Why such a lengthy sentence for such minor offenses? Simple - the system is broken! You hear so much about prison reform and Black-lives Matter and while grateful these programs ex...