I somehow missed my alarm this morning at 5:30am, but luckily was awoken by a group of guards aggressively yelling commands at 6:00am. It was a body check. I guess a brawl had occurred the day before, and now they wanted to conduct body checks to look for bruised knuckles or any other cuts or lacerations. They were looking for the guy or guys who beat the person up.
I guess the average person would be pissed to be awoken abruptly by a group of officers telling them to take off their clothes, especially so early in the morning, but I was thankful for something new. Prison is a blur. Without any days having any significance, the only thing that seems to change is the seasons. Everyday is the same day. Same faces, same scenery, same routine. It is quite torturous. Therefore, just being able to start the day differently was huge and refreshing.
I still find it odd to say that. And as I stare at the words on this page, I can’t help but get lost in the thoughts of my past. Some painful, some joyous, rapidly playing before me. Its almost paralyzing. Look, liberty is so awesome. A perspective I have gained in prison, and one that will never leave me. Do I think serving a decade in prison is a fair price for selling drugs? Of course not! But I am determined to be defined by how I responded to prison, not prison itself.
If the government were to release me today, they would not have to worry about me ever committing a crime again. Not because the BOP (Bureau of Prisons) has rehabilitated me, for that is far from the case, but because I have gained this new perspective of the world and have a great desire to make positive contributions to society. In fact, the way the prison system is set up, it negatively encourages the resocialization of prisoners to not be a part of society.
However, the is nor here or there, and I’ll devote other posts to revealing the sad reality of “corrections.” As for the here and now, I just wanted to devote some of my energy to sharing the daily and sometimes humorous struggles of prison. More posts in my “Day To Day” category. For despite the stigmas, and public misconceptions, the average prisoner is a good person who made a mistake. We are all just one mistake from prison. That is all that separates the prisoners from the guards. But the guards will never tell you that.
Of which, I want to make clear that you will never hear me again refer to the guards as a “Correctional Officer.” That would be a ludicrous assessment for the are doing the contrary. Now, for the prisoner, it is the absolute small things that matter the most. And today I was reminded of how much I miss the luxury of having my own bathroom. Do you know how nice it is to be able to use the bathroom when ever you want? Probably not, because you get to use it whenever you want. Very recently the BOP made several changes regarding trans-gender prisoners.
Many of which happen to be located at the prison I am at. And to each their own, prison is hard enough so I am sure they have some extra battles they are suffering from. However, it is difficult being located in the same small units with these prisoners. For instance, today I had to “drop a turd” like no other. So just as I approach the bathroom, someone makes it to the stall before me. There is one stall, and 4 urinals. As the individual sits to pee for ten minutes, I am using all of my strength to not drop the turd in the urinal.
It hurts man. Holding that in is not fun. So as he sat to pee, I was wasting in misery. Yet another struggle of prison life. I am not knocking what that individual does, for I would never be in the position to do so. This is America. Land of the free. You can do and be whatever you want. I just want to convey to you that I live in an absolute Paradox. You never know what you might see or what might enfold. I could go on and on, but as they called the controlled movement, and dozens of other prisoners flood the computer lounge, it is my time to go!