Prison Journal: #5
“MARRIED IN PRISON”
NAMASTE’
Once again,
thank you all for such wonder letters of encouragement from such beautiful souls.
My thoughts and prayers go out to Ms. Bienes and the Junior Theology of Cabrini High School, C. Hughes, J Kelly, Jonah House,
Catholic Peace Ministry, C St. Peter of IL, our Lady of Victory Missionary Sisters, Diane Pinochet OSU,
(special thanks for sending the prayer card of Dorothy Kazel) and Sister Gemma Stracka for expressing the seriousness of why we are here.
I found it to be quite moving. Last but not least, Louise Lynch for checking up to ensure my well being and Cedar Knoll,
for the recent and generous invitation.
Of such things I thank you all.
Well, as things Go,
I gave up on my 30 day fast. It went as far as four days solid,
but things are not so much conducive to that process. If I was allowed more time to sit and be still and silent,
it would have been a lot smoother --- such as --- going to the “hole”; for an example.
I still continue to pray for all the loss of innocence the world over.
We shall continue on… UN-afraid!
With love in our hearts for all methods of men and beasts.
Well,
Craig’s presence here has motivated us to start anew,
revitalization of the prior Yoga classes.
There are now three of us who are dedicated enough to promote and carry forward the program.
The sets are a compilation of the forms presented at the Maha Devi Ascension Movement.
As well as everyone contributing their skills, memories and desire to maintain their vitality.
I have been asked to lead the class, so this burden challenges my inbred American laziness to be an example for other external beings in this class.
Uh-oh! Now, with some luck, and perseverance, there will be others who will come forward that are willing to choose to participate
in encouraging their own personal well being.
Also, in the last remaining weeks, I hope to focus a little more on an attempt to correspond with congress and the SENATE,
employing them to support the Bill HR-1258 to close the School of Americas for good. Fairly soon,
we will find the time to contribute a letter to present our meager plea to the Cold and Disinfected marble stone that stands in the heart of America,
who alone guards “US” from all of our troubles that freedom represents.
“Perhaps our freedom is too dangerous for us to have?...”
“Is that why they took it away?...”
Are we that irresponsible that we might shoot our eyes out? WHO is to say?
NO MAS! NO WAR!!!
That is our cry… But will “They” listen?
What am I referring to as “Getting Married in Prison”?
WELL,
as it stands, it is referred to, simply put, as a euphemism for a Disciplinary Action.
It is a bit of a long and sorted tale, SO, I hope to make it brief. Thankfully, I am not a lawyer.
ANYWAY.....
All of this was three months in the process of coming to fruition.
I can only hope that this will be the end of the story.
I still have three weeks left to go, so, we shall see.
What I mean is that ever since day one, my Bunkie and I
have been going back and forth arguing about this and that,
darn near every weekend for the last two months.
Every Saturday or Sunday, he would start criticizing,
yelling and ridiculing me for something trivial and stupid.
Such as farting, stinking, smelly feet, dusty blankets, etc,
on and on. But oh no not all at once… one thing after another.
Every weekend he would start on something else,
always worrying about something I was doing.
Very much like an obsessive mother hen.
So up to this point I chalked it up to simple prison B.S. and considered it to be some minor nuisance.
But, every weekend he would do something more outrageous just to get me to react.
Every weekend he would wake me up,
aggressively by complaining about something.
We would argue about it while I’m half-asleep,
then we would just get mad again. But the difference is that I remember what happened last week.
By Monday, after having a chance to sit around all day at work to think about what he had done,
he would then in turn, apologize. After that we would get along pretty good for the rest of the week.
Sometimes we would just to about our day in silence until the next weekend rolled around.
Or sooner still if something else disturbed his fine standards and sensibilities.
YES,
at times, I was a Participating Agent of irritation.
To be certain,
I was provoked into playing their games.
YES, at times, harsh words were spoken by both of us.
My hopes were to earn enough of their respect to end such childish behavior.
Well,
words cannot hold ones hostilities for too long when they realize that mere
threats have little meaning of fear to someone who carries a very small measure of it.
I have made repeated attempts to call their bluff.
In hopes of proving to them that they are idle gestures to gain control.
Well, more than once,
it came to a certain level of physical harm and ruff housing,
to the point of severely twisting my ankle.
After the fact and when the whole thing cooled down and he apologized I told him;
“If you can learn to love an ugly trite M**F** like me, then it’s worth two broken ankles” using his words.
I believe this entire event reached. Yes, both of us are suffering but now, in different ways.
It had a positive effect on him. He faced his anger and was allowed to deal with in a productive manner.
Thankfully,
I was able to remain calm and actively engage him with compassion instead of reacting with the same level of competition or equal violence.
I believe the situation was successful.
That was until he forgot again what happened.
In two weeks, the same routine started again.
This time, he felt impelled to throw out my pillow into the trash and a stocking hat that I wore at night to keep the spotlight out
of my eyes so I can get some sleep, (they must have fallen off my bunk in the middle of the night.)
This gave him reason to criticize my action yet again.
Well,
I could see this situation was even now,
escalating out of hand into absurdity.
What really disappointed me is that he immediately lied about it.
As if he had something to lose by being a man and admitting he got bent out about it.
Some personal item was stolen out of my bed as well, just to hurt me.
Even according to their own standards his actions were wrong and pretty low.
In a higher joint, it would have warranted an ass whoopin’.
I was genuinely angry.
I realized that I don’t have the skills or the patience to work with him anymore.
Now that I had to face my issues as well,
that was the point I made the decision to request a room change.
He knew he made a mistake by saying; “…
I would have rather taken an ass whoopin’...”
HE knew he crossed the line, yet still he felt he needed to lie about it.
After much deliberation and a few days to sort out the whole mess,
I chose to end this conflict in the most peaceful way possible.
Thanks to Craig’s experience on the bodhisattva path, I believe I did.
I sent out a cop-out implicating my Bunkie.
It was serious enough of an allegation to get their attention and conduct an investigation.
I originally wanted to be vengeful and vindictive trying to punish them ALL,
as severely as the LT. thought possible.
BUT,
I chose instead, not snitch out anyone out, up to the point of getting me out of the room.
So the LT. decided to “MARRY US”.
As we were dragged up to the control building into the LT.’s office,
they sat us down one at a time to gather our stories.
I told them that I wanted to resolve this at the lowest level possible,
and resolve it peacefully without incriminating anybody…
… While sitting in the LT.’s office,
he sat both of us down together to vaguely explain the rules of this “NEW GAME”.
NOW,
I don’t have to deal with it anymore.
NOW,
it is up to the LT. SO,
this means that if I get hurt again,
HE goes to the hole. If he gets hurt,
I go to the whole. Simple enough? Right?
HE told us to “JUST work it out” we agreed.
Basically,
it was his work against mine,
and I didn’t want to push the issue,
only to change rooms before it happens again.
The LT. was getting mad when they realized that I was withholding specific information that would cause some serious problems for my Bunkie.
WE were sent back to our room.
Well, within two hours,
just after 10 PM count,
he rushed out to the C.O. to complain again.
“Officer, he said, “that M**F** said something to me.
The LT. said HE wasn’t ‘sposed to say a M**F** thing to me…” Well,
we were escorted back to the LT. office for the second time.
The problem was that we ere told to work something out.
Not once were we told as to HOW.
I asked if the LT. could provide something in writing that we could
sign and agree to so that we both understand the rules of this situation.
“IT’S NOT THAT BLACK AND WHITE!” the LT. explodes.
I looked at my Bunkie,
to him it was. He thought that Not saying a M**F** thing to him was working things out.
I calmly explained to the LT.
that my definition of working things out included talking
about our feelings and taking the initiative to work towards peace while admitting to the other person we were wrong.
“THIS is a matter of personal courtesy,”
the LT. exclaimed. Then I asked, “Where in the guidelines does it say that a twisted ankle and throwing things out are a matter of courtesy?
He knew I had a point. He knew I was pissed.
What really infuriated the LT. it that HE HAD to give me what I requested.
DUE to the simple fact we could not agree on what working it out was to entail.
Apparently neither one of us understood.
SO I got moved.
Now, that is over,
I can focus on other issues that require my energy.
The new room is better, a bigger locker,
a new buck that does not squeak like a rusty swing,
and thank GOD, for not having the halogen security spot light in my eyes all night.
HOWEVER,
they are a younger group of kids all under 25,
so that means that even though they are very tolerant,
they are up all night, with the light on, talking, one goes to work at four, and one "lights up" in the room.
So, I exchange one evil for the other. SIGH...
at least they are not yelling at me constantly as of yet.
WHEW!! So, all in all, things are a lot more peaceful than when it started.
Of that I am thankful.
I knew that I was being watched over with your thoughts and prayers.
I was not afraid. The old room has gotten a new Cellie already.
On the first day they started at it again.
I feel a little guilty and sorry for the guy that walked into that mess.
I felt like I should have stuck it out to prevent this guy from freaking out and working his karma together.
But, Craig reassures me I did the best I could and now it is his karma that he will face on his own.
It was challenging to say the least. As for my future outside, I am joyful I get to leave soon.
I really miss the big lake and all the wonderful people that call her home.
NO MAS! NO WAR!
Until we meet again,
Breathe love,
Be well,
Do Frolic Much,
Where The Truth Is Free,
Your Humble Servant Of Global Peace.
ozone
FPC 92123-020
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