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Things here are monotunis, chow, meds, chow, meds, chow, meds, bed. I box a couple days a weeks. I have yet to completely pic up jogging again. Maybe with the changing season. I love fall. Harvest time. Cooler outside. Smudged today. I love it. Beat a big drum last week, w/Jessie. Sux my Heritage has little to do with being Native to America. Maybe back when it was Pangoa. I’m english and Phillipono, ¼ to be exact. There is Indian’s tribal on that part. But it’s not American. I have been made fun of my whole life for how I look. Time to start embracing my Heritage. I’m not sub par, I’m above and beyond, anyway. I don’t fit in anywhere I guess. Good. Stealing cucumbers from our garden. To bad it’s consider stealing. Howe has done most of the work. I’m so scared of probation. I love pot to much. Sux. Hopefully, it all works out for the best.

Just cut up contraband veggie’s. Sad I have to hid out in the bathroom to do it. Like I’m shooting up or something a little Judas priest anyone. Awesome death metal, the bone, sun’s almost set. It’s 7:30, No more nite rec pretty soon. So A.A.’s been good. Couple of the guys from talk so that’s cool. So many movies I wanna see. So many times I wanna buy second hand at bull moose. Can’t wait to shop at Goodwill. Quarterroys and t-shirts. Good stuff.

“Freedom what will you make of it”

What’s up? Just the same old shit here just another day in paradise!

Addiction sucks trust me this I know, not alcohol but an addiction is still an addiction all the same. Just take things one day at a time, I don’t want to see you back in here man. That is a huge fear of mine when my time is up here is slipping up and getting high. I am sick of doing time but things are overwhelming when you leave here especially after doing an eight year sentence, I can only imagine how things will be. And getting anxiety just going into the visit room to see my family here, but enough of all that.

Oh shit I almost forgot. Did you hear that Kelly Larsen passed away, I guess his mom found him in his bed the next morning. I don’t know the exact cause of death, but I had heard that he was clean from drugs so it could have been his diabetes or something. It’s too bad man he was a cool kid and I liked  him a lot. Makes you realize how short life can be I guess.

I don’t remember the cause as it all seems so bizarre.

How a quiet night at home became a bloody battle ground.

They flew into my yard all packed into a single car.

Now scattered on the lawn all seven can be found.

Each thread of time is woven into rhyme.

A blanket of knowledge passing from the darkness into light.

All brain activity has ceased there are no thoughts of crime.

As I hold the empty gun and ponder wrong and right.

I moved into a neighborhood where I could afford to live.

I fixed the house up some it looked good enough to me.

A gang came knocking one day but I refused to give.

It came down to this a mess of blood and misery.

I can hear the sirens calling from many blocks away.

My neighbors are my witnesses of all that happened here.

I’m still nervous of the cops and what I should or shouldn’t say.

The truth will have to do that my family will not live in fear.

It’s Seldom that we go through an hour or a day and not experience feelings of self-consciousness, tension, anger, depression, fear, sadness and envy. It is also common that during the course of a day, we experience pleasant states, that we wish we had more often or would last forever.

It’s very difficult to see what really is when we’re actively filtering all the input. The mind is constantly and compulsively defining… itself and building a negative image… from passing thoughts. We select from the great mix of our experiences, an image here and there, and discredit the rest through some sort of rationalization.

We tend to judge and comment, not from what is true, yet from what we fear or envy, the judging mind has an opinion about everything. It’s full of noise and old learning, it’s a mind imprisoned, addicted, to maintaining an image of its past experiences, not wanting to let go. Because of fear of the unknown.


Kevin Lawler
MDOC# not provided

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Political Prisoners

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