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Mama Love insisted that if we were home that the boys would eat together.  Most nights she would eat with us, the exceptions being if we had pissed her off severely or if my father was home.  If he was home, then they would eat together in the living room or the study.  As a family we spent a lot of time around each other.  I can remember wondering why, when I went to my friend’s houses, why they didn’t eat together, or spend as much time around each other.  A big reason behind learning to cook was just wanting to be around Mama Love.  My younger brothers had no desire to learn; their interest in food began and ended with the placement of food on the table.  I selfishly wanted to,and got to, spend time with her that was ours alone.

When I first moved in with the Fortunes, there were already two older boys there, Nate and Mark.  Nate was long-term foster care – he had lived with the Fortunes for around eight years.  After I’d been there for a year, Nate graduated from high school and moved back with his biological family.  Mark was adopted by the Fortunes exactly a year before I was and was the oldest until he graduated and moved out (well, he stayed for a year after graduation, “finding his way” and all that.)  For about four years after I was the oldest son and with my father spending more time out of the house than in it, I was the de facto head of the household, with most if not all of the responsibilities that came with it.

Mama Love had over fifty foster kids during her time working with DHS, so I have spent more time wiping butts, giving baths and telling bed-time stories than some parents I know.  We used to get looks when we went out because of how many of us there were and the fact that some of us were lack and some of us were white.  My father is 6’6″, 280 pounds and black and Mama Love was a red-headed, short, white woman.  Mark was around 5’9″, stocky, almost pudgy white, with short, spiked hair.  I was and still am a 5’9″ dark, full-blooded Haitian, Leo (another adopted-brother) a 6’6″ light skinned half-Jamaican.  James, a biological Fortune, was young, white with bright red hair (think of the kid from “Jerry McGuire,”) glasses and freckles, while Tony (adopted brother) was young, half-black / half-white with green eyes.  I never looked at my upbringing as different.  It was just the way my family was.

My mother was the keeper of my secrets, hopes and dreams.  She was the one person in my life that has ever loved me unconditionally.  As my father and I were too similar to talk, share, or even like each other much, she was by default, my mother and father (him not being around much helped as well.)  While, in fairness, my adopted father did teach me some aspects of how to be a man, some lessons I needed (like to always take responsibility,)  other lessons that shaped me at an early age have left me wondering the cost, i.e. the ones about how men never show emotions like pain and hurt, or how men never cry and rarely apologize.  It was Mama Love who really taught me why it is important to be a man.  How it is your actions and not your age that make you a man, and that the two best things that I can do for my loved ones are as follows: firstly, if you really love someone then you are there for them at all times, not just when you’re needed, and secondly that it is more important to make sure loved ones have what they need rather than what they really want.

I remember walking into the house after school or practice (I played three sports: football, basketball and baseball, so almost every day after school I had practice or games and wouldn’t get home until four or five at the earliest) and being greeted by the smells of cooking food and the sounds of my brothers.  It was as if when I opened the door to my house I entered another world.  The sounds would hit me as soon as I opened the fake wooden-paneled door, depending on the time my brothers would be in the room on my right, “the library” (which is where we had desks and computers for homework or personal use) doing their homework quietly.  Well, it was supposed to be done quietly, but, when have boys ever been in a group and ever done anything quietly?  In fact, it was when we were quiet that we were up to something.  As soon as we stopped making noise you could count on Mama Love coming to investigate.

When I would shut the door the smell of cooking food would permeate my nostrils.  It was as if my house was a cocoon that opened itself up and embraced me with sounds and smells of love, like they were just waiting for me to come home and now my night, my family’s night and our house’s night was complete.

(More to follow.)

As I am,

Prince

danny.2014

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I was having a sex dream.  Don’t know who he was but he was slowly sliding his cock into me.  I was slowly getting wetter.  In fact when I woke up I had wet undies.  I was right on the verge of orgasm when I hear a knocking on the door.  Fuck.

Now, I am sitting ere in my 8′ by 10′ two-person cell at 1:00 a.m.  I am writing letters to people who never write back.  So, I might as well stop writing to them for they have forgotten about me.  Nobody cares.  Feel like nobody loves me on the outside, like they don’t have time for me.

There is a lot of shit going on in here.  There are guards who play favoritism to inmates or as we prefer to be called “residents.”  To top it all off they took all of our crocheting and knitting stuff and anything that we had in progress.  Pisses me off something wicked.

I really want some guys to write me.  I can skype, and I love writing and recieving the dirtiest letters.  My ultimate fantasy is to have one cock in all three of my holes and to have both of my nipples being sucked on at the same time.  What’s yours?

Love,

Arline

arline-lawless-2

 

I’ve been a little depressed as of late, myself.  You know how guys in jail can get.  I had some guy tell me I should have killed myself after Zina, “She went out gangsta.”

I was thinking, “Yeah, and she left our son and me here.”  as I walked away.  This guy is obviously not the brightest bulb in the box.  Still, it left me angry at Zina again.

Once guy tried to convince me she may still be alive, “You don’t know.  She could be in protective custody.”  I  swear.  I’m surrounded by lawyers and psychologists in here.  Luckily, I”m a little too bright to fall for this shit.

Still… my grieving for Zina is a manic call back.  some days, I’m fine.  Other days it’s a relentless roller coaster.

Just when I had given up on talking to anyone, I had a guy I didn’t recognize call me “Dirty.(my tag name.)”  We started talking and I  asked him if he knew Zina.  He said yes, “She was a beautiful girl.”

When he said that all these images of her, the really good times came flooding back.  That’s when I realized that that’s how I want to remember her.. as beautiful.

I can’t tell you why or how I endure this.  I do believe there’s a reason I’m still alive.  I don’t know why, but I plan on finding out.

I’d enjoy mail from anyone.  My address is:

Michael McQuade / Somerset County Jail / 132 East Madison Road / Madison, Maine 04950.

Tell everyone that I said “hi!”

God bless,

Dirty

Dirty

 

Circle, what’s going on with you?

I’m alright. Two weeks into Ramadan and it’s going great. I’m growing and struggling and it’s wonderful. So last week I got to watch Leo and Lake and my man L.A. Graduate from college with their associates. It was bittersweet.

Bitter because it should have been me up there with them. Sing them walk made my heart hurt. But, it served as a reminder that all of my actions have consequences and I need to keep that in mind. No more act now and deal with it later shit. 99% of the time I’m the biggest loser in that scenario and I’m too old to keep making these mistakes.

It was sweet because I was watching people I care about achieving one of their goals. I have shared a bond with them that you don’t share unless it comes behind blood, years and tears. I was so happy for them; they handled their business. Some of their family members came up. One of my mans hadn’t seen his mom in fifteen years. That kinda energy is amazing. Alright, though, I’ma tell you that in two years I’m going to be graduating and not just with my associates if they allow the to get their bachelors thenhen. Insha Allah, I’m going to get that as well.

As I am,

Prince

prince

Robin,

As far as my family goes, I don’t know what I might had done, but I guess they are all mad at me or something. Yeah, they didn’t send me a card for Mother’s day and I haven’t gotten a letter from my mom or my son.

I had a girlfriend in here since November, but she left in May to go to rehab. She wrote to me, but I still miss her. I am making a blanket with her name on it. I get to have a blanket, shower bag, make up bag wash clothe and a pair of slippers. I think we an also have three pairs of homemade socks also. My son is with my mom and he has been.

I guess you could say I have an attitude like a dove. I wish that I could have a dove again. You said there is a pic on facebook of me with purple hair. Can you look up stuff like pics and stuff? If you can my pics of my doves are on there.

Well, talk to you later.

Lawless.

arline-lawless-7

Hey,

Sorry my memory is such shit during that particular period of my life.  I was pretty fucked up.  sorry that it’s taken so long to write back.  Kennebec had me on suicide watch til they shipped me here.  A month and a week.  Just over a week in the turtle suit along.  When they shipped me they left all my paperwork and all.  It took a month just to get some of my shit.

I had almost forgotten your letter.  It fell out of my tome of paperwork the other day.  I was glad because I wanted to thank you for your letter.  Only a few people can realize what a piece of mail can mean to someone.  Especially someone with as much shit as I’m going through..

I can’t talk about my case at all Not only because of the severe nature of the case, but also do to the lack of info on the case.  I  don’t know what the fuck is going on.

I’m surprisingly optimistic for a guy facing life. I’m working out, reading, writing.  I”m clean of drugs.  That’s something I really wanted towards the end.  I tried to get into a detox.  There were no beds open at the time.

I don’t really want to get into the whole mess.  It really hurts thinking of Zina and our son, Loki.  He’s fine which is something, I guess.

I really wanted you to know that I appreciated that letter.  I thank you for your prayers.  You’re in mine as well.  If I ever get outta this place, I’ll give you a ring.

Again, thanks,

Dirty

Dirty

A quick note:

So, I’m pretty sure I’ll be back in college in the summer.  I’m excited about it.  I’m saving money for Ramadan so that I can make Zakat, which is charity.  I want to be able to gie the money to a mosque.  It would mean a lot to be ale to do that.  Of course, as I am limited financially, it is not easy, but I will give what I can.

Am I fat?  Please, Circle.  You know I stay cut.  I’ma have to send you guys a picture.  I’ll take one tomorrow and send it in the next letter.  Am I fat?  Hahahaha.  I don’t really work out, just do pull-ups ad push-ups and stuff like that.  I’m not a big fan of weights.

Okay, I gotta go.

As I am,

Prince

prince

Hey, Circle, so how’s it going? What did you guys do memorial weekend? Did you have a good day? I haven’t actually written any poems in a long time.

Have you guys managed to get a Dungeons and Dragons game going yet? As for the weather, I guess it’s going to be warming up.

Well, this June 18th, I shall be tuning fifty years old; I don’t really feel that old. Does tuening fifty mean that I’m a half century old? Did you ever get a hold of a copy of the Golem Plate Spell form the dragonsfoot website, along with a few other spells?

Well, goodnight, and I hope that you guys have a great summer. Don’t get sunburned too much.

Kenneth McDonald

Circle,

How are you ? I guess you could say I have seen a lot better days – I still have not heard from Lori and the kids but of course, who knows.

Sorry I have not written for a little bit, I have had some medical problems in the past few months. I have been having some really bad, light headed dizzy spells. Medical here really don’t know what they are doing for all they keep saying is “drink more water” but of course you know how doctors in prison are for fuck, I just wish I could stop being dizzy for some days I can’t even get out of bed.

I guess you could say I still feel lost, for I don’t really hear from anyone but you guys, or I should say “you” for you’re it.

So have you heard from Dark Star, for yes, it would be great to hear from her. But, if you guys want she can send me more pictures just like you guys can as well.

I guess I will let you go for now, for I need to work on what I’m doing in class tomorrow, so if you need it I can give you my second copy, when it comes to class for yes, I have two weeks left of my defy class I took. You should look up defyventures.org. I know their site sucks but yes that is a program I took here. I will write you guys more later, for yes, I know you enjoy hearing from me (LOL.)

Father Dudley

father.dudley

 

 

 

Hey Circle,

Sorry it has been a while since I have written.  I am good.  I guess you could say I am happy.  Just my family has pretty much given up on me.  I haven’t been able to talk to my son since God knows when.

I have been crocheting with thread, grappling pictures and stuff.  I love birds.  I have seen a fat little bird going to the dentist.  A red hawk, some crows and of course, seagulls.

If I could be a bird I would be a dove like “Pietrie,” my dove that my little man found in a mud puddle.

Well, write back.

Lawless

arline-lawless-3

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Political Prisoners

Welcome to the blog from inmates of Maine's jails and prisons.

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