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Hello everyone.

One of my names is Poley and my biggest challenge this week is staying motivated.  Its my studies.  I just can’t seen to get around to it, until the run goes down,  I think it might be depression caused y the fact that everyone has to be fucking loud all of the time.  Other than that I’m just fine, and will keep chipping away at learning stuff.  That’s all for this week, kids.

Thank you and good night!

Poley

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Hello one of my names is Janos Undervoot and one of my biggest challenges this week is I learned my Grandfather, the man that raised me has cancer. It’s back he spent two weeks in the hospital and is now with hospice at home. I wish I wasn’t locked up I can’t call or go home for his passing. There isn’t anything I can do but honor his memory, somehow. Don’t worry about me though. I know sooner or later we all must wake from the dream. I learned that the day I killed a rabbit as I tried to protect it from a dog. The French say “Such is Life” and so do I.

Just remember children the revolution will not be televised but it will be on Facebook. Until next week.

Whisper

Hey, what’s popping?

I’ve been working on not focusing so much on the end result of things.  I bounce from one thing to another.  It’s like I don’t feel like I”m doing anything unless I’ striving for something, and then as soon as I get it or accomplish something, I’m on to the next.  I don’t even savor the accomplishment.  I really need to work on that.  Word.  Conditional reality.  That’s what I’m struggling with right now.  I need that happy core.

The falling down and getting back up is what life’s all about.  The day we stop getting back up  is when we really have problems.  I’ve learned that failure is when you give up.  It’s o.k. to make mistakes and fall down, but when we accept that and stop trying, that’s when we’ve failed.  So keep getting back up, everyone.

I can’t believe that this is the reason I self-sabotage so much.  I’m working on this, realizing this is the first step towards fixing it.  I don’t know why I hate myself; I think it’s some childhood shit.  I want you guys to know that I”m working hard to get better and be better so that when I come home I’m in the best possible space.

I’m trying to give all my problems to Allah, it’s hard though, because I’m such a control freak.  I know that He can handle everything better than I ever could so I need to start trusting in Him.  That is not stupid at all; everything is on loan to me from God, you know.  As for purpose, I am just starting to realize what my purpose isn’t.

Just know that I’m doing okay.

As I am,

Prince

There are things I thought I knew, and it turns out that my ideas and knowledge are that of a sheltered little boy.  Yeah, I know, I wouldn’t have classified myself as sheltered either, but there is so much out there beyond me and the little I know.  Right now, my head is a mess.  I am battling the pain and horror of learning that childhood beliefs in the world and myself are false.  I am evolving, becoming so much smarter and stronger, but it is not easy.  I do not wish/want to return to the ignorance and naivety that defined me but I do recognize how ignorance is bliss.  I have had to learn some very painful truth about my abilities or lack of them in the last month or so.  It is all worth it though.  I am becoming the best I can be.  Which is doubly important so that when I come home I will be able to be successful and no, I am not trying to become a better criminal, even though knowledge is power.  Hahaha.

As I am,

Prince

What’s really good?

Things have been kinda hectic  here lately.  Long story short: people don’t realize that “real” muhfuckers live and die behind/over words.  Somebody said something and it had to be dealt with.  The person who said it was not prepared for the level of violence that the words caused.  So their friends stepped in so I stepped in for my man.  It was a bad situation for a while.  God forgive me but the adrenaline made me feel so alive.  Everything seems so much, well, “more: when you’re on that tightrope between life and peace on one side, and bloodshed and pain on the other.

Racial tensions here are sky-high.  I imagine it’s only a matter of time before there’s a race riot.  There is so much ignorance and prejudice here.  There’s prejudice on both sides, but in defense of the brothers, most of the whites they come in contact with are either outright racist or so ignorant of black culture that their comments and actions seem racist.  I have been blessed to have met so many amazing white people that I have been unpleasantly surprised about half the population up here.  Anyway, that’s neither here not there, just the events of the past week have brought it all back into the spotlight.

As I am,

Prince

Dear Holistic Peeps:

Mama-love always told me that nothing worth having is ever easy, and while that makes a lot of sense, it has also lead to a lot of spurned gifts.  Who knows how many blessings that I have undeserved or cheapened because I didn’t have to work for them, not knowing that if they were given to me by the grace of God, then I could never earn them?

Hmm.  Food for thought.

No wonder why I usually fuck up my relationships with women.  It has always been so easy to get women.  So I work a little to make them fall in love with me.  I mind-fuck them ’til they love me.  Plus, my dick game (excuse the vulgarity) is something else – HaHaHa!

But then, when I have their love, two things happen:  I get bored because the challenge is gone and my inner insecurities start to emerge so I drive the women away so I don’t get hurt when they leave.  Pretty stupid, huh?

I have my close male friends and then I couldn’t care less about the rest of the guys in the world.  But women are a different story.  It seems like every woman I am close to, I try to seduce.  I need their love and to me, the ultimate proof of that is them giving me their bodies.  I make it worth it.  I’ve slept with 95 women and every one has come back for more.  Making love is a gift and a talent which through hard work (HaHaHa!) and lots of reading upon and practice I have become quite good.  Yet, to me, it can be and is most of the time as casual as shaking hands.  I’ll fuck a woman before I kiss her – for some reason kissing implies more intimacy.  Anywayz, though, I’m starting to ramble.  I was starting this to tell you about my own problems with women so that maybe y’all could find something to help you.

I remain,

Prince

So, as I’m sure you can tell by the paper and the pen, I’m in the Box again.

So, yeah, Friday the 13th.  So it was a regular day and I was supposed to take my college readiness final.  Actually, I was supposed to take it last Tuesday, but I wasn’t ready, so I pushed it back to Friday.

So, I’m up at the yard, and I see somebody who had done something he shouldn’t have the last time I’d seen him.  So I looked at him.  He saw me.  I walked over to him, and we started shaking.  (When you shake, it’s a really good fight.  If it’s just so-so, it’s just a fight.)  So,  mind you, this is right out in the middle of the gym.  He was standing 15-20 feet from a c/o, but he, the inmate, wasn’t gonna move away from the c/o, so we got it on right there.  It was bloody.  He gave me my first-ever bloody nose (those are a bitch.  It bleeds a lot.)  and I split his eye, nose and lips.  Plus, his tooth got in the way of my hand, and split my knuckle to the bone.  It took stitches to close it.  Should’ve been more, but the doctor just pulled until it closed.  His eye got ten stitches.

We got maced with the big riot-fog cans.  They are about the size of a can of tennis balls.  That was unpleasant, to say the least.  I felt like I was on fire.

So, as you can imagine, I got lugged.  Now, they’re saying I can go back to population sometime next week, but I have to be on a behavior plan.  I can’t go to the yard for 30 days, except for school or religious purposes.  I have to have a room by the c/o’s desk.

Just some juvenile bullshit.  It is  what it is, though.  I bought it, and I’ma pay for it.  It was something I felt I had to do, so I did it.  I’m not saying I’m right, but it’s over now, and time only moves in one direction.

To change the subject, I just had the MOST AMAZING conversation I’ve ever had since I’ve been up here.  The person I was talking to was X.  He is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.  I could write pages on him, but I won’t.  I’ma just give you just one point of the convo.  He asks: What is a human, and what separates us from the animals.  Me, I don’t know.  Answer:  the ability to dream.  Then we talked about the difference between dreams and ambitions.  Ambitions are something you want to do, have, and see (and get this, b/c it’s mind-boggling.)  A dream is God talking to you.

A dream is God talking to you.

As I am,

Prince

They dance so smoothly across the sky

Pars, like dancers in transit before my eye

My body worms at the thought of you

(You) how have captured our hearts

You who stands on a threshold so high

No one to deny you

Be on top, the mountain hop

I lie here on this meadow below her

Casting an eye to heavens solder

Cumulus clouds make for all things at random

Like circling dancers

Or shimmering angels

(Phantoms)?

When I think of  you,

I see too of everything

Dress me in the sound

of your thousand angels company

Carried on wings renowned

Though our heads are bowed in humility

They sing and a mountain, it moves (inside me)

Their song, it thins the boundary

Between heaven and earth

They care more for our souls

Then the shells of our birth

A treasured thing

Is a wants lived in being

A life long mystery

Like an echo of a song

Who will show up for me?

Will I remember you?

Or will you, me?  And

What of them will I see?

 

I’m fucking stuck behind the fucking wall!  I don’t know if I can get back to the dorms!  If something don’t go right for me soon, I will have a good blog for you :-)

I got to pray more, I guess.

I am worried.

I am struggling in the girl department.

I feel lost, a little bit.

Juice

It’s Friday & hot with plenty of humidity to go around too. I’ve got some mental issues going on at the moment, that idiot Dr. Shubert called me down yesterday to tell me that he was shutting off my meds. My six – tramadol a day pain – pills I’d been on for awhile. He suggested that I under go a series of three – shots, 1 a week for 3 – weeks, as a nerve – blocker for knee – pain in my right knee. He’ll probably do something to seriously fuck me up. Paralyzed for life or something else… Anyway it’s supposed to kill my pain, and those synthetic tramadols – crushed are ruining my esophagus, so I told him I’d do it. I’ll let you know how it turns out. If I’m able to still write…

Sitting here I have to towel off my forearms every 3 or 4 – minutes to keep this page from really getting soaked. I can’t believe how nasty it is in here today. 103 degrees out on the fire – escape & humid as hell.

Yesterday the fat bitch in charge made me a level – 3. Instantly I was forced to do another job, just for that one day though. I’m in charge of folding all of the laundry, about 12 – loads a days, supposedly ironing all of the striped shirts & blue pants, I’m now the C.L.  Journalism assistant, & then I have a bunch of little things to do every morning too. It’s annoying as hell, and everything keeps changing, so as soon as it starts to make sense, it doesn’t anymore. It’s very hard for me to get anything of my own done, unless I do them at night, when I really need to be sleeping.

They’ve moved me into a room with a real piece of shit crackhead. A bag of java used to last me a week, now I open a bag + 2 – days later it’s empty. He never ask for, buys, or borrows any, but always has some in his locker. While I went downstairs to the commissary today about a third of a bag disappeared. If he’d have asked I would have let him have some. So being in this unit I had to tell the guard that he needs to move to another hole. He’s in serious danger in this one, they’ll move him. These cells are the same as the security building, but 2 – inmates to a cell. We’re locked in from 10:00 pm. To 5:30 am. 5 – days a week, weekends are 11:30, holidays 1:30, too tired to ever even care though.

I guess they’ve been working on the security building longer than I’d thought. Today I mentioned it & was told it’s all done already. We saw a huge air conditioning unit go in on a tractor trailer this am. 2 – days ago the temp on the floor in a – pod was 105 degrees + the hobo’s were screaming bloody murder. So they got a new unit. I guess last month the women center got one, expensive, they’re really huge.

I keep seeing my friend Vinny, Fred Huntley, Matt Moscillo, and they holler to me across the courtyard or whatever, but all I can do is wave. Can’t say a word to them. These ass holes are really getting testy about that too. Shit – bags. Maybe if I get motivated enough I’ll write Fred and let you relay it if you’re willing to. The one letter I sent him said a lot but there are some other things I really wanted to mention. Like his health, which he’d told me was getting worse. He’d said that he didn’t think he would make it back to the streets alive. Says he has no will power. I know he does.

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Political Prisoners

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

In collaboration with the Holistic Recovery Project, the Political Prisoners Blog provides a prisoner's view into what's happening at Maine's correctional facilities.

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