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I’m back out.  Rocky is back also and he is finally out from under all that shit.  He is assigned and can buy his own food and get back to the gym again.  I did make peace with Dancing Bare.  I used my non-violent communication skills; I identified my feelings, and the need beneath my anger and approached it from that angle.  I got out of MPU on Friday and came back to the dorms.  I didn’t sit at my table because it would have been too awkward.  Joe-Jo made Bare move to another table.  I asked for a mediation but they put me off until Monday.  Saturday, at night rec., I had Joe-Jo ask Bare to come out and talk to me with JJ present and my word that I would not hit him, and Bare refused.  That pissed me off.  I sent Joe-Jo back to the dorm to tell Bare that if he couldn’t talk to me man to man then we were going to have real problems before Monday, and surprisingly he came out and I laid it on him verbally.  I felt betrayed by someone I trusted and was hurt that he did not come to me if I offended him, first before he ran to the authorities.  That’s about it, really.  All I did was brush my hand across the upper part of his zipper and say, “I’d like to get a look at that thing.”

 

QT

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I was in seg for a month.  All they five is a blue pencil to write with.  I enjoyed seg.  It took me all that time to read a 500 page book.  Did a lot of push-ups.  Like the solitude and room service.

I’m not sure what to write for the Project.

Work hard. Freedom is a second away from the illusion of freedom.

Something.  I’ll think of something.  When on probation, freedom is just an illusion for me.  Suicide and murder, always on the back burner.  Have thirteen months left.  Have been unassigned for four months.  And lost a month for seg.  Ridiculous.  All for being held accountable for helping a friend.  Just went for an eye exam.  My eyes were fine before I came in seg.  Lost every last bit of my stamina down in seg. Sux.  Gonna take me forever to get them back.  Doing a transition class.  Wish I would just die. The registry.  How could I have been so stupid?  How?  Why?  That was the best of my thinking.  Just wish someone would just put me out of my misery.  I can’t, don’t have the ca hones.

I’m scared to get out – sensory overload.  My gf’s gone.  My friends gone.  I have to start over.  New town.  New people. New life.  I hate change.  That’s life – change.

Have to close this letter not saying anything.  Well, I write again soon.

Rocky

In case you couldn’t guess by the writing tool and paper, I’m in seg.  It’s not bad, lots of time to think, which I found out, slowly drives me insane.  Not wanting to do a high-risk bid, if you know what I mean.  I just want, like an hour to get my pencil sharpened.  Having peanut butter as opposed to fish, this fine evening. Got a new crop of guys in here today, late teens.  Each one tougher than the last.  I spend a lot of time thinking about the outside, which I have no control over.  I have to learn to accept the things I cannot change.  I’ve never done that, and I need to learn to do it.

 

My release plan is as simple as I can make it (when I’m free).  A roof over my head.  Ride the bus, walk or ride my bike.  Find an AA group, a paying job, fill my off time volunteering or doing anything positive I can to keep me off the streets.  I can’t be left to my own devices.  I’d like to do substance abuse counseling and meds, but only time will tell.  They work best for the worst (me.)

 

I wish we do get this Project up and moving.  I’ll do what I can just let me know.

 

Later,

 

“Rocky”

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Political Prisoners

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