So This Is Prison Life?
I try not to talk to much about what prison is really like. I have the feeling that if I did tell someone what a typical prison experience is like they would be sorely disappointed. However, I think it’s time to talk about typical prison.
Prison is full of all kinds of people. People with all types of personalities and egos. As most of us know a man will do almost anything to protect what hurts him the most, his pride. One thing that I learned a few years ago was that when my pride is at stake, whatever is making me feel that way, I’m the one with the problem. So I let that go, I hate pride. It’s a destructive force that causes me more grief that is what’s worth protecting. Besides, I am so used to being the one who is hated in a room that when I am like, that’s the oddity.
So swallowing my pride in the face of being ridiculed or disliked is not new to me. In fact, at this point I wouldn’t have it any other way, because there is a certain amount of liberation in knowing that I simply don’t give a damn what someone thinks. Their opinion just doesn’t matter. If a man gets exalted above me, even in something I care about, good for him. If I really want it, I’ll fight for it with my own moral standing, one that since I’ve been saved has served me well. That is, stay to myself, mind my own business, don’t offer advice unless it’s asked for, stay out of quarrels that aren’t mine, don’t use drugs, don’t try to escape pain, deal with my consequences etc, etc, etc.
I live this way and it’s liberating for me personally. It’s obvious that I am not alone in this opinion, especially here. But, there are those here that don’t feel that way. They feel they have been robbed of something because they are here, it’s someone else’s fault that their miserable. So they make up lies and talk to those they feel they can manipulate and it gives them some form of satisfaction to know that they had a hand in disrupting someone else’s life.
Prime example, recently I was drawing a picture (I draw portraits in graphite) of a model. Sitting out in the day room minding my own business happily. By now, most everyone just leaves me alone. Until I see a few officers gloving up and go to my room. They see I wasn’t there and came and got me in the middle of the dayroom. I don’t use drugs, I don’t talk to gangs and I mind my own business. I don’t argue with staff, I don’t cause problems and I am not a trouble maker among inmates. So it’s a surprise they came and stripped me out in the back. Then proceeded to search my house based on information they had.
Information that was bad. As in false, lies, non-truth. Meaning that whoever their informant was, is a liar and is no longer a truth teller. So, I got to show off my backside (I have been working on it rather hard, after all, a good looking, shapely butt is the latest craze) finally a good excuse to strike a pose. Hopefully the strip out staff was impressed (so much for modesty huh?)
So my night was disrupted for no reason. I am glad I can say that though. There was a time when I would have been nervous about a cell search, but not any longer.
Long story short, that is minimum custody prison. Busy bodies, those who meddle in stuff that’s not their business because it gives them some strange satisfaction and sense of control and power that they can manipulate A whole investigations team with all kinds of bogus “intel” that is false..
Until next time, with love,