Tag: solitary refinement

vagabondprophet:

Solitary Refinement Chapter 14

Dear Joshua                                        December 2nd 2017

    I’ve never really been artistically gifted. Stick figures is all I could ever do. However lately I’ve been finding myself wishing I had paints, maybe watercolours? I like the way that the colours bleed into one another.

I once saw a graphic novel where all the people and structures were sketched in pen or pencil, solid black lines, and then the colour was all filled in with watercolours. And things like trees and clouds were watercolours too. I liked how the black line told me that this is where that object ends, and the paint suggested otherwise as it bled past the penciled boundaries just a little bit. As if to make the whole image share the page, and share the viewers attention. It was the first time I really paid much attention to the style and medium of the pieces; asking questions like, “why did the artist do it that way? that’s so unusual.” In the end the strongest feeling I got was this idea that every person extends beyond their body just a little bit to colour the world around them. Sometimes if I squint I can see it still. Nina she blurred everything pink around her. Alister orange because of his sunny disposition, his creativity so boundless that the world is created anew every time he wakes. Kal leaks grey, and I don’t know what colour bleeds out of me and I’m not about to ask anybody either.

If I were to paint what it looks like in here I would run out of grey before I touched any of the good colours. I remember learning in stories about how the world came to be, and no matter which one you listened to they were always so colourful. In the Christian story God created everything with just his words and then it happened. Trees, roosters, the seas, everything. Other stories have mother earth and father sky, so many different stories but they are all common in being vividly colourful. Rich blues and delicate yellows, royal purples and deep greens. I really miss seeing the expansive and rich diversity of the outside world.

When God creates it’s colourful. When man creates, it’s grey and monochromatic. This place is built by men, for men, because of what men have done and none of it is beautiful or worth a second glance.

The more and more I get scared about Kal doing something to me the more I wish I was on the outside. Even if it was to do something like clean the gutters. Scooping the mucky browns from above the dewy green of the grass is still so much better than being here.

I realized recently that I don’t know how I would react if I was cornered by him. If my back was against the wall and nobody was there to help me. Would I just let him hurt me and hope it’s over soon? Would I shout and scream hoping somebody came? Would I try to run or fight. Hopefully I never have to find out what will happen in that kind of situation. I like to think I might be able to fight him off until a guard came to stop him. I’ll need to find a weapon I can keep on me or hidden under my bed or something. It seems crazy that I’ve been in prison for almost six months and I’m yet to find out what kind of person I am in crisis.

It won’t be that way forever. I can’t keep counting on Ziggy or Trevor or even Mark to always be there to make sure I don’t get hurt. A person as scared of Kal as I am, I need to know what I’ll do when I’m in a situation where I have to protect myself. I could maybe find a weapon. I’ll figure it out after Christmas. Right now I’ve been working so much when I’m not in my cooking program to try and get Christmas presents, I don’t know what I’ll get yet for the kids. If I need your help again I’ll let you know. Thanks for listening to all of my random thoughts.

Solitary Refinement Chapter 14

Dear Joshua                                        December 2nd 2017

    I’ve never really been artistically gifted. Stick figures is all I could ever do. However lately I’ve been finding myself wishing I had paints, maybe watercolours? I like the way that the colours bleed into one another.

I once saw a graphic novel where all the people and structures were sketched in pen or pencil, solid black lines, and then the colour was all filled in with watercolours. And things like trees and clouds were watercolours too. I liked how the black line told me that this is where that object ends, and the paint suggested otherwise as it bled past the penciled boundaries just a little bit. As if to make the whole image share the page, and share the viewers attention. It was the first time I really paid much attention to the style and medium of the pieces; asking questions like, “why did the artist do it that way? that’s so unusual.” In the end the strongest feeling I got was this idea that every person extends beyond their body just a little bit to colour the world around them. Sometimes if I squint I can see it still. Nina she blurred everything pink around her. Alister orange because of his sunny disposition, his creativity so boundless that the world is created anew every time he wakes. Kal leaks grey, and I don’t know what colour bleeds out of me and I’m not about to ask anybody either.

If I were to paint what it looks like in here I would run out of grey before I touched any of the good colours. I remember learning in stories about how the world came to be, and no matter which one you listened to they were always so colourful. In the Christian story God created everything with just his words and then it happened. Trees, roosters, the seas, everything. Other stories have mother earth and father sky, so many different stories but they are all common in being vividly colourful. Rich blues and delicate yellows, royal purples and deep greens. I really miss seeing the expansive and rich diversity of the outside world.

When God creates it’s colourful. When man creates, it’s grey and monochromatic. This place is built by men, for men, because of what men have done and none of it is beautiful or worth a second glance.

The more and more I get scared about Kal doing something to me the more I wish I was on the outside. Even if it was to do something like clean the gutters. Scooping the mucky browns from above the dewy green of the grass is still so much better than being here.

I realized recently that I don’t know how I would react if I was cornered by him. If my back was against the wall and nobody was there to help me. Would I just let him hurt me and hope it’s over soon? Would I shout and scream hoping somebody came? Would I try to run or fight. Hopefully I never have to find out what will happen in that kind of situation. I like to think I might be able to fight him off until a guard came to stop him. I’ll need to find a weapon I can keep on me or hidden under my bed or something. It seems crazy that I’ve been in prison for almost six months and I’m yet to find out what kind of person I am in crisis.

It won’t be that way forever. I can’t keep counting on Ziggy or Trevor or even Mark to always be there to make sure I don’t get hurt. A person as scared of Kal as I am, I need to know what I’ll do when I’m in a situation where I have to protect myself. I could maybe find a weapon. I’ll figure it out after Christmas. Right now I’ve been working so much when I’m not in my cooking program to try and get Christmas presents, I don’t know what I’ll get yet for the kids. If I need your help again I’ll let you know. Thanks for listening to all of my random thoughts.

vagabondprophet:

Solitary Refinement Chapter 13

Dear Joshua                                       November 19th 2017

    Still nothing from Liz. I stopped getting excited when they went around handing out the mail different inmates received. My cooking is coming along, that’s good. I stopped paying for that favour with desserts, so that’s good too. The weather has turned lousy so we haven’t been outside in the yard as much, as a result I see Kal has been in the gym more. That’s bad, that’s one guy that doesn’t need to get any more intimidating than he already is. Now me I could stand to work out a bit, okay a lot but I spend all my free time still doing jobs and chores to earn credit. I’ve already started to save for Christmas gifts, I’ve got to try. I don’t know what I’ll get them or how I’ll get it to them but I’ve got to try.

    I had an interesting interaction with Ziggy recently. He’s also one of the guys that hangs around Trevor. He asked me if I was still having trouble with Kal. I told him that he still worries me and he still stares at me and seems frustrated that people are always around me.

“Would you like me to make sure he stops?” He asked me punctuating the word ‘stops’ by stabbing a grape on his plate with a fork. I said I didn’t want him to get in trouble on my behalf and that I think I’m safe as long as I don’t get caught alone.

Later when I was talking to Trevor he told me that Ziggy made a similar offer to him before when he had a not very nice cellmate. Seems that with his wife cheating on him he feels particularly passionate about dishing out justice to those prisoners who are here for some kind of sexual misconduct. I asked Trevor what he did when Ziggy made him that offer, he told me that the guy who used to be his cellmate is now in hospital with one fewer eye and his new cellie is much more amiable.

So that’s… terrifying. Am I the only one that gets scared by stuff here? Trevor doesn’t seem scared even though he’s tiny. Ziggy isn’t scared, seems he defines security by his own terms. Kal, no there is no way he’s scared, he’s so huge and weird and doesn’t care what anybody else wants. What would it be like to be in a place like this and have no fear? Maybe it wouldn’t seem that bad, maybe it would just seem like going to work everyday. A place that you don’t want to be at but you’re there because you have to be, controlled schedule, lots of authority figures, like some people don’t like others. I guess that’s how some of them got here though, they didn’t care about the rules and authorities on the outside, why would they care about them here.

I just don’t know how to get there, I jump at every sound. Every time I hear a set of footsteps coming around the corner I wince and hope it’s not Kal. Every meal time I worry somebody is going to stick me with a butter knife when I’m not looking. I haven’t even done anything to make anybody dislike me, not even Kal. His interest in me appears to be more appetite than anger.

For the meantime people don’t really bother me too much because I’m always with Trevor and the others. I just still can’t shake this anxiousness that follows me around like a spectre. I also worry that people don’t respect me for me but rather the people I’m with, and certainly nobody fears me. If anything happens to Trevor to make him go away, if he gets released or hurt there’s nobody looking out for me. Maybe I need to do something to make sure people know not to mess with me, or maybe even just taking Ziggy up on his offer to help me out. I’m just so not okay yet with hurting someone or even having it done on my behalf, I’m not there yet and I hope it doesn’t come to that.

What I do know is that I feel like I’m in a scene from a horror movie. You know where the creepy music goes away and nothing looks out of place at all. Your hero is just walking along normally and it starts to look like everything just might be alright after all. Then, right then is when the worst thing imaginable happens, once hope has begun to entertain its own curiosity.

It’s felt that way for a while now.

Solitary Refinement Chapter 13

Dear Joshua                                       November 19th 2017

    Still nothing from Liz. I stopped getting excited when they went around handing out the mail different inmates received. My cooking is coming along, that’s good. I stopped paying for that favour with desserts, so that’s good too. The weather has turned lousy so we haven’t been outside in the yard as much, as a result I see Kal has been in the gym more. That’s bad, that’s one guy that doesn’t need to get any more intimidating than he already is. Now me I could stand to work out a bit, okay a lot but I spend all my free time still doing jobs and chores to earn credit. I’ve already started to save for Christmas gifts, I’ve got to try. I don’t know what I’ll get them or how I’ll get it to them but I’ve got to try.

    I had an interesting interaction with Ziggy recently. He’s also one of the guys that hangs around Trevor. He asked me if I was still having trouble with Kal. I told him that he still worries me and he still stares at me and seems frustrated that people are always around me.

“Would you like me to make sure he stops?” He asked me punctuating the word ‘stops’ by stabbing a grape on his plate with a fork. I said I didn’t want him to get in trouble on my behalf and that I think I’m safe as long as I don’t get caught alone.

Later when I was talking to Trevor he told me that Ziggy made a similar offer to him before when he had a not very nice cellmate. Seems that with his wife cheating on him he feels particularly passionate about dishing out justice to those prisoners who are here for some kind of sexual misconduct. I asked Trevor what he did when Ziggy made him that offer, he told me that the guy who used to be his cellmate is now in hospital with one fewer eye and his new cellie is much more amiable.

So that’s… terrifying. Am I the only one that gets scared by stuff here? Trevor doesn’t seem scared even though he’s tiny. Ziggy isn’t scared, seems he defines security by his own terms. Kal, no there is no way he’s scared, he’s so huge and weird and doesn’t care what anybody else wants. What would it be like to be in a place like this and have no fear? Maybe it wouldn’t seem that bad, maybe it would just seem like going to work everyday. A place that you don’t want to be at but you’re there because you have to be, controlled schedule, lots of authority figures, like some people don’t like others. I guess that’s how some of them got here though, they didn’t care about the rules and authorities on the outside, why would they care about them here.

I just don’t know how to get there, I jump at every sound. Every time I hear a set of footsteps coming around the corner I wince and hope it’s not Kal. Every meal time I worry somebody is going to stick me with a butter knife when I’m not looking. I haven’t even done anything to make anybody dislike me, not even Kal. His interest in me appears to be more appetite than anger.

For the meantime people don’t really bother me too much because I’m always with Trevor and the others. I just still can’t shake this anxiousness that follows me around like a spectre. I also worry that people don’t respect me for me but rather the people I’m with, and certainly nobody fears me. If anything happens to Trevor to make him go away, if he gets released or hurt there’s nobody looking out for me. Maybe I need to do something to make sure people know not to mess with me, or maybe even just taking Ziggy up on his offer to help me out. I’m just so not okay yet with hurting someone or even having it done on my behalf, I’m not there yet and I hope it doesn’t come to that.

What I do know is that I feel like I’m in a scene from a horror movie. You know where the creepy music goes away and nothing looks out of place at all. Your hero is just walking along normally and it starts to look like everything just might be alright after all. Then, right then is when the worst thing imaginable happens, once hope has begun to entertain its own curiosity.

It’s felt that way for a while now.

vagabondprophet:

Discarded

To dive headlong

Into the ravine

The vee cut neckline

Plunging into the bosom

Of mother nature herself

To die of despair

A pendulum in the air

To swallow handfuls of madness

To dull the crowding sadness

All of these deaths I abhor

But cruelest yet

Is that you ignore

Not a glance, whisper, or touch.

Discarded

Like coupons from a store

You no longer frequent.

Solitary Refinement Chapter 1

vagabondprophet:

Dearest Elizabeth                   June 18 2017

I hope you and the children are well. I miss you guys so much it’s painful. I still cannot believe I’m in prison. Convict, inmate, incarcerated, prisoner, criminal. I never ever thought that these words could be used to describe me.

It all sounds so fruitless to tell you now but it’s just like I said in court. I had been laid off from my job, more workers than they could afford once some of the investors pulled out of the contract. I didn’t want to come home from work early to tell you I had to look for work again, not again.

It was raining that day so I took the bus. When I was at the bus stop I was talking to a guy about how he hasn’t seen me at this time of day before because I just got fired. He was a big guy, broad shoulders, shaved head. He told me he owned a business and was actually looking for able bodied men who take directions well.

“I can do it! I’m your man, let me see it’s Friday today so I’ll get you a resume and references and meet you on Monday? Does that work for you?” I said to him.

“ That won’t be necessary, I trust your word. If you tell me you’re solid I’ll believe you. Just don’t let me down.” He replied.

That bastard! He was so friendly, so kind. You always said I was too trusting of people and I should have listened to you. What was I thinking! Getting hired at a bus stop without any kind of interview or anything. I should have smelled the bull shit right away but I couldn’t, all I could think was how I wouldn’t have to tell you I’d lost my job.

I was so happy. I’d been saved. After one day “working” with this man I find myself slammed in jail, the court, and now here. All so fast.

Day one he just told me that we were just picking up some cash from somebody who owed him on the way to the work site. So we pulled up to the back of this building and he told me to wait by the door with a bag. I just stood there waiting, totally oblivious they were robbing the place until alarms started ringing and cops showed up to cuff me. The bag I was holding had a gun in it I didn’t know about, the other guys had bolted out a different exit.

Now I have to listen to the people here drone on and on about things I really can’t care about. They keep talking about programs that they offer here. Education, skills training, that sort of thing. So many guys here haven’t even finished high school. For me though it all sounds so pointless. They keep reminding us to take our programs seriously as they prepare us for rehabilitation into society. I know how to live in society! I was real good at it too. I had a job, I paid taxes, I got educated. I was a construction worker for goodness sake I was the damn poster boy for responsible citizen. Working hard to support a family, rain or shine. Exercise in the evenings, cycling to work to reduce my carbon footprint. All the stuff these programs are supposed to prepare me for. Now I’m stuck here for five long years.

I can’t even pretend to care about how any of that matters. Right now all I can think of is how today is Father’s Day and I’m in prison. I’m going to end this letter now and go to the visiting area in case you guys decide to surprise me with a visit. It’s the only thought that’s gotten me through the day.

Sincerely,

Your Husband

Solitary Refinement Chapter 2

vagabondprophet:


Dear Josh        June 30 2017

Hey man, are you doing okay? I’ve been thinking about you and the other guys, I miss movie night and beer and pizza. I really appreciate you writing to me the other day, it was so nice to get mail. Everyday I hope for some but it usually doesn’t happen. To answer your question, no the food isn’t too bad and yes it is scary in here. I’m kind of freaked out that somebody is going to hurt me if I look at them the wrong way, I’m trying to stay quiet and lay low.

Liz and the kids haven’t written to me or visited, not even on Father’s Day, nothing not a peep in any way shape or form. Are they okay? Have you heard anything from them? I suspect that her parents and mine will help her financially in any way she needs but I’m still worried about them. It’s my job to worry, it’s about all I can still do from here.

It was so weird getting here. Being told I’m doing time for armed robbery. Minimum sentence, first time offender and all but still five years is a really long time. My son will be ten years old when I get out. Ten! My daughter will be eight, I’m going to miss so much. I’m going to miss teaching them to ride a bike, and their first home runs.

Can you check up on my family every now and again for me? I’d really appreciate it. They shouldn’t get into any trouble, I never talked about that guy I thought was my boss (the name I have is likely fake anyways).

When they walked me to my cell for the first time they had a guard walking next to me on either side. Is that normal? You know me, I’m like one hundred and fifty pounds when I’m wearing my steel toe work boots. Yet here they had two big bulky guards for one of me for our short walk together. Last door on the left of the range.

They call the hallways that have all the cells ranges.

Range: like pasture for cattle, all us morons being corralled into cages like the dumb beasts we are. Herded to our identical little rooms with our identical uniforms and our similarly terrible bad decisions.

Range: like a shooting range for fish in a barrel.

In my barrel with me is a guy named Kal. He’s a lot bigger than me, that’s the first thing I noticed about him. He was doing pushups when I got into the cell. The second thing I noticed was his glasses, I’ve never seen glasses like that before. The lenses were perfect circles only the size of quarters and the black frames were curled like the head of a fiddle on the outer side of the lenses and then only held the lenses on the bottom half of them. If he hadn’t been doing pushups when I entered I would definitely have noticed that first, it was off putting seeing this big muscular man with these small quirky glasses. If you had described those glasses to me and then asked me to describe the kind of man I’d expect to be behind them I’d have said some skinny nerdy guy with his nose buried in a comic book and badly groomed facial hair. Not this huge clean shaven guy with a crew cut and veins in his biceps thick as twizzlers. He didn’t say anything to me, he just looked at me and gave a smile. A smile too big and held for too long.

He scares me.

Solitary Refinement Chapter 3

vagabondprophet:


Dearest Elizabeth                               July 3rd 2017

So it’s been a few weeks since I wrote you last. I know the postal service is kind of lousy but I don’t think that’s why I haven’t gotten a response from you. I know you’re mad at me.

If it’s half as mad as I am at myself than I understand if you don’t want to talk to me for a while.

I get it. This sucks and I put us here. I really need you to understand though that it’s not my fault. I was lied to, I thought I’d found a new job to provide for everybody the way I always tried my best to do. I honestly just thought we were running a quick personal errand for my new boss on the way to our job site.

Stupid I know but you know me. It does sound like me doesn’t it? I’m not lying, I swore on the stand and I swear now. Please don’t believe whatever they made it sound like, and whatever people might be saying on the outside now. I know you love me but right now I really need you to trust me. It would make a big difference to me if I knew you were supportive in this, just to know somebody believes me, that I’m not alone in this.

How are the kids? God I miss them. Even when they exhausted me it was just the best thing to make them smile and laugh, what I wouldn’t give to hear Nina’s little giggle and Alister’s cacophonous guffaw. Do you read him his bedtime stories now? Do you remember when I’d be reading to him and after two books he’d keep asking for more and you’d say, “Daddy’s tired, go to sleep.”

I don’t think I ever told you before that I wanted to keep reading too.

Nina, do you play with her dolls with her now? She always had fun playing tea time with me and her dolls. She thought I put real tea in the little cups but it was just water with food dye. If you start doing it with her and I hope you do it’s one drop of red and two drops of yellow.

What have you told them about where I am? Does Alister think I’m a bad guy now?

I just hope everybody is happy. I’m remembering the little things I did for you guys and I’m wondering if anybody is missing those little things.

I have a cellmate by the way, his name is Kal. He’s really strong. I remember when you’d bug me to go to the gym to workout because you wanted a big muscular hubby to show off to your friends. I never went because I didn’t want to have it take away time I could be spending with the kids, or working overtime for extra money. Kal reminded me of that, he’s huge. He was intimidating at first but so were a lot of people, I’ll get used to it I guess. I hope.

Please visit soon. I guess you maybe need some time and space, I won’t write you for a little while to give you that.

Sincerely,

Your Husband

vagabondprophet:

Solitary Refinement Chapter 4

Dear Joshua                                         July 15th 2017

    Hey dude so I heard what you said about Kal. Ya he freaks me out but I can’t just ask to get a different cell mate, or get put in a different block. It’s not that simple man you don’t get it. Remember how you always wanted me to go with you when you were trying to pick up girls at the bar? You said it was because I was all skinny and gangly (for the love of God work on your sensitivity) and made you look good by comparison. Well it’s kind of like that. If people here see me always moving away from guys bigger than me towards guys smaller than me it’ll say something about me. It makes me look a coward. I swear Kal can smell fear, like a damned hound.

    I talked to another guy in the mess hall yesterday. He was sitting with a few guys and he yelled at me to come over. His name is Trevor and he’s really little, like super short and skinny but everybody he’s with seems to listen to him. He asked me how I was getting on with Kal and I said not great, just that I’d tried to avoid interacting with him as much as I can and sometimes he seems mad and other times he simply smiles at me. I’m yet to hear him speak a word.

I asked what he was in for and I’ll never forget what Trevor said, “Well you see he used to be a landlord, and let’s just say any female tenant he’s had moved out of the building and even out of town a few months after moving in. Apparently he doesn’t understand the word no.”

Trevor said he could keep me safe if I just stick with them, eat with them, do work in the yard with them that sort of thing. People see you have others watching your back they leave you alone. We’re all in this together just trying to survive.That’s the hope anyways. I like Trevor he gives me a good vibe, clean haircut great smile. The kind of guy that you’d trust to water your plants and feed your pets while you go on vacation. I don’t know what he’s in for but he really doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would hurt anybody.

He told me about a lot of other guys though, I don’t know how he knows so damn much. I like knowing what crimes people did, it makes me feel like I can maybe judge a little more carefully how I should talk to them. There’s a guy named Ziggy who killed his wife when he found her with another man. Don’t lie to Ziggy, that’s the rule I’m told. His last cellmate is still healing from broken bones in a different area of the prison after lying about stealing his last cigarette. His new mate is a guy named Zach who is in for multiple car thefts. They get along fine for now.

Two doors down from Ziggy and Zach is a fellow named Robert. Robert the cyber thief. This guy can hack just about anything I’m told. He developed a program that made all of the shipping and handling fees paid to Amazon.com on Black Friday last year go to his own personal bank account. It was a lot more than he expected, it turned a few heads.

I feel a lot better now that I know Trevor and his friends are looking out for me though. There are some nasty dudes in here and it sure is good to know I don’t have to worry about all of them.

It’s funny I used to worry about things like cancer, high blood pressure, cholesterol, and lowering my sodium intake. I used to consciously worry about how my kidneys are doing because I should drink more water than I do. My fears have completely changed. Getting stabbed was really low on my list of daily fears before, not the case anymore.

Have you checked on Liz and the kids? Sorry to bug you about it but I’m worried about them she still hasn’t replied to anything I’ve sent. I am going to give her a bit of space before I try to contact her again. I guess that means I’ll be chatting with you a lot more. When you reply to this can you tell me something normal? I want to know something normal. Like the price of gas or how your co-workers are annoying. I really appreciate you talking with me Josh, seriously you don’t even know.