December 03, 2006

This weekend has finally come to an end. It's been long and very depressing and boring. I had one of those veggie moments, in which I stare at the blank white wall and poof! Turn into a vegetable for a couple of hours. It's kind of hard to explain, but I just zone out. Nothing. Mind is wiped clean.

The past couple of weeks have been stressful and I'm glad it's quieting down now. It was funny, 'cause a guard came up to me today and said, "I read that USA Today article about you." I said, "Oh yeah?" "Yeah.. You know they'll never let you have a computer in your cell. You know that, right?" I said, "What in the world are you talking about?" "Uh, well aren't you trying to fight to have internet access and stuff in your cell?" I couldn't help but start laughing then. "No. The article was about inmates being on MySpace. No one is fighting to have internet in their cells. However, there are people trying to say that if our family or friends want to access the internet on our behalf they have that right. And I'm going to fight for that, too." "Oh. Well… Hmmm.. I don't see anything wrong with that I guess, so long as you guys aren't trying to do bad stuff. Nah. That sounds reasonable to me."

Friday night I got a real strange Christmas card. Don't get me wrong it was nice to get and I was grateful that someone took their time to even send me one. I just thought it was strange because it had a quote from Gandhi and then: "Randy, your life sounds like a rubric's cube" Boy , did they get that right. Interesting take on my life. Haha.

The quote gave me a flashback though. The last time someone told me that Gandhi quote was in Teller County Jail, shortly after our capture and awaiting extradition back to Texas. I spend about a month waiting to go back to Texas and the jail was really small, so there were only a few guards who worked at the jail. Surprisingly, everyone was very kind to us and one older lady, who was very motherly would come by and chat with me regularly. Mostly about religion and stuff, but it was nice not to be demonized. I often told her I was ready to change and stop being so impulsive and just get my lie straightened out.

One day, the U.S. Marshals came to take us back to Texas. As I was getting ready to go some guards opened my cell door. The lady was standing with them and she walked into my cell. She told me to sit on my bunk and then she sat next to me. She said, "Randy, I don't think you're a bad person. You're the same age as my son and christ, you could be my son. You've done some bad things and you will be punished for them. But that's not what matters. You talk about changing and I can see in your eyes a kindness and desire to be better. So, here's the challenge I give you when you return to Texas: Be the change you want to see in the world." I got choked up and wiped my eyes. I didn't understand why she was being so nice to me, an alleged cop killer. Then, she gave me a hug. At first I was afraid to hug back, thinking the guards outside my cell door would pounce on me, but they looked at me like it was okay. I hugged back. The last time I'd ever have human contact again. My very last hug.

I think I needed to see that Gandhi quote for whatever reason, 'cause it's kind of hardened my resolve. What matters is not what people may say about me or how they portray me. All I can do is continue to by myself and be that change and it will reflect on those around me and create change. Pretty powerful stuff.

I started reading a book called What Dreams May Come. It's really moving. A sort of love story about life after death. My Jewish friend gave it to me back here. So far it's been really good and not cheesy or clichéd. I suggest it. The author is Richard Matheson.

I'm hoping to get my writing back on track tomorrow. Tonight I'm sending out the first entries to my new section "I Am Human", in which I give other death row inmates a voice. I suggest you check it out. There will be many more writings and various things posted in the coming weeks. I hope this is successful. Being the "editor" is a pain in the buttocks, but I like the challenge- I don't however like rewriting stuff! Ah, well, it comes with the job I suppose.

Guess I'll give my first "Happy Holidays" to everyone. Hope it's a blessed season. Here's hoping for peace and goodwill.

I’m sitting here at 9:05 A.M. outside it looks nasty as all can be.. Fog rain; a grey soup of yuck. On top of that it’s humid and sticky and a smell of unknown origins has filled the air.. By all means, I should be in a very grumpy mood and maybe I would’ve been had it not been for the awesome compliment I was given this morning..

I was in bed trying to will myself up when a mail room lady showed up not to bring me any mail or books, but instead to deny me things. Apparently the recent Rolling Stone magazine has some sort of sexual stuff in it that is vulgar to the Puritan eyes of the administration- a magazine I should add that any ten year old kid could walk into the grocery store and buy off the lower rack.. Well, when the mail lady was reading me the denial form she soft of rolled her eyes to me like, give me a break. I shrugged and signed the paper and then she said, "I wish everyone was as nice as you." That comment made me feel immensely good and put a pep in my step. I said, "Thank you." and that was that.

It’s nice to be reassured that you’re human. I’m really happy right now.

Sorry I haven’t written anything in the past few days. I just got caught up in other work and I had some visits on Thursday and Friday, which as fun and wonderful as they are, they just zap the juice right out of you. I’m not sure if I’ve talked about this or not in previous entries, but I’ll try to explain it the best that I can…

I’m pretty much locked up in my cell 23 hours a day, every day. Human interaction is very limited. I can talk through my cell door and when I go to recreation I can talk from the day room. But still, unless you’re on the same wave length as the person you’re talking to there’s a sort of disconnection. I think a lot has to do with the way this environment is designed. It’s almost complete sensory deprivation.

When one goes to visit, the environment changes. They mood, atmosphere; everything, it’s really bright. There are people in ‘free world’ clothing. There are bright adds on soda machines. Your brain is processing everything and you can imagine the level changes in your own spirit. I’m not sure if I’m explaining this too well, but I’m trying..

Now you’re sitting across from a friend or loved one. If you’re me, you’re having a conversation completely devoid of jail life. You’re connecting emotionally and spiritually. A sort of psychic work out, for lack of a better description. When it’s over you feel like you just ran the Boston Marathon. I know guys who practically go to sleep as soon as they return.

So, after a four hour visit with my friend.. You just don’t feel like doing much else. A lot of times you just come back, take your jumper off, change clothes and collapse on to your bed. (After peeing of course! You can be locked into a cage for over two hours without access to a restroom, that can get pretty uncomfortable!)

Plus, I’ve been working on rewriting some memoirs. I really want to have them done today, so after this start to today's entry I have to go into overdrive. I’ll have a two hour or more interruption of recreation that will throw my groove off, too. Ugh.

Here’s something good to report.. I can finally type without looking down at the keyboard! I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to do it, but I can now and I am thrilled. Now, if I can do it without a billion typos I’ll be really happy =) Practice makes perfect. I really do wish I would’ve paid more attention in typing class back at school though.. I just didn’t like our teacher too much. This is pretty bad, but I used to sabotage the type writers so I wouldn’t have to do much.. What I’d do is open it up and inside there was a bundle of wires with a sort of electronic connector piece that snapped into the mother board. You could pull the bundle out and it would disengage the typewriter. Then, so the teacher wouldn’t see the loose bundle of wires, you would have to tuck it into an area with more wires, so it looked connected. I’d close it up real quick, turn it on, and of course it wouldn’t start up. Then I’d say, "Uh.. something's wrong with this typewriter.." Most of the time it worked, but then I gave the secret away to others and everyone started doing it and the teacher caught on. Later, in the second quarter of class my girlfriend of the time was in it also, so we spent the time writing little love notes to each other =) Time well spent if you ask me =) Haha.

Should be close to lunch time. I think I’ll pause here and write more later this afternoon. I just figured I would start the day off on a good note.

Well, it’s now 1:19 P.M. as I type this. I just completed my final draft of my latest memoir. I suggest you check it out. It’s called Fallen: A Memoir On Drugs. I picked out some of the worst parts. I didn’t want to portray it in a fun light. I mean, I could tell some funny drug stories, but I wanted to show the darker side of things. How it slowly altered who I was and what I became. Trust me, it could’ve been very long.

One moment I left out, which maybe I should’ve put in was about the dangers of huffing. I was fortunate that I had a girlfriend who told me to stop. Thing was, when we were both doing drugs, I had wanted her to try doing freon. I’m glad she said no. I even remember her giving me these pages torn out from some magazine about how dangerous huffing is.

Huffing freon is like playing Russian roulette. It started out, it was just fun and exciting. An instant high. You can get freon from any air conditioning unit. (Umm. I should add here that if you’re letting kids read this- DO NOT let them read these passages ‘cause I’m going to detail how it’s done and also tell you how to prevent it from happening in your own home..) Freon is the gas that cools the air that runs into your home. It’s very lethal and can seriously kill you on the first huff. If you look near the base of the air conditioning unit (if it’s a window unit, it will probably be on the inside behind a panel) there is what looks like a inner tube valve, just like on a bicycle. Most have metal caps that are tightened down. I would suggest you find a cap that can lock itself over the valve so that a kid can’t remove this cover. Also, I would periodically check the cap to make sure it isn’t loose or that no one has been tampering with it.

Basically what we would do is take a garbage bag, remove the cap of the valve and use a key or screw driver to push the air release thing down and then fill the garbage bag up, much like a balloon. Then, we’d sit around in a circle back in our dorm room and take a huff from the bag and pass it to the next person. Because the air is so cold it is very thick and heavy. Your voice would deepen and suddenly you would hear a waawaawaawaawaawaa sound and voices would begin to sound almost electronic. Colors would blast in front of your eyes as your brain would literally be suffocating. Then, you will pass out.

Sometimes, when I was back home from breaks in school, I’d grab a trash bag and a screw driver and go to the side of our house where we had three units. I’d fill up the bag. Once, when my friend Chad came over we did it in our game room. We both passed out. I remember coming to and being really out of it. I kept hearing voices in my head and then something about electricity producing oxygen- and I needed oxygen. I rationalized that if I were to bite into an electric cord I’d be able to suck the oxygen from it. I crawled to the T.V. and was just about to bite down on the cord when Chad said, "What the hell are you doing?" Of course, we thought it was funny at the time, but looking back that is pretty scary.

Another time, while my parents went out with my brothers I stayed home to huff. They didn’t know this, of course. And so I went to the side of the house and began to huff. I passed out right there on the side of the house. When I came to, I saw my parents Suburban coming down the street. I had passed out for hours! I could’ve died right there.

It’s important that kids and teens know how dangerous this is. A lot of times they think it’s harmless, it’s not a ‘real’ drug. But in reality it’s more dangerous than any kind of week or alcohol. It can be instant death. So, please take those precautions. Make sure paints and other things that can be used as inhalants are put away and out of reach. But most importantly educate them on the serious dangers.

I won’t be going to recreation until much later today. Probably on second shift. I really like to get it out of the way during the day time. Rec. at night can be no fun. Oh well. What can you do?

So…Because the rest of the day will be taken up and I probably won’t be typing anything else. I still need to exercise (I’ve gotten sooo lazy lately!) and then do some reading. Unless anything pops up later, I will close this up here.

As always, happy holidays and peace =)

Wait! Oh yeah, I forgot to say what I did Friday night! I listened to "Frosty The Snowman" Haha. I have these silly traditions I like to keep and every time I listen to that each year it brings back so many great memories from my childhood. I have every line memorized, it’s crazy. Hey, I’m not ashamed of being a big kid at heart =) This week "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas" is on, which I plan on listening to, and then of course, "It’s A Wonderful Life" on Saturday. Yeah, I’m a dork, but if being a dork means being human then so be it!