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Post by sclcookie on Mar 23, 2006 4:53:45 GMT -5
Changes in Uncensored from Texas Death Row: March 23, 2005 As a few of you are aware, there are changes made to Uncensored. I’ve invited other Death Row Inmates to be regular contributors. This way, no inmate will feel pressured to write articles by certain dates, plus it will bring more readers to Uncensored and to each inmate’s articles, esp. for those who are already posting their articles online. The main reason for this change is to spread the word about the death penalty, to open peoples eyes who think they know all there is to know about the death penalty. To make Uncensored from Texas Death Row what Paul and Rich intended it to be and hopefully better. Let’s see, how does Clint put it? “Use the Pain to Fuel the Fire. Unity is the Key to Success.” If all of us join together in spreading the word, we will be heard. Here are some reminders of what Rich was doing with Uncensored, his words: “Once again thank you to all you out there who care enough to tune in and listen to my thoughts. If not for the overabundance of supportive letters and e-mails, I most likely would have stopped Uncensored and crawled into a hole somewhere and just faded away. I stay strong because you stay strong for me. I stay positive because you stay positive. I stay hopeful, because you stay hopeful. Who knows what is in store for me in the future however, long or short it may be, just remember there are so many other men and women on death row who need an ear to speak to help them get the help they may need, legal or otherwise. “ “I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, this fight is not about one man. Therefore this fight is not over with one man’s death. It ain’t over with 100 men’s deaths, or 1000 for that matter. This fight is not over until the death penalty is completely abolished in the USA, and the rest of the world. Totally abolished is when the fight is over. When we no longer kill in the name of justice, then the fight is over. “ “Keep it real, and do it with your heart and damn what anyone thinks about what you say as long as you are speaking from your heart.” The following is information for said inmates; a few of the inmates are already aware of said information: Each regular contributor will be recognized as a “main” writer for Uncensored. For those who wish to remain anonymous to the public, I will give you an ID and you, I and your assistant will be the only persons who know who you are. Each inmate who participates must have an assistant to type up their articles and/or check their individual e mail addresses and those persons will be recognized unless they wish to remain anonymous. If an inmate is wanting to be an addition to Uncensored and does not have someone to help them with articles, I will advertise for help, no guarantee, though. Each inmate’s individual websites will be linked along with their individual e mail addresses. Each inmate will have their own by-line. If they are already know for a certain by-line published online, their assistant will e mail me with said by-line and along with the source(s). Rules for your article’s include The articles must be honest, e.g. on all UOF, you must send me the dates and case numbers….I will verify honesty at random. Plus there are a few inmates I trust with their word and if said inmates inform me your words were not honest, I will no longer post you articles. Keep articles about your case(s) to a minimal. For obvious reasons, please ask your fellow inmates if you are not sure of why. If you want your cases online, arrange such with your assistants, e.g. place case information in your main website(s). All regular contributors must be approved. That really it as far as the rules are concerned…..this is Uncensored, however there are a few things I censor, and if I do, I will let you know what it is….but it rarely reduces the message you are attempting to get across. If I'm forgetting to mention something, let me know y'all. Thank you all for your help in this fight to get rid of the death penalty. hugggz, Suzanne The following article was intended for a previous Uncensored, however, I thought it was too good to hide it in there and decided to post it here in this announcement of the changes in Uncensored Runaway Chuck December 21, 2005 Dear KDOL listeners, friends and supporters and Death Row Convicts. Greetings from Runaway Chuck. After a short lived very needed self paroled vacation, I’ve been returned to the Polunsky Gulag. It was no surprise that the whole administration staff was waiting for me when I arrived. Needless to say, due to my stunt, I’ve been treated to the finest living accommodations 12 Building has to offer, Level 3. In my short time back, I’ve noticed some protesting going on and I’d like to give credit where credit is due. Sacrifices are being made by these guys in their peaceful non-violent protests; thing is the guards and rank are still using excessive force and it’s a real stand-off, the folks out there and in here, our networks of friends and supporters are hearing about it. I for one have sent my people on a web search and asked all on the row to spread the word and get involved. Now as for my escaped, a lot of people are asking me why I did what I did etc….Sure everyone is a critic too. Y’all, of all people, know better than to believe the half-truths the press and media spew out like sewage. Fact is as Twice Condemned Death Sentenced, my flight for freedom was many things in a nutshell. And first and foremost it was human nature, the will to live. Second a blast to the busiest pro-death city in America, Houston, Harris County, Texas, “Ground Zero” for the death penalty. Rebellion, shock factor, awareness and worldwide attention on the Machinery of Death, it was all that and more. Basically, I did everything I was physically able to do, 6 years with no disciplinary record on the row, mounted a massive legal battle, campaigns, etc…. Still, they sent me back to the row. The playing field will always tip in the prosecutions favor, just like the scabs of justice. So I sent my own message (right or wrong way to do it). Well, point is all eyes were on Harris County and they got a black eye, let’s face it. When ya re-sentenced to death, ya really put new meaning to “Nothing to Lose.” Recently, I posted some of this information and more thoughts on “Prison Talk Online”, moreover, I requested that society not carry on wearing the blindfold that lady justice wears so well. For the public to open their eyes to what is really ongoing in a system fraught with error, a systematical killing machine, it takes educating them, you, society as a whole, to brind awareness and change. My message is for all, get involved, get others involved, adopt a death row inmate and make a difference. One person, on voice, can make a difference as history has taught us time and time again. After all folks, isn’t history our best teacher? Let’s make a difference, make history, bring change…on movement. ABOLITION NOW. Respectfully, In Struggle and Solidarity “Runaway” Chuck Thompson Execution Number 999306 One last thing before I go: A moment of silent for Richard Cartwright A pledge for a moment of silence for Richard Cartwright who was executed for a crime he did not commit in the state of Texas on May 19, 2005 and pronounced dead at 6:16 p.m. CST. We will honor Rich for his efforts in spreading the word to help abolish the death penalty annually on May 19 each year at 6:16 p.m. CST. Those who wish to have their names public on new Uncensored from Texas Death Row article, please e mail me at: chitown@1prison.com In the subject area, put "silence". In your e mail, give me your name (first and/or last) and if you wish, your city, state/province, country of where you are from. hugggz, Suzanne
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Post by sclcookie on Mar 26, 2006 3:55:47 GMT -5
March 26, 2006
Hi there! I hope all is well to the readers of Uncensored. I’m sure everyone is anxious to know who the co-authors are going to be.
I’d like to introduce the first 2 today.
With Angela’s help, Charles Thompson 999306 AKA “Runaway Chuck” will be one.
With Ines’s help, Robert Pruett 999411 AKA “Tool” will be another.
I want to thank both Chuck and Robert for helping spread the word about the death penalty, especially, to those who don’t give the death penalty a second thought, like here in Texas.
You know how it is here. “Texas put an express lane in” when it come to the death penalty. Executions don’t make the front page here. They are stuck in the middle of the paper somewhere.
When I talk with people here about the death penalty, many say they are for it, but they have no idea of the flaws, injustice, etc. They are clueless. When I inform them of questionable cases and of how some were extremely close to being executed, later released after finding that they are actually innocent, many start to question the death penalty.
Information is what we need to provide and with Robert’s and Chuck’s help, Texans, US Citizen’s, the world will be educated.
hugggz, Suzanne
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Post by oztash on Mar 26, 2006 7:49:01 GMT -5
Suzanne Great news I cant wait to start reading. Tasha
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Post by sclcookie on Mar 28, 2006 3:06:03 GMT -5
March 28, 2006
Uncensored from Runaway Chuck
In Texas a high number of people are being propelled through the state appeals process with unqualified attorneys and all this is and indifferent Texas Court of Criminal Appeals (CCA). The current capital appeals process in Texas- resulting from new legislation and laws that went into effect in 1995 has sped up the very process that was to be a safety net. Instead innocent and those undeserving of the death penalty are the very failing experiment- with unreliable and deadly results.
No concern surrounding the death penalty is more pervasive and troubling that their systems history and continued potential to convict the innocent. Recent polls report that 94% of Americans believe that innocent people are wrongly convicted of murder. Nowhere is this issue more true and polled believed that Texas has executed an innocent person. This increased by 9% of the past few years.
Texas is responsible for one third of all executions in the U.S.A. since 1976 and more half of all executions in the U.S.- over the past decade. This will only increase with the upcoming “END OF THE LINE” appeals of these men under the 1995 law changes. The clocks run out- time has ticked away- the average mans stay is now a short lived 7-8 years.
The writ of Habeas Corpus, also known as the great writ, is usually all that stand between the innocent or undeserving and his or her execution. With good attorneys actually working- uncovering and presenting evidence of innocence, prosecutorial misconduct, ineffective representation, mistake identification, perjured testimony by state witness, experts, officers and unreliable junk scientific evidence.
Death row inmates today face a one in three chance of being executed without having the case properly investigated by competent attorney and without having any claims of innocence and unfairness presented or heard.
The test of the quality of representation is whether or not appropriate claims are filed in the Habeas appeal. Claims based on evidence already presented at trial are solely reserved for the first appeal only, known as the direct appeal. (Based only on the trial record). In the Habeas Appeal (an inmate’s second appeal) claims based on new, fact not rose yet, or discovered, evidence found out side the record, are appropriate for this Habeas Appeal. It’s imperative that an inmate has good Attorneys who investigate and dig for newly discovered evidence. Consequently, the law even says a lawyer must conduct a complete investigation of the case- sadly most don’t!
Many of the state appointed attorneys in Texas are grossly under-qualified, irresponsible, or overburdened and do little of any meaningful work for these indigent clients. Often, new appointed by the federal courts in these inmate’s third appeals (the federal habeas) they discover new evidence of innocence or of serious and gross mistakes in the trial and appeals processes. However, contrary to misconception that the capital process is one with multiple opportunities for innocent or undeserving inmates to obtain relief, these circumstances, the federal courts cannot consider claims that were not raised and argued in the prior appeals. Help often enough comes way too late in these life and death cases Human lives slip “through the cracks”.
The lawyers in these cases are all typical of the standard attorneys appointed by the Texas Courts to represent these inmates, missed deadlines, 5, 10, 15, 10 page appeals briefs arguing for a mans very life. As a consequence, death row inmates, including those innocent, those inadequately represented those who never got to even present a decent, valid, defense or claim in trial and or now, in their appeals- those undeserving of death- human beings whose trials are full of constitutional violations, are still to date being denied the basic fundamental protections necessary to ensure reliable results- competent lawyers and meaningful appellate review. (A poor mans fair day in court).
Texas gives new meaning to the Lady, Our AMERICAN “Lady Justice who wears a blindfold holding the scales of Justice” as it dispatches souls of men towards the death chamber without meaningful review of their legal case.
The United States Supreme Court conservative Justice Sandra Day O’Conner, acknowledged “serious questions are being raised about whether the death penalty is being fairly applied, in this Country”…… If statistics are any indication, the system may well be allowing some innocent defendants to be executed.
Like other industries the capital punishment system puts innocent lives in jeopardy. There no quality control, for instance as the air craft industry has. Senator Leahy testified before congress that if our airlines started discovering that the causes of several crashes were the result of a faulty system- wouldn’t we promptly stop the use of the problem? Its comparable to our broken capital punishment system- innocent human beings are being freed every year, over 100 to date- and counting. One has to stop often and ponder- how many will it actually take?
Some are lucky enough to receive new punishment retrials- due to Texas’ two part trail system. The guilt/ innocence phase- and if found guilty, you move into the punishment phase. Out of 100% of few reversals out of the Texas appellate courts 98.5% are for punishment only. Yet another way to short change the criminal defendants. “A RE-SENTENCING RE-TRIAL” in a capital murder “Death Penalty Case” can mean only one of two possible verdicts- another death sentence (as 99.8% receive) or a Life Sentence, which consists of 40 calendar years “Day for Day” before a capital life sentence is ever eligible and considered for parole. (Keep in mind, there is no guarantee to parole in Texas).
With the odds stacked against them- the fortunate few who receive new sentencing retrials- are yet again flung back through an invidious broken system- and as the statistics show to date- 99.8% have most recently received another death sentence with court appointed, under paid, inadequate attorneys.
I myself, try to remain optimistic. My dilemma is that without proper investigations, the procurement of experienced experts witnesses and a good attorney to argue the facts, the chances are slim. As history has demonstrated “time and time again, here in Texas”. Furthermore, I am facing one of the Texas best and most notorious, the den of capital punishment in Harris County Texas- as they’ve executed more men than any other state in this country- and has the most men here on Texas infamous death row. Please consider my plight and help me, before I become another statistic. My thanks and regards for your time and consideration.
By CHARLES V. THOMPSON DEATH ROW PRISONER #999306
Retribution or Redemption
Retribution is just another word for revenge. Is it any surprise retribution is one of many arguments made for the support of capital punishment- as if death of a person is again balanced by the vengeful execution of another life. That fundamentalist view diminishes us all as a civilized society. All too often the pro- death culture claim that retribution is self justifying, a simple payback. Some attempt to use the Holy Bible: (Exodus 21:23,24) …”you shall give life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth…” Religious scholars actually teach that the eye for an eye scripture was an attempt to curtail violence in that period in early civilization (the old testament times), Biblical times in the Hebrew Culture, not in our millennium. Any intelligent study of scripture must be viewed in the full context of the whole Bible. Indeed we as a society don’t condone executing people for adultery. Conversely- it’s glamorized daily in our culture, as is idolatry. It’s safe to worship false idols and go on living. We’ve advanced in many areas yet taken steps backwards with the use of politics and the death penalty.
(Ezekiel 33:11) …”as I live, says the Lord, I swear I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked man, but rather in the wicked man’s conversion, that he may live…” Understanding the bible in its Historical context, upon reading Ezekiel 33:11 you’ve read the Lord swear. His wish is for man’s redemption, not vengeful execution. Let’s not over look the sermon on the mount (Mathew 5:1-7:29) wherein Christ focus is on mercy, reconciliation, and redemption. The forgiveness and passage into Heaven is available to all. As Jesus was himself facing the Death Penalty. (Luke 23:32,39-43) So were (verse 32) “two other men both criminals were also led out with Jesus to be executed (Luke 23:39). One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him; “aren’t you the Christ- save yourself and us.” (verse 40) But the other criminal rebuked him “Don’t you fear God” he said since you are under the same sentence. (verse 41) We are all punished justly for we are getting what our deeds deserve. “but this man has done nothing wrong” (verse 42) Then he said “Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom.” (verse 43) Jesus answered him, “I tell you, the truth, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
You’ve read it yourselves folks, there was only one man in the whole Bible that Jesus ever personally promised a place with him in paradise. Not Peter, not Paul, not any of the disciples. He pardoned a convicted thief being executed with Jesus, on the cross next to him.
It should be offensive to the least faithful believer that the Bible justifies executing people. This message was brought to you by a condemned man, a believer in Christ message and teachings. The power, truth and teachings are all his and ours. My utmost to his highest.
In Christ Charles Thompson Execution #999306 Polunsky Unit 3872 FM 350 S. Livingston, TX 77351
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Post by sclcookie on Apr 7, 2006 0:32:14 GMT -5
April 06, 2006
Uncensored from Runaway Chuck
Don’t Pass Go… Return to Death Row
One of the worst feelings in life is when that cell door slams shut on you. All time suddenly feels frozen. You’re no longer Smiths, Jones, your average Joes- you’re now prisoner #000000. You’ve entered a nightmare similar to the twilight zone. Only yours is a living nightmare within your worst dreams. The only worse type of a true nightmare is actually having one about prison- only to wake up in prison. You’ve reached life’s lowest moment, magnified x10. The day you enter the system hope begins to fade. Once convicted, hope begins to die a slow treacherous painful death. It tares at the very fabric of your soul, your physique.
Nothing can describe the empty lost feeling, it’s akin to being lost in the store as a young child- you panic, you feel abandoned, you feel tiny like a bug in a trap, you’re helpless to your surroundings. There once was a time when all prisoners knew not the injustices of our penal system. From that first brush with the law, to you first jail cell- life begins to take on a new cruel tuff love feeling. You ask yourself “How did I let this happen… why me?” The answers are self designed, only you hold them.
Contrary to the cause and effect, you’re now flung into the Dismal Dark Abyss. It is a foreign world, a different society with a completely different set of rules, unwritten codes, morals, prides, respect, some of what you know or knew on the outside applies. A lot of it doesn’t, the values and value system is totally different. Men get stabbed even killed for the simplest slip of the tongue. The obvious snitching, butting into another’s business or stealing said business, (under biding) or taking away a man’s hustle- any of these can get one in a real pickle. Even a disrespectful look or failure to acknowledge a person’s simple NOD is a greeting of “alright”, instantly is taken as disrespect, or even a sign of weakness if eyes are not met, if you looked away you just demonstrated a primal sign of weakness. Welcome to the jungle of prison society.
It’s like a twisted version of monopoly and Hard Knox Life wrapped up into one warped game, only you’re the pawn on the board. Make no mistake at all- it’s no game, it’s reality- it’s survival of the fittest. You must be strong mentally to endure the journey you are on, it’s a nightmare. Consider your plight and very existence on a day to day basis as you now embark into the criminal justice system.
You attempt to prepare for trial, you’ve no knowledge of the law, its rules, procedures, or functions. Courtroom conduct even is different. Its not like TV, you’re on trial for your life, you find out who (if any) friends you still have- who will speak on your behalf. All too quickly as the prosecution portrayals spill out, you begin to realize you’re in serious trouble. People you once trusted and thought you knew- are now witnesses against you. Parties to your being condemned.
Judges grant very few defense motions, actions and may seem to be a grand referee, only to shut your team down before you’ve even bespoken a word. A ruling- can indeed carry just that against your existence- you’ve just been over ruled, ruled against. Denied justice.
The legal system and all its pitfalls directly and indirectly steers your defense. You may intend to take the witness stand to defend yourself, to tell the truth, only to be told NOT TO by your attorney. You quickly learn why- legally if you do take the stand every BAD ACT you’ve ever even been ACCUSED of, now becomes public before your jury. YOU’RE VILIFIED, put up under a microscope and dissected.
Furthermore, you will be questioned about your charges, so you’ve defended yourself, but now if you take the stand and admit your defense in fear of your life- you have in effect just proffered a JUDICIAL CONFESSION and admitted guilt in the eyes of every appeals court from now on. Thus your attorneys sound legal advice- to assert your 5th amendment right to not testify. To your surprise you’re found guilty. You cling to hope as the appeals process is explained to you. Your whisked away to Death Row- in a haze of disbelief… a 5 day trial and you’re sentenced to death. How can this be? Your mind replays the trial over and over- you’re still to this day thinking “that’s not what happened, I didn’t get to defend myself.” New attorneys are appointed and the appeals begin, your transfer to Death Row, now your nightmare is re-lived, magnified by 10 all over once again. Years go by… 3 to be precise. You receive a letter stating your death sentence was reversed, but your conviction stands! How can this be? In short- you’ve been short changed by the system yet again.
A few more years toll by… you languish on death row with no death sentence- the prosecution appeals the ruling of your appeal. Finally word is received- you will be returned to the county jail to begin your re-sentencing retrial. It’s been 6 years since the day your death sentence was handed down. 4 of which you’ve just spent on Death Row with no death sentence.
You return to the county jail, meet with your attorneys and this twisted process begins all over again. Only this go around, your guilt is affirmed on appeal. You are now legally a convicted man, guilty of capital murder.
Now you begin picking a jury. 12 everyday people who have little to no knowledge of the system. Both sides speak with your potential jurors. It’s drilled into their head that you are legally guilty, found guilty of capital murder by a prior jury. (you got this awful sinking feeling), you’ve already been prejudged- as you’ve been prejudiced by the fact you’re a convicted man.
Hope is clung to by thread, you’re told to not re act, sit still, don’t look at the witnesses- as a living nightmare unfolds before your eyes. You’re numb, void of feeling afraid. They’re gonna kill you. Once again you can’t speak, told not to take the stand and all too quickly your re-sentenced again. Was there any doubt it would be death again? Hope was held, but died yet again. You’ve just been re-sentenced to death again. All those years past- you matured, changed, began to understand yet once again your lost in the abysmal system of death. The system does not work, it is designed to function, to convict you. If you’re poor, you lose, adequate and bold attorneys who’d fight a great battle- will cost a person their entire life’s earnings in a death penalty case. It is a fact the unlimited resources the state has at its disposal- tilts to the system in the prosecutions favor. Money makes the world go round.
The ole’ saying rings true- if you don’t have the capital, you get Capital Death.
Imagine the empty hopeless pit eating at your mind, as you’re faced with this twisted nightmare- you’re returning to Death Row. Your life’s reached an all time low. You are a walking dead man.
Would you sit and ponder your freedom?
Would you try to escape the chains of death?
Could you take such bold an action in order to live?
At some point Human Survival instinct overcomes your will indeed- we all possess that will to live. It is hard wired into us all.
My will to live is not gone. I’ll never give in to death’s call. I’ve tried to take you through a brief summary of it all. The half of it- I assure you all…
You’ve never heard half of the story of the circumstances that led to this all.
I thank you for taking the time to read this and to take a brief look into the abyss, this system we call just. I encourage you to get involved, take interest and act on it. Actions do speak louder than mere words.
In struggle, Charles Thompson Execution #999306 Polunsky Unit 3872 FM 350 S. Livingston, TX 77351
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Post by sclcookie on Apr 12, 2006 2:07:43 GMT -5
April 12, 2006
Welcome 2 Tha System!!!
We would like to introduce a new writer for Uncensored
William Berkley #999422 aka "Ghost" who has written for Rich's Uncensored has accepted being one of the writers for Uncensored. Thank you so much and thank you, Sam, for your help.
hugggz, Suzanne
Uncensored from A Simple Man
Introduction by Robert Pruett # 999411, aka "Simple Man"
Greetings and respects to all Uncensored readers! Suzanne recently contacted me and informed me about the renovations Uncensored is currently undergoing. She asked if I was interested in contributing by becoming a co-writer and, of course, I answered in the affirmative! :-) Some of you might remember me from my previous Uncensored postings. If my recollection is accurate my past articles weren't all that self-revealing, so I'll take the time here to not only give everyone a general idea of who I am, but also to outline what I plan on writing about.
I'm 26 years old and I've spent the last 11 years behind bars. (See: The Memoirs and Musings of Robert Pruett) Over the years I've strived to improve my moral fiber, follow honorable codes and principles, and educate myself in every way imaginable. As a child I was somewhat precocious, unquestionably inquisitive, but my interest in school and desire for knowledge waned soon after I became addicted to drugs. It wasn't until I found myself in a cold, steel cell with the prospect of spending the rest of my life in prison did I realize a change was in order and subsequently made a concerted effort to do just that.
Not long afterwards I regained that long lost desire to learn and attempted to assuage it by immersing myself in books. I soon discovered that I enjoy history, various sciences, philosophy, and countless other topics, not to mention novels of every flavor.
Besides reading I enjoy writing, most styles of music, following some sports, conversing with anyone interested, and life in general. I'm of the opinion that no matter where you are, what your position in life might be, or how horrible your past is, life can be an amazing experience. This wasn't always my perspective. Not so very long ago I was plagued by despair, cynical, pessimistic, and angry at the world. There came a time when I felt like saying to hell with it and dropping my appeals. Fortunately I survived such destructive states of mind and realized my error. For me this whole experience is simply a lesson to be learned. Hopefully I can continue to grow and mature as a human and have a little fun along the way.
I want to write a journal and post it with Uncensored. Hopefully I'll be able to write entries everyday and send them in once a week, but no promises there. My objective is to relay my experiences and perceptions of life on the row to you all, sprinkle in excerpts from my past, bore you to tears with my random thoughts and ideas ;-) , and just basically give the world a piece of Robert Pruett, a guy who really wants to be a simple man. I welcome all feedback and promise to respond to everyone in some way.
It is my hope that my contribution to Uncensored will be an informative and thought-provoking experience for all who read what I have to say. To me life's an awesome journey, I welcome you all along for the ride through my life.
One day at a Time,
Simple Man
Uncensored from Runaway Chuck
Introspeculations Of…
Imagine all the stages of misery endured by people left entombed in prison, then multiply that times 10 when you weigh in with the fear and stress of the condemned impending Death sentence. Perhaps it starts with pride- the product of hope and knowledge of one’s innocence. Then comes self doubt and worth (which can lead to mental derangement). Eventually most fall from the summit of pride and pray- not to God at first, but to men- then God is ultimately the majorities last refuge. Some unfortunate souls only come to the Lord after all other hopes are totally exhausted. Some- only days, hours before death.
It’s amazing at times the camaraderie and humor shared even in their last days. Some fellowships in prayer. I recalled prayers taught to me in my youth like it was yesterday. Suffering has a way of bringing you close to God and peace.
In our legal system- man’s law- imposed by and with our moral and judo-Christian beliefs- to pay or sacrifice one’s life as a reparation for the taking of a life- is the equal to revenge? Wouldn’t years or moral suffering and a lifetime in prison be worse? Most, surprisingly think so. Human justice is inadequate as a compensation of blood for blood, and eye for an eye.
This is a material act, one where our society attacked by the death of an individual among the mass of individuals it’s composed of; avenges that death by yet another death. Hatred is blind and anger is deaf. The one who pours and drinks from the cup of vengeance is likely to never quench that thirst. People are born virtuous and free, but are corrupted by society.
One fact for the faithful believers- How can one calculate the very act of killing in the name of killing? Is it not an oxymoron? Better to ask yourself- Do I wish to partake or contribute to the murdering of a man who is your brother before God?
Moses was the Highcu of holy men in the Bible- it’s a biblical fact he committed murder. Redemption and salvation is promised to us all, no matter what man’s laws dictate- God’s laws supersede all. Stereotypes and conforming to the will of the masses is what makes us such good shekels instead of living up to being God’s people. Just some insight from this side of the razor wire and gurney.
Charles Thompson Polunsky Unit #999306
Life’s Like a Soup Opera- It Reflects One
Just look at 10,000 years of recorded history. Its reflected so precisely; the egos and petty bullsh*t! It isn’t love that makes the world go around, not money either- it’s bullsh*t. Not to be cynical either, it’s Human Nature. That’s the one thing that’s never changed. Sure there’s the good part of human nature: Nobility, Charity, Self Sacrifice, even Courage… and Love. Love counts… It counts a lot- but along with it comes envy, covetousness, jealousy, greed, all the seven deadly sins. Jesus knew what he was talking about. That’s why- when ever doubt or any sinful thoughts or feelings occur- one should “take up the whole armor of God… praying always…” (Ephesians 6:13,18) Be one who wrestles before God with the tribulations of this world because “we are more than conquerors through him…” (Romans 8:37) Wrestling before God makes an impact in his kingdom. Prayer brings victory- taking up the whole armor of God. “All things work together for the good to those who love God.” (Romans 8:28) Put up a fight when empowered with his might- you’ll never be disappointed.
Charles Thompson Polunsky Unit #999306
Segregation
How do you deal with it… What is it like you ask? If only words could say… describe… living in a permanent time out, segregated from the world.
There’s no more sunshine and laughter in my day- I miss my friends voices in a deep lonely saddening way- so much missed- so much to say- it’s only been a little while, my time away- yet a life time, is what it feels like each day. Segregated all day. Not being able to call and brighten mom’s day. To never be able to call a friend and lean on them in that way; segregated all day. Alone with my thoughts, I stay each day- contemplating life’s betrayals each day. Segregated all day.
Misguided hopes- second chance dreams fading away- alone in my mind in my own miserable way, all feeling fades away, day in day out- I do the same dull routine every day… segregated all day.
Heartache and pain, the betrayal falls like rain, segregated from life in vain. Emotion and trust full steam forward or bust, meaningful relations die today with- segregation all day. Escape to your deepest retreat in your own way, grasping at sanity as all time and reality fade away- nothing matters. No clarity in your day. Segregation is your pain each waking day.
Roll with the punches, get knocked down, get up yet again. How can you be whole when your life’s less than half of what it was way back when… segregation.
Dreams fade to reality awaking, awake from a nightmare to find yourself living in a dream… into a dream you retreated, only to immerge into insanity into segregation. Feel no love, cry for nothing, abandon all attachments to life as you knew it. Know the loss of another as you lost yourself. Lost in deaths embrace each day. Segregation. Time is frozen as death lingers in the back of your mind each waking day- your time is coming one day- you must stay segregated.
Final curtain call, freedom calls today, segregation is over. It’s a trip to the gurney and grave today, your final miserable day.
No More Segregation.
Thank God its over on this beautiful day.
Charles Thompson Execution #999306 Polunsky Unit 3872 FM 350 S. Livingston, TX 77351
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Post by sclcookie on Apr 19, 2006 2:59:28 GMT -5
April 16, 2006 By Robert Pruett 999411 aka Simple Man Week 13 2006 March 31, 2006 Shakedown!! My day began at about 6:30am with a nice, hot shower. We went on lockdown status on the 29th for the bi-annual major shakedown and, unfortunately, on lockdown we only get to shower Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. That pisses me off more than anything else about lockdowns. It's like that system-wide and it doesn't make any sense (not that TDCJ applies logic to what they do) . Maybe on some of the older farms, where everyone has to march down the hallway to the shower area, such a rule would make sense because it takes quite a few officers to supervise everyone and they need the officers to do the shakedown, but the set up is different back here on 12 building, death row. Each pod is assigned 3 officers and those officers don't leave their assigned pod unless they're on break, even on lockdown. It only takes 2 of them to work the floor and run the showers and the other to open the doors in the control picket. Rather than do that, they lie down up in the control picket most of their 12 hours. Makes no sense. Anyhow, after I returned from the shower the shakedown crew rolled up into my section. According to policy they're supposed to take each inmate and his property to the dayroom and meticulously search every item for contraband, then pack it into a box that's approximately 2 cubic ft. Everything goes into the box except electrical appliances, clothes, shoes, legal work, and state issued items. If you have more property than what will fit into the box you either have to send it out or have it destroyed. (BTW-having it destroyed translates into giving it to their pets, inmates who snitch for them) Invariably there's at least one ranking officer with them as they sift through your stuff, so you'd think that they'd treat your property with respect, but that really depends on who's doing the shakedown and who the inmate is. Personally, I expect to be treated the way I treat people - with respect. I've seen them sling dudes sh*t around, look through their pictures and make smart ass comments, bend up artwork, "accidentally" bust open commissary items, and many other disrespectful / degrading things. Years ago they've done me like that. But we live and learn and I no longer allow them to treat me or my sh*t like that. If you carelessly toss my stuff around, then you gotta toss me around. Most of them realize that about me so I don't have those kinds of problems anymore. We've got an understanding of sorts. But yeah, the crew that hit this section today was a decent one. Most of them do their job and nothing more. I don't mind them doing their job, I just take exception when they feel that they need to do more than their job, which usually means they think it's their job to punish us. In a nutshell their job is to #1) maintain the security of the institution and #2) enforce policy/rules. Shakedowns are different in general population. Out there you're forced to carry all of your property to the gym and if you can't tote it all in one trip then you lose what you leave behind. I don't miss that! Also, back here on DR we strip out of our clothes in our cells and the officers escorting you to the dayroom inspect them and you, then you come out in boxers and shower shoes to the dayroom. In gp you strip out of your clothes as soon as you enter the gym and stand in one of 10-15 lines of inmates (there are about 15 guys in each line) with your clothes in your hands until it's your turn to walk up to the table where they're shaking your line down. Totally emasculating the first 4 or 5 times that you experience such a thing, but you get used to it after awhile. No doubt about it though, shakedowns on death row are immensely more pleasant than those in gp. After they inserted me back into my house ( yeah, I call it my house most of the time. A lot of guys refuse to because it's nothing like home for them, but I've lived in worse houses! :-) ) I quickly unpacked, cleaned up, then laid back down. I couldn't fall asleep last night until past lam so I was kinda tired and a short nap was in order. I'm a lazy MFer sometimes! :- Now I'm going to catch up on some letters, I'll talk to ya’ll tomorrow. April 1, 2006 GREAT NEWS FROM THE ROW!! We've just been informed that TV sets will be available to purchase from the commissary as soon as the lockdown is lifted! For those not fortunate enough to buy their own TV the administration will loan you one until you can gather up the money. And they are installing TVs in our dayrooms as I write this so we'll be able to watch when we go to rec.! Great news, eh?! Yeah, too bad it's April Fool's Day! :-( It's all a horrible joke, as many of you already realized. I really need to stop pulling pranks, people are gonna start hating me. Haha. One of the things I really enjoy about lockdowns is the peace and quiet. Guys tend to stay up late during lockdowns and they sleep in. With the dayrooms being empty it's usually silent until past noon, providing the perfect opportunity for uninterrupted introspection. As I emerged from yet another blissful night of dream sequence ( actually there's nothing sequential about my dreams, they're generally discontinuous, contradictory, and quite chaotic) I was able to reflect over the contents of my dreams and peacefully cogitate over them. I believe we can learn a lot about ourselves from our dreams. Our unconscious produces a variety of symbols and analogies that communicate psychic events and problems. If these are properly interpreted and integrated into the psyche problems can be avoided or fixed. My favorite psychiatrist, the late pioneer in psychoanalysis C.G. JUNG, wrote, "The general function of dreams is to restore our psychological balance by producing dream material that re-establishes, in a subtle way, the total psychic equilibrium." So yeah, I find it interesting and enlightening to analyze my dreams. Can't make much sense out of last night's, there were a lot of sexy girls involved! Not only would any analysis, or an attempt thereof, be inappropriate here, it might give credence to Freud and that's the last thing I want to do! Unlike him, I don't think all of our problems revolve around secret, repressed sexual fantasies of our mothers! Yikes! I'm geared up for the Final Four that's about to tip off. This year's NCAA tournament has been as exciting as I expected, it usually is, and I have no reason to think that the last three games will be any different. I've been a closest Gator fan for a number of years so I'm pulling for Florida to win it. George Mason has been impressive though, they could present huge problems for the boys from Gainsville. It's past 4pm and the pod is still tranquilly quiet. I guess everyone stayed up later than usual last night. Now that I think about it, I did hear a chess game going when they were passing out johnnies ( the sack lunches they feed us every meal on lockdown, in case you were wondering) at breakfast. Anyhow, I'll get out of here, gotta get ready for the games. April 2, 2006 Today was rather uneventful, typical for a Sunday on lockdown. Actually, it's not such a bad thing being on lockdown right now. With the clocks moving up an hour this morning (due to Daylight Saving Time) the lost hour of sleep is easily assimilated since we don't have to wake up for anything. I forced myself out of bed around 8am and have been up all day ( it' s 8:27pm ) so the lost hour shouldn't affect me. Anyhow, my day was spent finishing up some letters and listening to music. I like to channel surf up and down the dial, although there are a few stations that I rarely stop at. All of the country music and rock stations are mandatory, but I like the Mix station, too, they play a lot songs that I enjoy. I know this is cliché, but I believe music is food for the soul. And I LOVE the guitar! ! My father taught me to play when I was about 8 to the old country and later on I learned to play a little rock from my cousin John. If they'd give me an acoustic guitar with an unlimited supply of strings they could have everything else they allow me to have ( well, not my writing supplies; writing is my prime source of energy release and, more importantly, if I lost contact with my friends and family they'd all beat the crap out of me in the next life! :-) ) But yeah, the guitar is awesome. Listening to the likes of Jimmy Page, "Dimebag" Darrell, Stevie Ray, Clapton, and many more is like eating ambrosia straight from heaven. I imagine heaven being like the sound of the perfectly strummed guitar riff with the essence of my being intrinsically connected into the sound. Utter ecstasy, complete satiety. I just learned that we won't be getting our hygiene tonight. That's frustrating. Every Sunday we're supposed to get 5 bars of soap, l razor, and some bippy, which is a cleaning substance. Being on lockdown is no excuse to deprive us of our necessities. I understand that they can't give us state-issued clothes everyday on lockdown because the inmates in gp wash that stuff and they're locked down, too, but the hygiene is in the Necessity room here on 12 bldg., no reason why they can't give us that. I'll make an attempt to informally resolve this problem tomorrow. It being Monday, all the high rank will be around so hopefully common sense will prevail. Not that high rank invariably equates to common sense! ! The "Hard Show" is about to come on. Every Sunday from 10pm - midnight Wendy Miller from rock 103.7 plays nothing bat hardcore heavy metal (bands like Pantera, COC, Slayer, Iron Maiden, Sepultura, and all that testosterone laden music! :-) ) and I try to catch at least the first hour before crashing out. She does this really cool thing called the "Cellblock of Rock" where she'll read inmate mail and play requests for us. In an era when anti-inmate sentiment seems to be on the rise she shows us that she has a heart and that we're not forgotten. For that I applaud her. There are aspects of her personality that I don't particularly care for, but for this she has my utmost respect. Anyways, I'm off to the show, it should be a good one tonight, so I'll holler at ya'll tomorrow! One Day at a Time, Simple Man Robert Pruett 999411, Polunsky Unit, 3872 FM 350 S., Livingston, TX, 77351, USA www.simpleman-robertpruett.com contact@simpleman-robertpruett.com Please take into consideration that inmates do not have access to the Internet. Any correspondence will be printed out and forwarded to Robert by mail. Please allow at least three weeks for Robert to respond and make sure to include a mail address where responses should be sent.
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Post by sclcookie on Apr 19, 2006 3:00:02 GMT -5
April 18, 2006 By Robert Pruett 999411 aka Simple Man Week 14 2006 E-pod, B-section, 22 cell is where I currently reside. This pod is comprised of every level status: F-section is level 3, E & D sections are level 2, and C & E sections are level 1. A-section houses administrative segregation, levels 2 & 3. From my vantage point - up here on two row - I can see most of B-dayroom and a piece of C-dayroom. The control picket, which is centered on the pod so that the picket officer can see every section, is directly in front of my cell so I can see through the glass windows surrounding the picket into E and F-sections. Scratch that! Over the past few years my sight has gotten progressively worse (I think the fluorescent lights and limited sunlight are the culprits!) so it would be more accurate to say that I can see shapes and structures beyond B-dayroom, but they're very fuzzy, difficult to make out. I need glasses, it's just a pain in the neck getting the medical department to send me to Estelle Unit to get them. Oh well, as long as I can read and write I am good to go. There are 6 pods here on 12 building and the alignment is such that 16 sections face each other, giving the guys who live in those cells 3 view from their back window of another pod, possibly a patch of grass or a rooftop. The other 20 sections have a much broader view from their windows: fields of grass, sidewalks, the razor-wired fences that encompass the compound grass fields outside of the unit, guard towers, trees, and several streets. ] Fortunately for me, I live in a section with a decent view; although, it does kinda suck that everything is blurry! :-( From my window I can see a patch of green grass, a huge generator surrounded by a fence, a section of razor-wired fence, about 30 acres of a field, a road that circles the unit, another road that leads to the unit, an imposing guard tower, and medium sized trees that surround the entire expanse as far as the eye can see. I try to peer out the window at least once a day and check out everything that's going on. Birds flying around and dancing on the fences and grass, the truck that constantly circles the unit, sometimes the officer in the guard tower will walk around the balcony up there, and occasionally a group of gp field workers will be out in the field. Oh and every couple of weeks the inside yard crew will mow the grass just outside my window, I like to watch all of that unfold. It reminds me of the days when I worked on the Skyview Unit cutting grass. We'd start on one end of the compound and begin cutting grass. It would take about 10 days to mow the entire inside grass, so by the time we got back to our starting point the grass had grown back! It's a perpetual job. Good exercise, too. Earlier I gazed out the window and observed a few cars travelling up and down the road to the unit, a couple of birds at play, and the truck that drives around the unit making sure we aren't trying to slip through the fence. I'll bet whoever gets that job for the day (or night) gets bored in a hurry! Well, at least they get to smoke if they're smokers; there's no smoking allowed inside the fences. I'm excited about the national championship game between UCLA and Florida tonight! As I've already mentioned, I'm kinda pulling for the Gators, but I won't be disappointed if the Bruins win. One of my friends is an alumnus from UCLA and I know he'll be cheering for Ben Howland's team tonight! As long as it's a competitive game, I'll be satisfied. On that note, I'll slip away for the day. Rumor has it we'll be off lockdown by week's end, no telling though. April 4, 2006 They're letting us make commissary for stamps and hygiene tomorrow, which could be a precursor that the lockdown will last longer than I anticipated. Usually they'll run us for stamps and hygiene when they know we'll be down a little longer, but I have seen them let us up a few days after a stamp/hygiene run, so you never know. I have a minor rant that I want to get off my chest. Last night I received a letter from my father who's in ad. seg. on the Allred Unit. He explained to me that they're on lockdown over there as well and that the field officers were on his pod shaking down. He said that they turned their electricity off while shaking down and that he started banging on his door to get them to turn it back on. (There's really no reason to cut the power off during a shakedown. I've seen them cut the water off to prevent guys from flushing contraband, but cutting the power off is nonsensical.) The field lieutenant (highest ranking field officer) and a couple of subordinates walked over to his section and asked who was doing the banging, to which my dad responded with some very angry remarks that essentially questioned why they turned their power off. The Lt. retorted, "Because we felt like it and I think we'll keep it off for awhile now." Smart- mouthed motherf*cker! I worked in the fields for a number of years while in gp and know how most of those field bosses think and act. They're typically young and have a "John Wayne Complex," meaning that they think they have to act tough and show everyone who's running things. And they think their job entails punishing us, which it doesn't. Anyhow, my dad got a major disciplinary case for banging on his door and might lose his level 1 status. He has been in seg. since February of 2000 and this is his first case!! It's a fact that death row is treated better than ad. seg., despite the fact that we both live under the exact same guidelines (see: Ad. Seg./ Death Row Plan). The reason we are treated better, and that they wouldn't cut our power off like they did the guys on Allred, is because death row has more support. Countless anti-Dp groups, Amnesty International, and many other advocacy groups put too much pressure on these folks for them to blatantly break the rules. One of the first things I noticed when I arrived here in 2002 was that they generally try to keep officers back here who will obey the rules and as a result our living conditions are noticeably better than those of ad. seg. on other farms. If you ask me, it's a shame that we get treated better simply because we're waiting to die. The guys in seg. have a much harder road than we do, particularly those with life sentences and no chance of getting out of seg. They are the forgotten ones. April 5, 2006 Yesterday I wrote about my father's recent problems, today I think a brief excursus on him is in order. As I mentioned in a previous article (The Memoirs and Musings of Robert Pruett) I didn't meet him until I was close to 7 years old due to his incarceration. I was conceived several months before a cross country robbing spree, that included the willing abduction of my then 16 year old cousin Ronnie who was staying in a foster home, that culminated in his arrest in Arizona. Subsequently, he was extradited to Missouri where he was convicted and sentenced to 10 years for some robberies in that state. Seven years later I laid eyes on him for the first time at the airport in Houston, Texas. Growing up without my dad left an indelible scar on me, even if I didn't realize it until years later while sitting in a prison cell contemplating my life. Absent from my early years were the guidance, discipline, leadership, wisdom, and love that only a father can provide. The only male role models that I had to look up to were my brother, an adolescent still finding himself, and a decrepit old man my father spent time with in prison in the 1960s that I called Grandpa. He wasn't my biological grandfather, just a guy my dad knew who became family to us over the years. His name was Robert Sutton and I was named after him (I was also named after his son, Tommy Lynn, who was, incidentally, arrested with my father and Ronnie in Arizona in 1979.). Anyhow, my mother had several boyfriends while my dad was inside, but most of them were anything but role models. I recall one guy named James who beat the crap out of me once and as I was crying I yelled, "Just wait until my dad gets home, he'll kick your ass!!" in my screechy 4 year old voice. He hit me again and sternly replied," Your dad's a punk and he's probably enjoying a good ass-f*cking right now! Don't you know what goes on in prison?!" Yeah, it's safe to say that if he knew my dad he wouldn't have said such a thing. At least not to his face! :-) Before I go any further I want to be clear: I don't blame anyone except myself for the way my life turned out. I recognize how influential the environment is in shaping human behavior, and I'm convinced that genetics are equally (if not more) influential in determining our predispositions, but any behavioral scientist will tell you that neither of these are all-powerful. I think we have our own volition and at the end of the day we're the ones who determine whether or not to turn left or right. That said, people are predisposed to certain types of behavior and their genetic commands might seem irresistible at times, but we are autonomous beings and we ultimately decide if we want to obey them or not. In my life I have made bad decision after bad decision and there's no one to blame except myself. I don't point fingers, I take responsibility for all of my choices. I was undoubtedly influenced by my environment, and my conditioning pointed me in all the wrong directions, yet I knew when I was in the wrong and chose to act the way I did anyhow. Many people have grown up in similar circumstances as I, yet they find a way to reach inside and overcome all of that. I failed in that regard. Just know that when I write about my family and my past I'm not whining, pointing fingers, or blaming anyone for my life, I'm simply relaying things as I perceive them and indicating things that I believe were influential, not all-determining. Back to my father. Over the years I've heard most of his stories and, being someone who is intrigued by human behavior and it's etiology and has studied the subject, some of the things that influenced his behavior are apparent to me. As a child his socioeconomic status was well above the average person's. A white kid with a very successful family in the oil equipment business in Corpus Christi, Texas, they had everything they needed. But things weren't easy for him. Not in the least. Born Friday the 13th in December of 1946, his fanatically religious mother and grandmother were convinced he was evil. I've heard the stories about them calling him a devil child and treating him like the scum of the earth. It's hard to believe any mother would do such a thing, but his siblings confirmed his stories. Before he was old enough for school he'd been brain-washed into believing that he was evil. "I'm cursed and I've always been! Just look at my life and all of the signs!” I've heard that a time or two. He also points out that his name - Howard Steven Pruett - has 6 letters in each name, a reference to the number of the beast in Christian mythology (Revelations 13,18). Now he says all of this jokingly, but you gotta wonder how it all affected him as a child. Maybe he once believed such nonsense? Not only did he have a psychotic mother, his father was an alcoholic prone to physically and mentally abusing his children. And he took a special interest in my dad. Once, an old coon dog that they had came up missing and my dad figured he ran away. Several days later the house they were living in and the surrounding area started stinking of dead animal and my grandfather looked under the house and saw where the dog had crawled under it and died. Must've been snake bit they thought because they lived in snake country. Anyhow, grandpa made my dad get naked and crawl under the house to retrieve his dead dog. His reasoning was that he didn't want him to get his clothes dirty so he told him to take them off. My dad was afraid to crawl under there because snakes where all the time slithering out from under the house and fleas were under there as well. But he sucked it up, crawled under and pulled the dog out, and his dad then picked him up and threw him into the cement pond (yeah, I know, Beverly Hillbillies like a MFer! ) to wash the fleas off! His older brother Bill had offered to get the dog out from under the house, but grandpa wanted my dad to. I guess he wanted a laugh. He was a mean old bastard from all that I hear. According to my dad, he started getting into troubles shortly after his sister, Lema, moved out with her husband, Wayne Mclain. She used to protect him and he felt closer to her than anyone. She was the one who consoled him when everyone else came down on him. So when she left he felt that she had abandoned him and a deep resentment developed towards her over the years. Until the day that she died he was still mad at her, yet he never stopped loving her. So he started screwing up at every turn. He stole a truck with another little boy when he was about 10 (I think?) and his mother told the authorities that she couldn't control him any longer and they shipped him off to reform school. By the time he was 17 he "graduated" to the penitentiary (as he so fondly describes it), a place he was in and out of all of his life. Alright, enough about my family for the day. This is a daily journal and I want to discuss my family and my past, but I don't want it to be all about that. So I'm determined to write at least a little something about the things going on here on Polunsky each day. There will be days when I write nothing about me, my family, or my past, but I'm going to make an effort to mention something about this place in every entry. Unfortunately there isn't much to report today. We're still on lockdown, yet the end is in sight. The rumor I heard earlier is that the shakedown crew is on their last pod (A-pod) and we should be up after they finish with it. My feeling is that we'll be up by Friday. Something I forgot to mention a couple of days ago is that the sun sets on my back wall where the window is. The sunset should occur in about an hour and I plan on watching it, I'll relay the experience here afterwards, cool? Cool. Okay, let me attempt to describe this: I folded my mattress in half and stood up on it so I could peer out the window without tip-toeing. The sun was still extremely bright, I couldn't look directly at it when I first looked out the window. Instead I looked to the left of it and took in everything else for a moment. The blinding, bright light illuminated the razor-wired fence and the fence surrounding the generator just to the left of my cell. Everything was glowing as the sun cascaded over every object in my sight, magnifying its color. The little white truck that circles the unit was parked out in front of the guard tower and I noticed the driver get out and motion towards the person in the picket. It looked as if they were about to witness the sunset with me. As the sun began to dim I closed my eyes and turned my head facing it. My eyelids turned bright white as I gazed at our 15 billion year old star and finally I opened them to take in its rays. It took a few seconds for my eyes to become acclimated and I was able to survey the glorious scene unfolding in front of me. A plethora of changing colors illuminated the sky and the earth as the sun inexorably moved towards the horizon: bright shades of orange and red merged to create an abundance of other color, mutating hues of blue and purple shined through the white swirled clouds, and a variety of birds flew around bathing in the magnificence of it all. I soon found myself lost in thought, pondering not only the awesome scene transpiring, but also life's imponderables. Such acts of nature induce deep philosophical thought, yet I didn't want such distractions right then. Philosophies, concepts, doctrines, and world-views of any sort would only diminish the experience. I wanted to just observe and absorb and I tried to clear my mind of all thought. Reflection could be reserved for a later time. So I watched in awe the beauty of nature. Life truly is an amazing experience, how exciting it is to be involved in it all! April 6, 2006 I'm gonna go out on a limb and predict that the lockdown will be lifted tomorrow. To be fair, all the signs point in that direction so don't start calling me Nostradamus if it turns out that way! :-) They fed us a hot meal today for last chow ( tuna casserole... bon appétit!) and the officers working the pod say that the shakedown crew finished DR earlier, all of which indicates that we'll be up in the morning. Of course you never can tell with these people, they often seem hell-bent on defying logic. Sometime after the lockdown I plan on writing down my daily schedule. I don't exactly have one right now and when I do formulate one it certainly won't be immutable; maintaining a repetitious schedule for any extended period of time isn't conducive to my mental well-being. I'll note the adjustments I make to my schedule as time passes. But right now I want to tell you about one of the things I try to do everyday: get my comedy fix!! First of all, I understand that, "the happy ending is justly scorned as a misrepresentation; for the world, as we know it, as we have seen it, yields but one ending: death, disintegration, dismemberment, and the crucifixion of our heart with the passing of the forms that we have loved." (Joseph Campbell, " The Hero With a Thousand Faces")Tragedy is the realization that everything changes, everything dies, decay is inherent in all things, nothing lasts forever, and life is fleeting. In tragedy we come face-to-face with the harshness of the life cycle on this plane of reality, but comedy offers a diversion, a respite of sorts, from this wicked garden. Furthermore, it points, in a subtle and sometimes metaphoric manner, to the transcendence of this ephemeral level of reality, beyond the field of opposites, to that ethereal state from whence all things derive and return. Living in a place where tragedy roars its ugly head almost daily, I try to find a balance with a heavy dose of comedy. Every weekday at approximately 4:20pm the classic rock station in Houston ( 93.7 The Arrow) does what they call a "birthday scam." Dean and Rog, the hosts, get information from a winning contestant about a problem a friend or family member of theirs is having with some organization (i.e. a Home Owner's Association) and they call the target and scam him/her. As soon as this person answers the phone Dean or Rog pretend to be a representative from whatever org. said person has a beef with and the comedy unfolds. They usually make some smart-ass comments, question the person's intelligence and integrity, then they give it up right when the victim is about to explode with rage, "Do you have a birthday coming up? [Such and such] wanted us to call and do the birthday scam, happy birthday!" It's usually some funny sh*t, especially when the person getting scammed starts cussing and making threats! Haha! Another station (Rock 103.7) does an " 8:20pm funnies" when they'll play skits from a stand-up comic who performs at the Houston Improv. People like Eddie Murphy, George Carlin, Cedric the Entertainer, Robbin Williams, Dave Chappell, and many others perform there, so you can probably imagine how funny some of those skits are. Besides those two sources, I get my comedy fix from a couple of sit-coms that I can catch on the radio. "The King of Queens' and "That 70's Show" come on every week-night and I try to listen to them if I'm not too busy. The kids from That 70's Show remind me of me and my old friends from the world, sans all the weird clothes ! J (No offense to all you folks from the 70s! Hehe.) In my opinion Fez and Red make that show go, but Kelso is pretty funny in his own right. I've heard that the new ones don't have Kelso or Eric. Hmmm....that's gotta be weird. Anyhow, I've loved comedy from as far back as I can remember. Laughing soothes the soul, I recommend a daily dose! If I can find humor in something every day, or maybe make someone else laugh, then it has been a good day. April 7, 2006 I was wrong, we didn't come off lockdown this morning. They ran showers and told us it would probably be Monday before they let us up. We are getting hot meals though, which is a plus for me because I need my veggies!! : -) Now that I know that we won't be recreating or showering this weekend, I can finish the book I've been reading without too many interruptions. I'm reading, "The Tao of Physics: An Exploration of the Parallels between Modern Physics and Eastern Mysticism" by the physicist Fritjof Capra. The esoteric disciplines intrigue me. I don’t practice any specific religion, I guess you could say that I take an eclectic approach to spirituality; I perceive truth in most religions, but only a penultimate truth because I don't think the ultimate is capable of being completely expressed in any way on this level of existence. The best we can do is use symbols and metaphors and these can never communicate anything Ultimate. Yet they point us in the right direction and assist in evoking the Infinite into consciousness. It just gets tricky when people start interpreting their symbols literally. Anthropomorphize God if you want, but to maintain that such images are the Final Reality leads to the spilling of blood. Anyhow, I digress. Seeking enlightenment has consumed me for quite some time now and I do think that I'm on the right track, that I've glimpsed the ineffable, but I'm far from being spiritually mature...On my spiritual journey I found myself seeking out information about quantum physics and soon began reading any books I could get my hands on pertaining to that awesome field. At first I wasn't sure why or how I became interested in such a random subject, and I'm still not entirely sure, but I think that anyone seeking spiritual understanding and knowledge in this day and age who has an undeniable scientific proclivity as I do, well, that person will be directed towards modern physics. And the book that I'm reading is the first I've ever read that discusses the many similarities between two seemingly diametrically opposed fields: eastern mysticism and modem physics (relativity theory& quantum theory). In the past I have picked up on some of these parallels (i.e. both insist that the universe is interconnected, one), but this book elaborately details every known congruency between the two fields. So I'll use the weekend to immerse myself in it and finish it up. It should be stimulating, exploring metaphysics and science usually is for me. I'm weird that way I guess. :-) April 8-9, 2006 You'll have to excuse me if I sound extra incoherent today, I've just emerged from the subatomic world where particles travel at velocities exceeding 40,000mph, pop into and out of existence, don't know whether they want to be particles or waves, and only show “tendencies” or “probabilities to occur”!! That's the realm of atomic physics and any attempt at conceptualizing that reality is useless. It's like trying to comprehend the ancient Koans: ”What was your original face - the one you had before your parents gave birth to you?” “You can make the sound of two hands clapping. Now what is the sound of one hand?” Mind-boggling, eh?! Nevertheless, physicists try to form concepts that convey their equations, but they admit that words or concepts can never express the two levels of reality that they deal with. And I've been contemplating their attempted concepts all weekend so my brain has turned into putty! :-) Please bear with me until I can regain my mental faculties! Hehe. As I expected, the weekend has been quiet and uneventful, with just one exception: one of the guys in the ad. seg. section lighted his mattress on fire. I can't see through the window of the door separating our sections, but my neighbor can and he told me that he team was standing in front of his cell prepared to run in, but after they gassed the guy he submitted to hand-restaints and came on out. They then proceeded to take all of is property out of his cell and return him to it. As to why he did what he did, well, your guess is as good as mine. I'll probably find out after they lift the lockdown. I've thoroughly enjoyed the peace and quiet all weekend, it has made reading and ruminating so much easier. They usually keep the run and dayroom lights off during a lockdown unless they're feeding or running showers. It's sorta like putting a blanket over a bird cage, as soon as you do so the bird gets quiet! Haha. But hey, I like the ambiance during lockdowns, it sure beats all the noise and banging on a regular day. That said, I'm ready for some recreation so I can resume a regular work-out regimen. We'll be up tomorrow, I can feel it!! ;-) One day at a time, Simple Man Robert Pruett 999411, Polunsky Unit, 3872 FM 350 S., Livingston, TX, 77351, USA www.simpleman-robertpruett.com contact@simpleman-robertpruett.com Please take into consideration that inmates do not have access to the Internet. Any correspondence will be printed out and forwarded to Robert by mail. Please allow at least three weeks for Robert to respond and make sure to include a mail address where responses should be sent.
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Post by sclcookie on Apr 28, 2006 2:42:55 GMT -5
April 28, 2006 Hi y'all. I hope all you faithful readers Of Uncensored are doing well. Just an FYI, we are definately getting peoples attention thanks to the guys writing. Speaking of.....we have a new writer for Uncensored. Thank you Robert Will 999402 for all your help and huggggz, Suzanne By Robert Pruett 999411 aka Simple Man Week 15 2006 April 10, 2006 Mom kept asking me if I wanted some ice cream, but I didn’t think we could afford it, so I told her no. She persisted, "Come on now, it's strawberry, you'll love it." “But, Mom, we can't afford it and besides, you know I don't like strawberry ice cream!” “Don't worry about what we can afford! I wanna buy my boy some ice cream, I buy my boy some ice cream. And you love strawberry, what's that nonsense you speak?” “Yeah, I love strawberries, not strawberry ice cream! You know that, quit being silly!” “Alright then, do you want to shower?” “Huh?” ”Pruett, do you want to shower?” officer Richmond asked as I was in the midst of a nice little dialogue with my mom, bringing me back to reality. With one eye open I glanced at the clock which read 6:12am and told him that indeed I was going to shower. He told me to get ready and I did just that. After shower I learned that we are still on lockdown. Yeah, yeah, make your jokes, I already know that I have no future as a prognosticator! It's really hard to accurately predict anything that these folks will do, yet I find myself venturing guesses periodically. Since I have been here they have always lifted lockdowns as soon as 12 building (DR) has been shaken down, this is the first time they haven't. I went out to visitation earlier and spoke with Sgt. Thompson and he said, ”We were waiting for them to finish shaking GP down. They are finished now, so I don't see why ya’ll won't be up in the morning.” His words, not mine! I think the new warden probably told them to keep us down until GP was finished, this never happened under previous wardens. Who knows though. Today I had the first of two four hour visits with my friend Jolee. (Hi Jolee ;-) ) This is the first time we have met in person, so we were both a bit nervous, but everything went smoothly and I had a blast out there with her. Hopefully tomorrow will be as pleasant as today, I have no reason to think that it won't be. One thing alarms me: Last night I had an incredibly difficult time sleeping. I was anxious to meet my friend and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about the next day. This has happened to me in the past. In fact, it almost invariably happens when I know I have a visit coming the next day. Sleep is elusive and when I do succumb to it it is only a light sleep. It makes me feel sluggish the next day, and despite how many times my visitor tells me I'm okay, I feel like a complete dumbass. So why does this alarm me now if it’s a recurring theme? Because I thought that I was beyond this. One of the fundamental things that I strive for is equanimity. All of my life I have been controlled, by fear and desire and I have been working on ridding myself of both. I know that such a thing is exceedingly difficult to accomplish, yet it's not impossible to do. I've noticed some progress on my part, but last night showed me that I still have a long way to go. I'm alarmed because I thought I was much further along than what I am. This is a humbling experience to say the least. No offense to any of my visitors, this has nothing to do with you all, it's all me and I’ll work it out. Alright, I gotta try to catch a ride with the sandman tonight because I have the second part of my visit tomorrow. Talk to you after I return sometime. April 11, 2006 I'm utterly exhausted! We're closing in on the witching hour as I begin this and I should just call it a day and crash out, but I'll go ahead and fill in this entry. Whatever I miss tonight I'll cover tomorrow. As I accurately predicted, we came off lockdown this morning! J I was awakened early this morning by the sound of chatter emitting from the dayroom. To make sure I wasn't dreaming I pinched myself on the arm (a universally accepted test! Haha!) and stumbled to the sink to throw some water on my face. Yep, we are off lockdown status. Today was the second part of my visit so I got ready for that, then listened to the “Rod Ryan Show” on the Buzz (94.5) until they came to get me. The visit today was even better than yesterday's except for the part when they told us it's time to go. That part always sucks! But I had a great time. It was close to 4:30pm when I returned so I was told that I'd be going to rec on second shift. Since I was the last one for rec I was able to choose which dayroom I wanted to go to and I decided to go to D-dayroom so I could talk to a guy I haven't seen in awhile. While at rec I conversed with him and did some pull-ups and push-ups. I haven't exercised at all since we went on lockdown so I imagine I'll be a little sore in the morning, but that's a good thing; I need to get back into the flow of things. After rec I was immediately inserted into the shower. The water was scalding hot, just what I needed after a long, exciting day. They gave me my necessities after I was returned to my house and I immediately read the letter I received while at rec. It was from my mom, I'll write her tomorrow. Tonight I had to write someone else and I just finished that prior to starting this. Today was a productive and stimulating one on many levels. Now it’s time to crash out, I'll talk to you tomorrow! April 12, 2006 I have the misfortune of living in the first cell on two row in my section. This means that I'm the first one to rec on every even numbered day (one row goes out first on odd numbered days) and that's usually around 6:30am. When I was asked about rec this morning I almost Vred (verbally refused) because my body did not want to get out of bed! I didn't fall asleep until about 1am last night, but I stretched and let out a thunderous yawn in affirmation that I'd be going out to rec. I crawled out of bed, brushed my teeth, washed my face, combed my hair, fixed my second to last cup of coffee, then listened to the news until they came to get me for rec. Once out there I talked to the other guys in the dayrooms for a few minutes, debated on whether or not I would work out as I finished my coffee, admired the lithe mailroom ladies as they picked up our mail, then proceeded to exercise. I did push-ups, sit-ups and pull-ups. Two hundred reps each on the first two and 75 reps of the last one. I’ll definitely increase those numbers as my body adapts to the added strain. Truth be known, I was just tired and lazy this morning. Haha. They returned me to my house around 8:50am. I think I got an extra 10-15 minutes of rec time, whoo-who!! I knew that lunch would be here shortly thereafter so instead of taking a nap which I desperately wanted to do, I read the latest Discover magazine. As I was finishing it up I heard them pushing the chow cart into the pod. They had some sort of beef stew as the entrée, corn, pinto beans, green beans, and biscuits. It was actually pretty good. After lunch I addressed some envelopes and straightened my locker box up as I waited on my shower. With this two hour rec format for level 1s it’s almost guaranteed that the first round of rec will have to wait until they feed lunch, switch out the second and third rounds of rec, and pick up trays before they get showered. Today I didn't get into the shower until close to 12:30pm. Afterwards, I crawled back into bed and took an hour nap! I know it, I'm a lazy MFer! It was just after 2pm when I arose reinvigorated. I made my last cup of coffee (boy I hope we get to make store tomorrow, I am out of everything) and pulled out my mother's letter, which I received last night. I reread it and pulled out my pen and paper to respond to her....... When I was free my mother and I were very close. She was my nurturer, my comforter, my confidant. With her I could do no wrong. I recall times when I'd get into trouble at school or in the neighborhood and she'd almost always handle me herself rather than tell my dad, who was at work, because she knew he'd bust I disagree. She'd usually just talk to me sternly and make me do some chores. She did that because she didn't like seeing me hit in any kind of way. I love her for that, but in retrospect I wish she would’ve let my dad kick I disagree a little more, it might have made me think twice before I pulled some of the crap that I did. Because when my dad disciplined me he had my full attention and I understood every word out of his mouth! Yes, Sir! ;-) When he said something I did it, no questions asked! In my first case the assistant district attorney told our jury that I was the chief of my house, my family the Indians. HA! Bull-f*cking-sh*t! Make no mistake about it, my dad ran his household. So yeah, my mom and I were best friends the entire time I was free. She stayed close to me for about the first year of my incarceration, then things got pretty complicated. Letters became infrequent, almost nonexistent. There was a span when I didn't see her for close to 5 years, or anyone else for that matter. In her defense she had no money and was totally dependant on others to provide for her (still is), so I can see the cause some of her behavior. But back then it shocked me. Not hearing from her for months at a time, having letters returned to sender because she'd moved without informing me, and the overwhelming feeling of being neglected disturbed my 17 year old mind, inducing a state of despair that nearly ended my life. It wasn't entirely her behavior that caused my languished state of mind, that 99 year sentence for a crime I didn't commit had a crippling affect no doubt, but I think her behavior affected me more than anything. I felt alone in the world for the first time, and what a shockingly violent world I was forced into. As the years passed I came to understand her behavior a little better. My mother isn’t mentally capable of dealing with me and my situation on any sort of regular basis. It eats at her soul, sends her whirling into seemingly irretrievable bouts of depression, and causes extreme levels of anxiety. I've suspected this for a number of years, but I felt it at the core of my being the last time I visited with her. She can't handle it, so she (subconsciously) avoids it as much as possible. It has taken me awhile to not only realize this, but to accept it. I do now. Nothing can ever convince me that she has stopped loving my father, brother, and I, it's just that she can't think about us and our situations for very long. Imagine how it must feel to lose your entire family just like that. She hasn't committed any crime, yet she is forced to suffer along with us. That hurts me deeply. And I don't blame her in the least for the way she deals with us. Truth be told, it's hard for me to face her myself. All that being said, we write each other every couple of months and she tries to find a ride down my way to visit once a year or so. It's works for us and I'm content with our relationship these days. She’s Mom and I’ll always love her. I finished her letter just after the “birthday scam” and then cleaned my house. I typically sweep and wash my floor every Mon., Wed., and Fri. sometime after I shower so I can use my towel to sweep. Those are the days that we exchange our towels for clean ones. I also clean my stainless steel wall and toilet with bippy on those days, although I'm constantly wiping it down everytime I use the toilet or sink. No sooner did I finish cleaning did I begin writing this entry. They're about to change shifts right now (they change out at 6pm and 6am) and I'm about to wrap this up and read the rest of the night. Depending on whether I get some mail or not that is. If I get a letter tonight I might go ahead and respond we'll see. But right now I'm gonna get out of here. April 13, 2006 Last night we were informed that this pod isn't making commissary until the 19th. We haven't made store since late March, and everyone is out of everything, so naturally the announcement was met with a collective sigh and a few expletives! J I'm going to take advantage of this opportunity and use it to quit drinking coffee......again! Haha. I've' quit several times in the past, but I invariably rationalize that it isn't such a bad habit and fall off the wagon. Don't get me wrong, I love the boost that it provides, it's just a real bummer late in the day dealing with the energy crash. Besides that, I've grown dependant on it again and that bothers me. I'll be over the caffeine headaches by the time we make store anyhow, might as well leave the stuff alone. One row went to rec first this morning so I slept in. I needed that after not getting much sleep since Sunday. By the time they made it up to two row with the recs they were finished with rec in A-section, the section that went outside today, so I was able to get put outside. It felt great to get some fresh air, soak up the sun, and run around like a kid just out of school! I try to do that every time I go out there. There's a basketball, a basketball goal, and a pull-up bar outside and if I'm not shooting hoops, doing pull-ups or some other exercise, I'm running around, walking on my hands, turning flips, or climbing on the bars that hold the goal onto the wall!! I'm still a kid at heart, always will be. April 14, 2006 I went to sleep last night with every intention on going to rec this morning, but when they asked me if I was going out I said no. I was sleeping too good! As I've mentioned in the past my house is located directly in front of B-dayroom. The space separating my door from the bars that encompass the dayroom is approximately 4ft., so I can see most of the dayroom rather clearly. Before we went on lockdown I was conversing with a guy in this dayroom (I'll leave names out of this for the sake of anonymity) and I noticed a nervousness about him that hadn't been so conspicuous in the past. He had a slight stutter, fumbled with appropriate words to fill his end of the dialogue (unusual for him, he's a very articulate man), kept moving his arms and touching his hands together as if to conceal an almost imperceptible tremble and he averted his eyes from my cell so we rarely made eye contact. I've only known him for a few years so I asked, “Since you've been on this unit have you noticed a change in your social skills? Has it become an effort at times to communicate with others face-to-face?” He thought about it for a few seconds then replied, ”Without a doubt.” Seeing him in the dayroom like that reminded me of an old observation of mine: the architectural design of 12 building on these “Michael Prototype” units can, and often does, contribute to our diminishing social skills. We are confined to these cells for 22 hours per day for 5 days a week (24 hours per day the other two days). Most of the time when we communicate we are doing so through our doors, not looking directly at anyone, just at a lot of steel and iron. Sometimes one becomes so absorbed in what he's doing that he may go days without talking to anyone. Over an extended period of time this type of living can have adverse effects on our communication skills, if one isn't careful That's why I think it's important that we don't become reclusive and cut off communication with others here, but rather we should make a point of interacting with others as much as conveniently possible. This place can only break you if you allow it to. I vividly recall a conversation I had on Connally unit in October of 2000 (while on 12 building) with a guy I hadn't seen since 1997 in GP. Throughout the conversation I kept thinking that something was different about the guy, I just couldn't put my finger on it. Finally I said, “Dude, you seem different, I'm not sure how though. Are you taking psych meds or something?” He took a deep breath, looked at my cell, looked to his left then right, then refocused on my cell and said, ”No, I ain't on psych dope. It's this f*cking seg sh*t, man. It's got me all screwed up, can't even talk right anymore.” Are you not convinced that the lack of communication, or even this abnormal way that we are forced to interact, contributes to the diminished social skills that many of us exhibit? Emperor Frederick, the thirteenth-century ruler of the Holy Roman Empire, wanted to know what language had been spoken at the birth of mankind in the Garden of Eden. Was it Hebrew, Greek, or Latin? He ordered an experiment in which the original circumstances would be re-created as closely as possible. A group of infants were to be isolated from hearing all human speech from the moment of birth until they spoke their language. The babies were to be raised by wet nurses who were strictly charged to maintain complete silence when with the babies. All the conditions of the experiment were successfully carried out. The result? Every one of the babies died! The lack of communication is often toxic and can be lethal. (Robert Bolton, Ph.D. ”People Skills”) For the record, I have certainly noticed this phenomenon in myself. In fact, earlier this week it was pointed out to me at visitation. Even though I am aware of such things and try to circumvent them, I'm not impervious to it all. It's a constant battle, but with awareness and determination we can prevail. April 15-16, 2006 Let me make a couple comments about yesterday's topic. I've talked extensively with guys here about the debilitating effects this milieu has on one's social skills. One of the things that bothers some dudes is being in those dayrooms. The cells surround the dayrooms and everyone has a view of it and whoever is in it. Some dudes have told me that they feel as if they are on a stage out there, as if everyone is watching them, evaluating their every move. Of course they admit that this isn't happening, but the feeling is present nonetheless. Also, the officers are required to strip-search us every time we exit the day room and for many such a thing is not only degrading, it's emasculating. I grew up in prison (literally, I've been here since I was 15) so stripping naked doesn't have this affect on me, nor does going to the dayrooms, but I know this isn't the case for a lot of guys here. Some guys are so afraid of being put in the “spotlight” that they never even go to rec! Little do they know, refusing to recreate and to come out of the cell from time to time can have an even worse psychological effect. So yeah, I think that the way these dayrooms are designed plays a role in some guy's fading social skills. I'm not sure what they can do about it either. When I first came to prison I had to strip ass-naked in front of hundreds of men several times a day. I At first it made me paranoid and extremely defensive, but after some time I became used to it. I told myself that I wouldn't blow-up on anyone so long as they didn't make any moves on me! ! J One time I yelled out," Hey motherf*ckers, you can look but don't touch!!" Haha! Anyhow, I guess guys will either get used to it or find some way to deal with it. We got a new mailroom supervisor not too long ago and the result has been delayed incoming and outgoing mail. I talked with one of the mailroom ladies the other morning and asked her what the problem was, she said, “Things are a little crazy right now with the new supervisor, plus we're short-staffed, but we're working on it.” That would be nice. Alright, I don't want you people thinking that I'm whining about all of this, I'm not. I'm stating facts when I write about things here. If what I write is merely an opinion or a perception of mine I try to make that abundantly clear (correct me if I'm wrong). Everything I've written thus far pertaining to our living conditions has been objective (or intersubjective) and when it's just an opinion, etc.... I think I've been explicit about it. I try not to complain about anything, that's not my style. But if I do, well, sue me! J Personally, I tend to think of this as just another learning opportunity. Adversity is intricately (and intrinsically) apart of life no matter where you are. Sure, this might seem like an extreme place to be for some, but there are much rougher places in the world. I'm thinking Third World countries, Iraq, parts of Africa, and even some parts of the USA. But no matter where you find yourself on this plane of existence, there are lessons to be learned through adversity, that's just the way of life. And we are strengthened by adverse situations. I firmly believe in the maxim, “That which does not kill me only makes me stronger.” One of the greatest songs ever recorded just came on the radio......”Free Bird” by Lynyrd Skynyrd!!!! I love this song, it reminds me of a time when I was riding with my brother in his truck. We were just cruising around, blowing off steam, and I crawled half way out of the passenger's side window and screamed,”and this bird you'll never cha-ain-ain-ange, owhoa-whoa-whoa!” as I flapped my arms in the wind! J My bro just laughed and told me to get my crazy ass back into the cab! Haha. That's me though, I like to be wild sometimes and have fun with life. That's the meaning of life if you ask me: to live in the moment and enjoy yourself as much as you can. Sure you gotta take care of business and perform your duties, but that doesn't mean you can't be a kid occasionally and be silly. Find that kid inside that you keep repressing, release your inhibitions, and grab life by the horns, you'll thank yourself in the morning. So what's so exciting about death row? How can a man be happy in this situation? Well, first of all, I don't believe happiness or peace of mind come from external things. Haven't you heard the stories about those billionaires who say they are depressed and can't seem to “find” peace of mind? They own the world, have the most beautiful spouses, have seemingly unlimited power, but they aren't happy inside. It's because you won't ever find “peace of mind” or true happiness from material things. (And don't mix up pleasure with happiness, that's not the same. True happiness and contentment are lasting; pleasure is temporary, fleeting.) If peace of mind and happiness are what you're after, then you must look within. If something isn't right inside, you won't ever be truly happy. For the first time in my life I think I have healed my inside and my entire life has taken on a new meaning. I'm not worried about the future, or dwelling on the past, I'm trying to live in the moment and breathe in life as it unfolds. I sing more, I joke around a lot (sorry about that guys! J), and the stars shine again. I can' t predict the future or change the past, all I can do is live in the present and embrace life, which is what I do. I see people around struggling to cope with their situation, wondering what's next, preoccupied with yesterday and tomorrow, and missing out on today. I can't live like that anymore. I refuse to. This place can't steal my tranquil state of mind, I won't allow it. Of course I get off track at times, I'm far from perfect and we all stumble but it's so much easier to get back on the horse these days. Furthermore, I find that I'm excited about climbing back up! No longer do I hate waking up. Each day is a new adventure and I welcome whatever transpires. I'm finished with grasping, clinging, resisting, recoiling, and running, I fully accept each moment and release it once it passes. Life is beautiful again, I can see clearly. And what is it that I see? An awesomely dynamic, ever-changing process with an abundance of potential for creativity, achievement, growth, excitement, adventure, and meaning. I just let life flow through me and observe the beauty of existence. If I can do it here, you can do it there. Just remember............ One Day at a Time, Simple Man Robert Pruett 999411, Polunsky Unit, 3872 FM 350 S., Livingston, TX, 77351, USA www.simpleman-robertpruett.com contact@simpleman-robertpruett.com Please take into consideration that inmates do not have access to the Internet. Any correspondence will be printed out and forwarded to Robert by mail. Please allow at least three weeks for Robert to respond and make sure to include a mail address where responses should be sent.
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Post by sclcookie on Apr 30, 2006 4:00:24 GMT -5
April 30, 2006 Hi again. Normally, we don't have case information, but being that this is Clint's last article as a writer for Uncensored and he will merely be writing as a guest writer from here on out, this is the last article allowed with such detailed case information. hugggz, Suzanne Uncensored By Clinton Young 999447 Loud and Clear! Greeting to everyone out there! It is everyone's favorite trouble maker. Clinton Young! I got a lot to say about a lot. So get ready, this will be a long article. Might even piss some people off. But it is the truth, as I know it to be. So nothin' better to be told if you ask me. Well some of you know that I recently attended a hearing on my State Writ of Habeas Corpus, or as Runaway Chuck called it, THE GREAT WRIT. Yes, it is supposed to be great, as it is the "live or die" writ. Well I go back to Midland County thinking me & my lawyer are going to clown the prosecutors. Boy, was I a fool! Short and sweet. It was discovered that my investigator Lisa Milstein was smoking the drug crack cocaine with a witness. That witness was my brother. See Mywesttexas.com early March, to read the articles. Well my whole writ was based around the statements that the investigator, Lisa Milstein filed. After talking to each witness, it was discovered that Lisa falsified every statement. Meaning, my whole write was trash & had no merit!! Meaning, I die! Now there was plenty that could have been raised, that wasn't. I have found out that she has lied in statements before. The worst thing about all of this is the fact that the lawyers knew this. They even stated that they knew she was having emotional & mental problems. Yet they let her work on one more case. Guess who's case that was? That's right, MINE!!!!!! They had my case for two years & done all the work in the last three weeks. My lawyer made no effort to confirm any of the statements or reports given. So basically it is as if I never filed a state writ. Though the courts say it still counts, as there is no constitutional protection over the state writ. So a lawyer can do whatever he wants to do & will not get in trouble for it. My lawyer was Gary Taylor. I remember one time he wrote me talking about he had been on vacation. While he was on vacation, one of his clients became another statistic in Texas! There is a lot more to it, but it will be shined on in the courts before it hits the net. I bet a few of the pro death folks out there are licking at the lips. What was the guys name over Crazy Pros, that wrote me? I forget, but I bet he is happy. As by law, I am bound to die, and wouldn't stand a chance. BUT, there is a but. You see, I am smarter than the average bear. I got a strong will to live. I don't trust many people as well. I damn sure do not trust the pawns of this satanic mafia of a judicial system, that makes up Texas. Soooooooooo, I wrote the judge and made several complaints. I filed a complaint with the bar association. I filed certified letters w/copies to Gary Taylor, the lawyer. I wrote the judge pro-se telling him what I wanted filed. I did this with every issue I could. It spanned a period of about 7 or 8 letters to the court. I begged the judge to get me a new lawyer. I told the courts what needed to be tested to show that I am innocent. So at the hearing, the judge allowed my pro-se issues to be argued. Which effectively put them in the record as preserved. It even let us put in a copy of a letter that I sent to Gary Taylor, on telling him what to raise in my writ. Now here is where it gets good. The judge wouldn't pay for a ballistic expert, so thanks to some wonderful support people throughout the world that have donated money to my defense fund, I was able to pay for the expert myself...And what do you know? The expert stated in his report, not that I didn't kill the guy, BUT THAT I COULD NOT HAVE KILLED HIM!!!!! That's right. It states that my co-defendents have to be lying as I could not have fired the shots. Ladies & gentlemen, it has been a long since I cried. But when I got that phone call from my lawyer last Monday on the third of April & he read me the report, after the phone call was over, the tears came. This report shows that the state's theory is incorrect & that it had to be my co-defendent that shot the guy. That is for the first murder in my case. The second one, he was the only witness to the case & he failed a lie detector test on that murder & just by looking at his statements it is easy to see that he was the shooter. He changed the most critical parts of his statement while on the stand. When asked why he done this, he replied, "because the DA's investigator told him to!" Now I am not walking out the door yet. Far from it. I still might die, as the courts are getting worse & worse, but I will get into that later. These reports open the door for me to get a few other items tested, which will only give more weight to the ballistic expert's finding. So if I would have not been such a hard headed guy & was passive & just did what people told me to do, I would be dead, dead, dead for sure. The courts will not pay for anymore tests, so I have to raise the money myself, to pay for them. That's the hard part, but hopefully it will get easier. Now I have been talking to two other guys here. One of them showed me his legal work. The dude is innocent! All the way around. So is another here. Well we are in the middle of talks of doing a tag team approach. Just gather up all we can & show the world, how COMMON it is for an innocent man to be on death row in Texas. But let's also focus on the new Patriot Act. George bush made it possible for the Attorney General to put states on a fast track appeal process. Meaning that the AG can approve Texas for a faster appeal in Federal courts to help slaughter people a lot faster. Now let's move on down from Washington D.C to Dallas/Fort worth area. Please see www.star-telegram.com for an April 12, 2006 on Steven Staley. A lot of you might remember when Richard Cartwright wrote about him. He was on death watch with him. He came within 5 hours of being killed by the state. Well he got a stay. Well a judge has just ruled that he can be forcibly given medication so that he can be competent to be slaughtered. WHAT THE f*ck? The dude is crazy!! The law says that the death penalty is not supposed to be for people like this.....They let off the mentally retarded. A guy with an IQ lower than 70! This dude doesn't even grasp where the hell he is, so they say, "well hold him down & shoot him up with some drugs that will make him Momentarily aware & then kill him before they wear off!!! Then I get told about another guys case, here. He is days from getting killed & a statement is found in the DA's office about the guys co-defendent admitting to being the killer. Yet the DA still let the guy lie on the stand and say that it was the guy here on the row that done it. When really he wasn't even there. Now the 5th circuit just ruled that the guy could be executed. NOT because he done it, but because he is procedurally barred!!! f*ck that he is innocent. He is going to be slaughtered because a f*cking time line was not met. He wasn't even there. Can prove that if given a new trial, he wouldn't even be indicted. He would walk out onto the streets. WAS NOT EVEN THERE!!! Yet he is going to die! When is this sh*t going to stop? When people get off their ass & do something about it. Sitting around talking & gossiping about b/s & writing isn't going to solve anything. Me sitting here complaining about these pigs slamming a gate or serving a cold tray , what is it going to do? People need to unite and raise hell. I am very thankful for the people I got on my team. Some that read this are aware of S.A.I.L But not fully. S.A.I.L is set up to be something that has never been done before. ACTION not voice. Do you think the blacks would have it as they do today if Martin Luther King just sat in his room complaining about what was wrong? Hell No. What would India be like if Gandhi wouldn't have took it to the streets. What if he just sat under a tree writing about how wrong it is. Okay, we all know how corrupt the system is in Texas. Now what are you all going to do about it??? Has everyone figured out that these on line complaints do not help anything. NO judge, NO prosecutor, NO governor listens to them nor do they even look at them. Pick up the phone!!! REFORM THROUGH RESISTANCE is the key. A silent voice never get heard. Just like here on the row. You know why we got it so bad? Because complacent people sit on their ass & do nothing. I give mad props to Kenneth Foster & company for their efforts. They decided to take action, just as I have & Steven Woods has & Paul & Richard did. But it is always a small amount of people. So it doesn't add up to nothing. A prime example, someone was able to get an interview with the powers that be, about us not getting proper access to ministers at visitation & so forth. You know what T.D.C.J said? They told the lady, "We understand & we see your point is valid, but there is nothing we can do because THEY aren't complaining. Now some will say that they do. But not enough does. Just like us being in this environment. People complain that it makes us go crazy & is cruel & unusual. You know what T.D.C.J say? They say, "we need a psychologist around every 90 days, they report no complaints." Now a few do, but only a small amount. I have personally seen guys refuse to talk to the psych doctor's when they come around. That gives them nothing to complain about. So that says that all are okay with being housed in these cages for long term. We are our worst enemies. Everyone needs to get off of their ass and do something! I can say that as I have done it. But I am now a level 1. I have done a lot of thinking. I did a whole lot of it in the county jail while my writ was being destroyed by the prosecution. I came to the conclusion that I am killing myself, trying to stand up for others who do nothing. So now I will channel my energy into saving myself & those that are like minded as I. Those that DO something about it! I myself, do not like being in a cage for 23 hours a day. I do not like waiting to die. I want to live. I will not set by and die for something I didn't do, not quietly that is. If someone chooses to lie down, then I will not stop them. But there are a few of us, who choose to stand and fight. Fight does not mean violence. It means resistance. If all we do is complain about the way a guard looked at us, what will that solve? We need to all focus on the system. The courts. I am through with all the frivolous bullsh*t. I will NO LONGER waste my time writing about life in here. As that takes away time that I could be focusing on my life out there! I applaud those that do what they do, but those that do nothing, are part of the problem. This will be the last time that I write an article for Uncensored. I am starting my own site. It will be called loud and clear. As that is how I want to be heard, loud and clear! It will be about the facts. I am at the point to where I do not care what these guards do to people, as long as they leave me and those I associate with alone. Now a lot of people complain about that kind of thinking. But they are the ones that do nothing. They complain cause they got to smell some pepper spray!! I have read where people have openly complained about the DRIVE movement here on the row. That was Kenneth Foster and them. Foster had a reversal and he still was going to the front line. That is sacrifice! And some coward that wants to sit on his ass & eat ice cream wants to help the pigs by talking sh*t about him and those with him, tactics. So yeah, I am through. Plus I am tired of feeding a morbid curiosity of what it is like to for us each day. That will in no way save my life or anyone's. It will not change nothing. I WANT TO LIVE!! I want to do so comfortably in my own house. I speak the truth. If it makes anyone mad, then that just shows that I am right. I want to see my comrades live. Steven Woods is in the Federal courts already. Case based on what? A whole lot of bullsh*t!!!! I can name at least 8 people here including myself, that I have reviewed their cases & have knowledge of, that are innocent! That is just the ones that I associate with & have similar issues in our cases. So now I am going to start the real fight. The fight to live. The fight to get more attention on THESE PEOPLE'S LIVES, before they are stolen. Richard Cartwright DEAD. Cameron Willingham DEAD. Both innocent. Ruben Cantu DEAD. (1993) I am not trying to be added to that list! A person can do as they please. I am a grown man, I can do as I wish to. I am just stating my opinion, based on my experience & knowledge. Don't get me wrong, I am not laying it down. I don't give a damn if I was a day from going back to court, if it comes time to rock & roll, I will do so. Level 3 still is the same as level one to me. Hell, I can't even get a radio. I have to get a blue slip approved to get one. Property says they approved it. Commissary says they don't have it. I AM MAD! I am mad because I was almost in a sealed casket. I am mad because of all the bullsh*t. BUT I am going to channel my anger in a productive manner. I just wanted to share one last rambling with all you Uncensored readers. The ballistic report will be posted on my S.A.I.L site and maybe on this site. This article is solely my opinions and in no way should influence any readers opinion of any other writer for Uncensored. I also want to thank SUZANNE & RICHARD for giving me this chance. It was fun. I just got to redirect my energy. If you all sat in a court room & watched your only chances & life just being ripped away, because of another's stupidity & there is nothing you can do, it affects you. I am here to tell you, it affects you in a very bad way. I can't even begin to describe the rage in me. I am at the point to where if even a guard asks me a question without me first talking to them, I get mad. The grim reaper was tapping on my shoulder but thanks to all the donations that was sent in to help me, he had to take a step back. He is still reaching for me, so I am not free yet. But I use his presence to motivate me. I use the pain to fuel the fire. My mother set through the hearing as did Janice and Paddy. Though they left before it went bad on us. But my mom was sitting through it and got to watch all my chances just fade away. It appeared that she aged 10 years in two days! Though my supporters and other like minded people stepped to the plate. They saved my life. Unity & organized effort done it. It isn't over yet, but we all got motivation to fight harder now. They may kill me, but they will hear me Loud and Clear! Stand Strong, stand tall, Fade it all. Unity is the key to success. Use the pain to fuel the fire. VENI, VIDI, VICI (For those that don't know what that means, it means " I came, I saw, I conquered.") With Unity strengthened by solidarity. I Remain, Clinton Young # 999447 Polunsky Unit 3872 F.M 350 South Livingston, TX 77351 P.S. I will do a guest appearance from time to time for Uncensored but will no longer be a base writer. I do wish to thank all for their attention & support. To all my supporters out there, THANK YOU!! I owe you all one!!! Hey I am back for a second. I just wanted to touch base on a few things. Mostly why I haven't written many articles lately & to ask a favor from people out there. I wanted to touch base on a few things. to those out there that write to a person on the row & are developing a special relationship to the point that you are considering to marry that person. Go into it with an open mind. I am currently going through a divorce. You have to be ready to deal with the emotional aspect of the relationship. Don't rely on hope alone. As this process can last years & that leads to a lot of stress. Mine came to an end for several reasons. But I just want to tell people, be sure to keep an open and understanding mind. I have had a lot of personal issues going on that really I didn't feel like writing. That is why I have been absent for so long. A relationship can drain a lot of emotional strength. Anyways, onto other things. If there is anyone out there looking for someone to write to, as well as help out with needs to make the days go by. I am currently next to a guy that has been here for 30 years and locked up for 32. He has lost the majority of the friends & family that he knew. He suffers from long term mental illness. His name is RAYMOND G. RILES #000541. Anyone willing to write him & help offer support & help to brighten his days. I would really appreciate it. Well I just wanted to throw that in there. I meant to intertwine it in my article, but forgot. Take care. Thanks to all that write to Raymond.
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Post by sclcookie on May 7, 2006 7:58:41 GMT -5
May 07, 2006 By Robert Pruett 999411 aka Simple Man Week 16 2006 April 17, 2006 According to the new recreation policy, each section has a designated off day when it doesn't recreate; all sections are off on Sundays. My section was off today (Monday) and I crashed out last night thinking that they'd be around bright and early this morning with the showers, which is how they've been doing it under this new policy. When I woke up and noticed my shower stuff by the door, I was confused and slightly alarmed. I knew that I didn't VR my shower, and I do not accept them VRing me of their own volition. Immediately I tapped on my desk to get my neighbor's attention and asked him if he'd been to shower, to which he replied that they hadn't ran any showers on this section yet. Good to know. I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT: I'm having a personal website constructed. The primary purpose of this site is to get my life story circulating on the internet. My hope is that my message will reach at risk teens and make them think about their behavior and the effects that it has not only on their lives, but on everyone else’s as well. When I first arrived on the row in 2002 I'd planned on writing an autobiography, and I have written the outline and pieces of the text, but I now think that it would be wise to post these stories on the internet first, then maybe work on getting it published in the future. My understanding is that kids these days spend most of their time on the internet, so they're more likely to read my story online than in the form of a book, right? And if one person reads my story and learns from my innumerable mistakes, then my life will not be entirely devoid of meaning. In addition to this, I will be posting my Uncensored journal in chronological order on my site. Since I'm posting my life story on my own site, I won't be inundating Uncensored with all of these stories in my journal. I might include excerpts occasionally, but I promise not to overwhelm you with them! :-) If you're interested in my biography, then you can visit my site. Be aware that it will take a considerable amount of time to fill in all of the blanks, just know that I'm diligently at work. April 18, 2006 Today is a sad one for me. It's my niece's 18th birthday and nobody in my family knows where her and her siblings are. In the early 1990s they were taken by the Children's Protective Services during a drug raid at my cousin's motel in Aransas Pass, Texas. My sister and their father had cocaine in their room and they went to Jail, while the kids went to foster care. We used to visit them in Goliad, and later in Beevile, at their foster parent's house, but my family lost touch with them after I was arrested in 1995. The last I heard they were adopted out in 1996 and their case was closed. What bugs me is that no one in my family, including their parents, seem concerned about their whereabouts. Don't get me wrong, I think they were better off being raised by more responsible people. Had they been forced to grow up in our dysfunctional family who knows what would've become of them. I just hope that they were able to take advantage of their improved living conditions and have normal childhoods. They certainly wouldn't have had that with my family. So yeah, today's Samantha's 18th birthday and she has been on my mind since I crawled out of bed. The last time I seen her she was about 6 years old, so it's difficult for me to imagine that she's 18 today!! I wonder how her and her siblings are? Will today be a memorable one for her? Is she even still with her siblings? Does she ever think about her real family? Does she remember me? I wish I could talk to her. I'd tell her about the night she was born when I had a blinding headache and fell asleep in the car at the hospital. I'd tell her about the moment of utter joy I experienced when I first held her and thought, "Wow, I’m your uncle Robert!" If anyone out there knows these kids (Samantha Pruett, Michael Mclain, and Angel Mclain. The last names most likely changed.) please tell them that their uncle Robert is thinking about them and will always love them. Happy Birthday Sam! April 19, 2006 Do you remember what it was like waking up on Christmas morning as a kid to presents under the Christmas tree with your name on them? Think back for a second and try to recapture that ecstatic moment when you hurriedly unwrapped your presents and found the one you were looking for. At that moment you just KNEW that there was a Santa and that he came through for you, right? Well, that's kinda how we all felt today when they let us make commissary for the first time in a month! :-) I was in the dayroom when they rolled the carts onto the pod and I could clearly see the joy on everyone's face as the commissary workers unloaded the carts in front of their cells! I told one guy to stop drooling, that it was only commissary! Haha. It does feel good to have some groceries in the locker. Yesterday they brought us some nasty looking stew with very little substance to it. I took one look at it and knew that it would be a long night. Everything is cool now though, it's all about that jack mack tonight! I think I mentioned before that they are supposed to pass out our hygiene (5 state bars of soap, a razor, and some cleaning bippy) on Sundays. Well, after the lockdown we were told that they'd start passing that stuff out on Tuesdays. We didn't get any of that last night. I was talking to my neighbor about the way they treat us sometimes and he said that they do it because they can. I tend to think that they do it because we let them. The way I look at it is this: we gotta pick our battles. Some things are really worth fighting for, other things not so much. I've got soap and bippy so I'm not going to lose my level behind hat. And if they don't give me a razor I won't shave. Makes no difference to me. But if they cross the line and destroy personal property or something to that effect, well, I have my own way of dealing with that. After my last fall out with these people I made it clear that I'd live in peace as long as they let me. To be as succinct as possible; they don’t f*ck with me, I won't f*ck with them. And I don't really sweat the small sh*t. They know what I mean, that's all that counts. Ugh! I don't mean to sound so aggressive and confrontational tonight. I'm rarely like that these days and I don't foresee that changing. There's no need to be. Although it is disconcerting to see 10 day old postmarks on letters sent from within the state! I'm being patient though because I know they are breaking in a new supervisor in the mailroom. Funny story: I keep my mattress flat up against the back wall most of the day so I don't lie down on it like a lazy MFer! :-) Sometimes I get silly in here and start singing and playing a little air guitar while listening to a song. When I'm doing this I close my eyes and am completely oblivious to the outside world. An hour or so ago I was standing on my bunk jamming out to Nirvana's “Smells like Teen Spirit" and I cranked up the air guitar and started singing away! I remember standing on one leg and grabbing my right calf with my left hand - as if I was holding the neck of a guitar - and I strummed my right hip to the song! Heck, I must've been doing that most of the song. When I opened my eyes the officers working the run were both looking in my cell and I smiled and said, "Enjoying the show?!" They both smiled and asked if I'd like to see the psych people! Haha. I do get carried away at times. Alright, I'm about to stuff my face with some fish, I'll talk to you all tomorrow. There's really only one way. April 20, 2006 Every weekday (non-holiday) around 6pm there's a noticeable change in the ambience of any given pod in the system, especially on death row. No matter how difficult the day was for the guys, seeing the second shift arrive induces a hope that supercedes almost anything that might've went wrong during the day. For second shift passes out the mail. Despite the fact that the anxiety and anticipation emanating from each cell around this time is so palpable that you could almost cut it with a knife, our behavior while waiting on mail call is nothing short of comical. A lot of times my neighbor and I will conveniently come to the door just past 6pm and begin a conversation about anything from politics to science. While we're delving into a discursive dialogue with our mouths, our eyes are on the picket officer as she/he sorts out our mail and prepares it to be passed out. And no matter what, neither one of us speaks about the mail; we wouldn't want to jinx ourselves! :-) Everyone has their own way of preoccupying themselves until the mail is actually passed out, but it's safe to say that most of us aren't completely focused on whatever that may be. I used to be really bad. I'd put the headphones on, crank up the tunes, turn my light off, and pace the cell until I knew they were on the way to pass out the mail. As soon as I'd hear them coming our way, I'd turn the light on and pretend to be cleaning my toilet, which is close to the door, so that I could peripherally see them pass my cell. I'd do this because in the past I have stood at my door like a dope fiend waiting on the mail and looked stupid as hell when they flew past my house! That always made me feel like a total loser, so I adopted the pretending-to-be-cleaning trick and it helped me not look so pathetic if the officer with the mail passed me by. Of course when I would get mail I'd play my part to the T and pretend to be nonchalant when the officer would knock on my door and say, "Pruett; number?" I know, I'm such a dork! But I don't worry about it so much these days. It'll drive you crazy if you do, especially considering how slow things have been of late. Anyhow, to further illustrate how big of a deal mail is around these parts, if one listens closely as the officer passing the mail out walks through his section he'll hear a variety of emotions. One guy might victoriously yell, "Already!!" as he's handed a much welcomed missive, another guy might let out a loud sigh as he's mercilessly passed by, and someone else might even verbally express his displeasure by saying something like, " Lazy ass mailroom! They need to fire all of them motherf*ckers and put someone else in there who wants to do some f*cking work! sh*t!!" when he, too, is passed by. I seriously doubt that anyone is ambivalent after mail call. They said on the radio that today is the day Layne Staley, the late front man for Alice in Chains, overdosed and died. They said the year, but I missed it. This is also the day that those kids killed students and teachers and themselves at Columbine in Colorado. Also, today is one of my old friend's birthday. I'm not sure what happened to her though? If you're reading this Toni-Marie, Happy Birthday. Lastly, today's Hitler's birthday. What a day, huh?! :-) Oh yeah, 4-20 has significance for an entirely different reason. Something to do with tolerance and freedom to inhale, whatever that means!?! :-) Happy 4-20 everybody!! April 21, 2006 My plans for maintaining an exercise regimen after the lockdown have, to this point, gone awry. I've worked out a few times since they lifted the lockdown, and I've been outside to run a couple of times, but I haven't been doing calisthenics every rec period like I'd planned. Something always interferes with my work out; somebody will ask me a question and an extensive conversation will ensue, an aspiring chess player will seek to improve his game by testing it against my own, or I'll get sucked into sports talk and before I know it my rec time is up! These are a few of my lame excuses! :-) Truth be told, I've become one lazy dude over the years in segregation. I need to snap out of it, too. As long as I spend 45-60 minutes of each rec working out, then I won't feel so guilty about eating like a pig. And, of course, regular exercise stimulates the creative neurons in the brain, causing their synapses to fire rapidly, so it's important that I get into gear. If you think these entries are boring now, imagine what they'd be like if I stopped exercising entirely! Yikes! :-) Our section went outside today and I enjoyed the warm sun and some stimulating conversation with my neighbor. As we conversed about depraved lawyers and judges, and the differences between life in GP and death row on Ellis unit, where DR used to be housed prior to coming to Polunsky, I observed nature at its finest: a tiny spider weaving a web on the bars separating the two outside rec cages. I'm always astounded by the complexity of nature on every level. How do spiders know how to do that? And who taught ants to build mounds with elaborately designed tunnels? The same questions can be asked of birds, beavers, and every other life form known. According to sociobiologist E.O Wilson, the behavior of insects is entirely instinctual, as is most of the species in the animal kingdom. They're genetically wired to do what they do. (I'm tempted to digress in a major way by exploring the plethora of evidence that supports a physiological basis for human behavior, but I don't want to stray too far from the spider, the point of this paragraph.) The spider that held my attention this afternoon seemed to sense my presence, pausing every few seconds as if to make sure I hadn't moved any closer, yet it cautiously continued doing its work. It dawned on me that I was witnessing a hunter prepare a trap for a kill. This recognition reminded me of a universal truth: all things die, and from death springs life. Caterpillars give way to butterflies, tadpoles to frogs, and even old ways of thinking to new ways as we mature. The life cycle is awesomely unremitting, with life giving way to death and death life. This reminds me of a marvelous Hindu legend: Shiva, the god personifying Brahman in a variety of forms, had a world-goddess called Parvati. A great demon had just overthrown the ruling gods of the world and came to confront Shiva with a non-negotiable demand; that he should hand over Parvati. Shiva replied by opening his mystic third eye in the middle of his forehead and a bolt of lightning hit the earth creating another demon, even larger than the first, to eat the other demon. The first demon threw himself upon Shiva's mercy. It's a well-known theological rule that when you throw yourself on a god's mercy that god cannot refuse to protect you. So Shiva protected the demon and left the other one without a meal to quell his hunger, and in anguish he asked Shiva, “Whom do I eat?" to which the god replied, “Well, let's see: why not eat yourself?” So the demon began eating himself, commencing with his feet, legs, arms, belly, and neck until all that remained was his face. And Shiva was enchanted. For here at last was a perfect image of the monstrous thing that is life, which lives on itself. And to that sunlike mask, which was now all that was left of the demon, Shiva said, exulting, “I shall call you 'Face of Glory,' Kirttimukha, and you shall shine above the doors to all my temples. No one who refuses to honor and worship you will come ever to knowledge of me.” (Skanda Purana, VolII, Vishnukanda Karttikamasa Mahatmya) The lesson of the story is to recognize the monstrous nature of life. In the words of Joseph Campbell, “the realization that this is just how it is and that it cannot and will not be changed. Those who think - and their name is legion - that they know how the universe could have been better than it is, how it would have been had they created it, without pain, without sorrow, without time, without life, are unfit for illumination....All societies are evil, sorrowful, inequitable; and so they will always be. So if you really want to help this world, what you will have to teach is how to live in it.” April 22, 2006 Last night they came around with a barber and did haircuts. I've been in TDCJ for almost 10 years now and in that time I can count on one hand the number of decent haircuts I have had. They rarely allow a barber to cut inmate's hair if he's any good. The ones who are experienced and know what they're doing get reassigned to the officer's barber shop. Anyhow, last night they marched a new guy in here to cut our hair and he was good! The job he did on my head has to be one of the best since I was arrested in 1995. I just hope they leave this guy back here for a few months. I know, wishful thinking. I missed rec today. I stayed up late last night listening to the radio and when I went to sleep I knew I wouldn't get up for rec first round. When I did wake up I read the newspaper and wrote some letters before they came around with the showers around noon. I spent the rest of the day writing letters and tinkering with the outline to my autobiography. I'm excited -about resuming my work on it but I admit that it'll be a real challenge. I think I'm up for it though. April 23, 2006 I think Sunday is now my favorite day of the week. After lunch they turn the dayroom and run lights off because there's no rec and it gets peacefully quiet. I usually get a lot of stuff done when it's like this. Today I wrote letters and worked on my outline (autobiography) some more. A couple of years ago I had created an outline, but I've been making substantial changes to it of late. I'm hoping to get started on rewriting chapter one this week. My plan is to post each chapter on my personal website as I finish it. If I work on it daily, which is the plan, then I think I'll be finished by September, possibly sooner. Anyhow, like most Sundays, today has been uneventful. Everyone seems to be off into their own worlds. I'm hoping that they'll play some old "Alice in Chains" on the Hard Show tonight in commemoration to their late front man, Layne Staley. The anniversary of his death was Thursday the 20th, as I mentioned previously. Growing up I was a huge fan of their band, and I even liked the solo stuff their guitarist. Jerry Cantrell, did after Layne died. Wendy Miller, the hostess of the Hard Show, will probably play 4 or 5 of their older songs, she's pretty good about stuff like that. We'll see what happens in a few hours. Unlike the vast majority of the guys here on the row, I don't listen to the Shout Out Show. There are a few reasons for this, number one being that it bothers me when people try to force their beliefs on others. I've asked people to call in for me in the past, and I've sat through large portions of that show, but that's just not something I want to do on a regular basis. People telling me that I need to convert to their religion or I'll burn in hell for all eternity just doesn't sit well with me! :-) I've read the bible many times and I certainly perceive some truth in it, but like every other religion it's a penultimate truth because, in my opinion, the ultimate is ineffable. The Christian symbols point in the same direction as the other religions, but I don't believe they're meant to be interpreted literally, as many people do. As does everyone who participates in that Shout Out Show. Actually, I don't mind people believing in whatever they want, it just becomes a problem when they unrelentingly try to recruit me. So that's the main reason why I don't listen to that show. That said, I realize that it provides people a wonderful opportunity to reach out to their friends and family here on Polunsky. For that reason I think the show serves a noble purpose. Most of the guys around here love it and even live for it.........While they're listening to it, I read, write, and jam out on the radio, sometimes a little air guitar! :-) One Day at a Time, Simple Man Robert Pruett 999411, Polunsky Unit, 3872 FM 350 S., Livingston, TX, 77351, USA www.simpleman-robertpruett.com contact@simpleman-robertpruett.com Please take into consideration that inmates do not have access to the Internet. Any correspondence will be printed out and forwarded to Robert by mail. Please allow at least three weeks for Robert to respond and make sure to include a mail address where responses should be sent.
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Post by Alyce on May 9, 2006 20:48:32 GMT -5
WOW...MR.PRUETT IS A POWERFUL WRITER....I EVEN CRIED A FEW TIMES!! HAT'S OFF TO YOU!!
BLESS ALL
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Post by sclcookie on May 13, 2006 0:43:47 GMT -5
May 13, 2006 By Robert Pruett 999411 aka Simple Man Week 17 2006 April 24, 2006 When I first heard the new "Red Hot Chili Pepper's" song, "Dani California", I wasn't sure if I liked it or not. Now I love it! Like a handful of other bands from their era, they continue to-put out great music, I'm really impressed by their longevity........The first time I heard their music was around 1992 when I was living in Cloverleaf, a run-down neighborhood on the east side of Houston. I was hanging out with my then best friend, Justin Lee, at his house when Shannan Becker walked up singing,"Take me to the place I love, take me all the way, I don't ever wanna feel, like I did that day!" We were sitting on his porch watching her tread his lawn in long strides, wearing tight cut-off shorts and a "Guns-n-Roses" T-shirt. "Who sings that?" Justin asked. "I don't know." I replied. "Red Hot Chili Peppers, dummies!" His younger sister Amy exclaimed in a disgusted voice as she burst from the house. "Don't you idiots listen to the radio?" Shannan climbed the steps onto the porch, sat next to me on the swing and said, "It's called 'Under The Bridge', it's a beautiful song.” Amy went back inside to get her radio and plugged it into the outside socket. She told us that they've been playing it a hundred times a day and that we'd hear it before nightfall. It was late in the day so we decided to hang out and see if we could catch it. I didn't mind, Shannan was smoking hot and I quite liked her sitting so close to me! :-) It's weird because she wasn't as good looking a year or so before, but she blossomed into one of the most beautiful girls in the neighborhood after puberty. The once pigtailed, four-eyed girl that we used poke fun at had become the source of our desires and she knew it. A couple of months later she became my girlfriend, but I blew it (long story) a week into the relationship. A few years later I ran into her at her aunt's house (my family had been close to hers for years, that's how I met her) and she was stunningly gorgeous. She could tell I was captivated by her appearance and she teased, "Bet you wish you hadn't screwed things up between us, huh?!" All I could do was smile and nod in agreement. Anyhow, I digress. We finally caught that Chili Pepper's song and I instantly fell in love with it. They rock! I began reading a novel today, it's called "Brimstone," by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. Since I am going to be writing my autobiography over the next few months, I guess I'll only read leisurely (fiction) when I'm not writing. Non-fiction requires too much concentration to read while tackling such a project as my life story. This novel looks like it'll be pretty good, it has received rave reviews. It looks like I'll be finished polishing up my outline by tomorrow. I've pretty much changed the entire format to accommodate online readers, but without taking away from the essence of my story. If everything goes according to plan I'll begin writing the actual text Wednesday, possibly tomorrow night. I'm excited about this endeavor. Everything is operating as usual around here. We got our hygiene last night and they told us that we'd continue getting it on Sundays, The guy who told us that Tuesdays would be the regular day for receiving it obviously doesn't have a clue. Laters. April 25, 2006 Today was a productive one. I woke up around 8am and read about 30 pages of Brimstone, then I resumed working on my outline. By 3:30pm I was completely finished with it and it's safe to say that I am 100% satisfied with it. I'd planned on writing on the Preface tonight, but I went to rec (outside) at 4:10pm and stayed out there until close to 7pm. After I had showered and washed clothes it was past 8pm, so I decided to wait until tomorrow to start on it. We go out first in the morning so I should be back in the house by 9am and I'll have the entire day to work. They moved one of the Texas 7 over here tonight. They move those guys once a week on average and have been doing it like that since they arrived on the row. I wouldn't want to move every week; having to clean these cells thoroughly every week, not to mention packing and unpacking your property each time you move, would be a bitch. I clean a cell thoroughly (scrub the walls, bunk, floor, locker, desk, and stainless steel) when I first move in and I might do that once every-couple of months afterwards. There’s no real need to clean the locker and walls weekly unless you get them dirty somehow. I do clean the steel, floor, and bunk 3 times a week, as I've mentioned previously. I digress though. They moved Randy of the infamous Texas 7 over here tonight. I'm glad they moved him over here, he and I have developed a nice rapport since he arrived on the row. He's a cool dude, just got caught up in the drama of life, as did most of us. It's just too bad he didn't get moved over here a couple of weeks ago, I'm way too busy right now for any extensive conversations! I'm totally dedicated to my writing, at least 5-8 hours per day, until I am finished with my story. We'll find some time to kick it up though. We'll probably get outside Friday or Saturday. Welp, I'm about to get ready to crash out, I'll holler at ya'll tomorrow. April 26, 2006 Sleep eluded me last night. I laid down just past 11:30pm, tossed and turned for a couple of hours thinking about my past (in preparation for my autobiography), and slept lightly until past 3am. I tried to force myself back to sleep; but failed miserably, Thoughts of my childhood, misadventures, life in prison, and everything in between flooded my mind and I couldn't quiet them for the life of me, so I got out of bed and tried to work on my story. That didn't work out very well, so I picked up Brimstone and read until shift change. They told me I was heading out to rec first round, as I expected, and I got ready for that. I was out in the dayroom for about an hour when all of a sudden a wave of drowsiness washed over me. I'd climbed the dayroom bars in order to talk to a friend who lives on two row, and I was telling a story about an incident that occurred while I was level 3 last year, when the lethargic feeling swept over me and I almost fell off the bars. "Damn, dude, are you alright?!" My friend worried. "I didn't get much sleep last night," I explained. "After breakfast, which I didn't even eat, I couldn't get back to sleep." "Well tell 'em to take you back to the cell, I don't want you killing yourself in my dayroom I got enough sh*t in my brain I can't forget as it is!" He joked. I did a few pull-ups and push-ups to get my blood circulating in hopes of catching a second wind. It wasn't what I aimed for, but I felt slightly reinvigorated and grinded out the rest of my rec walking around the dayroom. They brought the chow cart onto the pod before I left rec and I saw that it was some slop, so I went straight to sleep as soon as I returned to my house. I dreamt that I was high atop a tree with climbing spurs on my feet, safety belt around my waist, several ropes tied to the tree and me, and my brother was below me shouting up instructions to bring the tree down piece by piece. I was shaking a bit, unsure how to proceed, but my brother reassured me, "Stay focused little brother, you're doing just fine. You got your monkey-fist tied propery?" "Yeah, I got it right." I answered. "Okay, it's a piece of cake from here, just tie the slip knot I taught you around the branch over these good folk's home and I'll send the saw up to you to make the cut. "Alright, I think I got it, let's rock-n-roll." I made the correct knots and cuts after I pulled the saw up and I began maneuvering around to another spot to fall another limb when I accidentally cut my safety rope with the saw that I should've clipped to my belt. I fell from the tree and woke up just before I landed on the ground below. What could the dream mean? I've been focused on the past in order to write my story so the whole scene is reflective of that (we used to run a tree service), but I think there's a deeper meaning. I wasn't the climber in our tree service, my brother was. He was teaching me, and I have climbed several easy trees, but nothing like the one from the dream. So I was out of my element in the dream. Am I out of my element trying to write about my life? Does the monstrous tree represent the huge endeavor I've set out to accomplish? And was my fall a harbinger to what's ahead of me? Am I about to fall flat on my face and make a mockery out of myself and my family? Well, I'm not sure about that, but I am afraid a little. I have to remain focused. This isn't about me or my family really. This is about possibly reaching out and helping someone who might be headed down the wrong path. I think I'm more afraid of botching this and sending out a wrong message to my targeted audience than I am misrepresenting myself or my family. I mustn't lose sight of what's most important. April 27, 2006 It's a beautiful day outside and in. I went out first round again so I could get outside with a friend and it was nice and cool when we got out there., just like I like it. I'm the kind of guy who'd rather it be cold than hot. You can always add a layer of clothing in here if it gets too chilly, but when it gets really hot in these cells there isn't much you can do to avoid the heat. If I were free and had access to air-conditioners, swimming pools, lakes, rivers, and oceans I'd change my tune. The heat and humidity are inescapable from these cells though. Anyhow, the sky is blue and gray, the sun is out, the birds are at play, and the atmosphere of the pod is nonchalant; this is my kind of day. This morning we were informed that our outgoing mail will be picked up by the second shift officers from now on. Ever since I've been here the mailroom ladies have picked it up between 6:00 - 7:30am. This new change has some of us a little alarmed because the COs now have more access to our outlet to the world and might be tempted to abuse their power. I've lived on units where the officers have picked up our mail the way they are about to here and have experienced problems on a couple of occasions, but not as many as some of these guys think could occur here. You never know though. I have decided to log the names of the officers working the pod on nights that I send out mail. If something happens to one of my letters, I will know who had their hands on it. Let's just hope nothing ever happens to any of my letters, I have absolutely no tolerance for such things. I don't expect to encounter any difficulty. April 28, 2006 I'm tempted to shift my schedule over to the night shift. There are a lot of distraction during the day: guys in the dayroom release steam by hollering when they talk, the officers walking the runs think slamming the gates and doors gives them special powers, your associates ask you silly questions because they haven't anything better to do, and it all works to draw your attention away from whatever it is you may be doing. From midnight until 6am, shift change, it's usually very quiet, you can get a lot of work done during those hours. The only problem with changing over to the night shift is, well, just what I mentioned above. It's really noisy during the day and it's tough to get any good sleep. Even if you wear earplugs and turn your fan on to drown out the noise you still have to get up to eat lunch and dinner, go to rec (if you so desire), and shower. These are every day things. Some days you might be awakened by commissary, being notified that you have a visit, a medical appointment, or a random cell search. I've been on the night shift many times and it's always hard to get good sleep every day. So I have a dilemma. Do I switch over to nights and sacrifice my sleep, which is essential to me not being a grouch ;-) , or do I remain on the day shift and just plod along through all the distractions? Both options leave something to be desired, but I guess the latter is the more practical of the two, so I'll probably just grind it out this way. I missed rec today, just didn't feel like getting out of bed first round. The devil tricked me into drinking some coffee yesterday (I totally fell off the wagon!) and I stayed up past 2am as a result, so there was no way I was going to rec. No, I don't believe in the devil either! That's mythology, nothing more. There's no such a thing as heaven or hell (unless you want to call the earth hell?) in my opinion, and there's no devil. Although it is rather inviting to have someone to blame all of our impulses and negative inclinations on! Yeah, that's right, the devil made me do it, I swear! :-) Oh you religious zealots/fanatics who interpret your myths literally, you best thank your lucky stars that I'm not in a polemical mood tonight! Actually, I haven't been in such a mood in quite some time, I'm learning to do away with childish games. Believe what you want people, don't mind me, I'm just here for the show! April 29, 2006 I'm back on track. This morning I arose just before 8am and I have been up and active all day, so my schedule is back to the way I want it. After I surfaced from the realm of archetypes, metaphors, and symbols, I read some more of Brimstone (it's getting GOOD!), then I wrote a couple of letters. A little past noon the officer working the pod asked me if I'd like to go outside and I agreed. They told me I wasn't going out until after 2pm, so in the interim I finish a letter that I’d started and read some more of Brimstone. They put me outside with a friend of mine and we did some pull-ups together, played a few games of basketball, then conversed about psychology, modem physics, metaphysics, and even philosophy. He's a huge fan of Friedrich Nietzsche's philosophy. I've read some of his work so I was able to hang with him, especially when he began talking about, "The Genealogy of Morals", which was written in 1887. An illuminating read indeed. Anyhow, I always enjoy speaking with this guy, he's exceedingly bright with a sense of humor, what more can you ask for when it comes to conversation? I'm not sure if I wrote this down in my journal, but I won't be writing personal letters during the weekdays until I finish my autobiography. I'll reserve personal writing for weekends only. During the week I want to focus entirely on my autobiography, but I'll continue writing journal entries. After rec I made me something to eat. The food on the last chow tray (tuna surprise; don't even ask about the surprise! ;-) ) wasn't enough to satisfy my hunger, I needed to hook up a real meal: chili without beans, chopped up beef summer sausage, cajun chicken soup, corn chips, chopped up pickles and peppers, and a squirt of squeeze cheese! Now I'm satisfied. They showered me on second shift and afterwards I started this entry. It's almost 8pm and I think I'll get ready for some comedy. A couple of episodes of, "That 70's Show” are about to come on; it's time to laugh it up with Foreman and all his pals! ;-) April 30, 2006 Four years ago today a jury of my “peers ”answered three questions in such a way that my district judge was required to sentence me to die. They make it sound like the jury doesn't actually sentence you to die, but they do because if they answer the special issue questions in a certain order, then the judge must impose the sentence of death, no exceptions. In the punishment phase of a capital murder trial in Texas the jury is presented with the following questions: #1) Did the defendant knowingly and intentionally commit murder? #2) Is the defendant a continuing threat to society?(future dangerousness issue) and #3) Is there any mitigating evidence that would warrant a life sentence rather than a death sentence? If the jury answers in a "Yes, Yes, No" sequence, then the judge sentences you to die. Any other combination of answers means you get a capital life sentence, It took my jury almost two days to find me guilty of capital murder.(That's actually quite long here in the lone star state.) When they deliberated over my punishment, it took them about two and a half hours. I recall sitting in the courtroom at a polished, woodgrain table with my lawyers and their assistant, while the jury decided my fate in the next room. My lawyer had his laptop computer with him and he was showing me what the internet was all about because I was locked up when it came out, or when it became popular. What an amazing invention. He let me play a couple of games that he had on his laptop, which was totally cool of him. I got bored with that so I made the people in the audience feel awkward by staring at them! :-) Most of them were TDCJ employees and media so it was kinda funny to me. They were all there to hear the judge sentence me to die anyhow, I figured they should get a good look at my face. At 3:10pm the bailiff informed the judge that the jury had reached a verdict, so the judge told him to bring them into the courtroom. The stands immediately filled with spectators and the jury was ushered back to their seats. Everyone in the courtroom was told to rise as the judge read the verdict. I was tempted to just stay seated because I knew the verdict and I wanted to show the judge (who'd been blatantly ruling against me, ignoring the law, throughout the entire trial) that I had absolutely no respect for him, but I stood up next to my lawyers and stoically listened the judge. "In response to special issue number one, the jury answered “yes”, to question two ”yes”, and to question three, “no”. Thank you for your service members of the jury, you may be excused if you like." The judge then looked directly at me and formally sentenced me to death by lethal injection. He suspended that sentence until the appeal process runs out. My lawyer patted me on the shoulder and told me it would be okay, that we'd appeal it and fight them, but I just sat back down and waited for the officers to get organized so they could escort me back to my cell. I did tell him that I appreciated all of his hard work on my case and thanked him for some other things that he did for me. Despite the fact that I was convicted and sentenced to die, that dude represented me better than most attorneys could or would. He fought for me, but people really aren't trying to hear it unless you're famous or filthy rich. If the state focuses on someone and thinks they have enough evidence to take it to trial, the jury usually reasons, "Well, all these nice looking representatives from the state can't be wrong, he must've did it." That's how so many people get found guilty. Not based on evidence, but based on a fundament - a fallacy in reasoning. You wonder why so many people were convicted, then later DNA evidence proved their innocence? I just told you why. DNA evidence supported my claim of innocence, yet they still found a way to convict me. They didn't evaluate the evidence, or lack thereof, in my case. I'm not at all worried about where I'm at or where I'm headed any longer. I realize that the chances of me seeing age 30 are slim to none. I enter the federal courts in October and the average time a person remains on death row after that is two years. That's if the courts deny him relief. I don't want to spend the rest of my life worried about that, I'd rather relax and try to experience a higher state of consciousness, not to mention live life to the fullest, in the time I have left. Besides, death is inevitable anyways, no sense in fighting it. I'd like to live and gather more experiences on this plane of reality, but I won't miss out on this moment concerning myself with something I have absolutely no control over. Life's too short for that. To take this discussion to another level, in my opinion death is just a stepping stone. Ontologically speaking, death is at the precipice of transcendence, the assimilation into the WHOLE. Occidentals say at death they are reunited with God, Easterns say they're reunited with the ONE. It's the same thing really, everyone just has a different label for it. The bottom line is that death isn't final like most people fear (despite having religious beliefs I might add), it's just a part of the cosmic cycle. Nothing ever really dies, it just transforms. So for me death isn't a bad thing, just another step towards my becoming. Got that? I hope so! :-) I'm just trying to express to the world that I see death as a transitory thing, not the end, and consequently I'm not afraid of it. When it's my time to go, I will catch up with you all on the next go round! In the interim I'm going to learn my lessons and enjoy life as best as I can............. One Day at a Time, Simple Man Robert Pruett 999411, Polunsky Unit, 3872 FM 350 S., Livingston, TX, 77351, USA www.simpleman-robertpruett.com contact@simpleman-robertpruett.com Please take into consideration that inmates do not have access to the Internet. Any correspondence will be printed out and forwarded to Robert by mail. Please allow at least three weeks for Robert to respond and make sure to include a mail address where responses should be sent.
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Post by sclcookie on May 19, 2006 1:43:19 GMT -5
May 19, 2006 By Robert Pruett 999411 aka Simple Man Week 18 2006 May 1, 2006 It'll be interesting to see how big the mail bag is tonight. It's usually small on Mondays because they have to sort through Saturday's mail, too (they stopped working on Saturdays about two years ago), but they don't have to pick up our mail anymore, so maybe that'll free them up to get more of our mail to us on Mondays? We'll know shortly, second shift is changing out with first as I write this. The mail bag generally arrives around 6:30pm and the picket officer sorts it out according to cell location, then the floor officers (rovers) pass it out. Today was a surprisingly productive one. Despite the fact that people were bugging me all day, I got a lot of work done on my autobiography. I'd put my earplugs in and begin writing, but every 15-20 minutes someone would yell my name for one reason or another. About 3pm they put a friend in the dayroom and he climbed the bars in front of my cell to talk to me, so I reluctantly found a stopping point and entertained him. It's cool though, he always provides stimulating conversations, I like talking to the dude. I have a remedy for all these distractions though! Beginning tomorrow I'm going to put a curtain on my door, put my earplugs in, turn my fan on, and ignore everyone! :-) When someone has a curtain on their door it's against prison etiquette to disturb them. Whoever's in the dayroom can see that you have something covering your door and he won't bother you (most of the time; some guys have no clue about prison etiquette), and if someone in a cell calls you the dayroom will let him know you're busy. Additionally, I told everyone that I'm super busy during the weekdays and if they want to communicate with me they should do so while I'm at rec or before 10am. Otherwise I won't engage with them. I don't mean to be an a**hole, I just have to get this done. Too much time has passed as it is. The mail bag was just as small as it always is on Mondays. Policy states that they are required to get us our mail within 24 hours of receiving it and they are supposed to send our mail out within 24 hours as well, excluding weekends and holidays. The exception to the rule is that if you are under investigation (for whatever reason) they get an additional 24 hours to scrutinize your mail. When the current mailroom supervisor's predecessor, Ms. Long, was in charge, they didn't abide by this policy most of the time. But let me assure you that the new supervisor makes one wish Ms. Long never would've left! This new woman is so out of compliance it's unbelievable. Just last Friday (the 28th), I received a letter from Dallas, Texas postmarked on the 20th. Eight days to get a letter from within the state? That's insane. Can someone explain what they do down there? I heard a rumor that the new supervisor hates inmates; whether or not there's any substance to that rumor remains to be seen, but she sure hasn't dispelled it by her actions thus far. May 2, 2006 We're making store tomorrow, everyone's stoked about that. Second shift announces if we're making store the next day when they arrive and when they tell us we are, it invariably creates a buzz throughout the pod. Just as people who are free sometimes allow material things to control them, a lot of guys in here live for that commissary. I'm not amongst them. Unless I'm out of the essential items (hygiene, writing supplies, and soups) I'm kind of indifferent about it. As long as I have the basic stuff and what I need to subsist, I'm cool. That being said, I'm running out of everything again, so I'm glad we're making store tomorrow! ;-) After tossing and turning all night, I went to rec first round this morning. As I mentioned, I want to remain on a daytime schedule, it just doesn't look like my body wants to comply! After rec I read a little until they brought the chow, then I ate my tray (the food on the tray, not the actual tray itself, I'm not THAT hungry! ;-) ) and crashed out. I slept past 1pm. It's 9:55pm now and I'm not in the least bit tired, I might stay up until breakfast writing. My writing, incidentally, is progressing rather nicely, I'm ahead of schedule. On that note I will wrap this one up. "Mandatory Metallica" is on (94.5 The Buzz plays three Metallica songs every weeknight at 10pm) and I'm going to listen to the rest of it then get back to work. Laters. May 3, 2006 As it turns out, I crashed out after midnight last night and arose just past 8am, so I'm not back on the night shift, thankfully. I really don't want to be staying up all night and struggling to sleep during the day. Anyhow, I woke up and read some more of Brimstone (it's turning out to be an excellent book!), then I resumed work on my writing until rec time, which was a little after 1pm. I exercised for over an hour out there, sweating like a prostitute in a church house, then I talked to Randy (Texas 7) for the remainder of my rec. He's losing his mind! :-) No, I'm kidding, he's hanging in there. After rec I continued writing until they showered me on second shift, then I fixed me up some tuna and began this entry. Exciting day, huh? I actually had a good time. Earlier I was talking to Randy about getting a band going. Yeah, you read that right, a band! :-) It's impossible to do anything now, but if ever I get put on a section with at least three musically inclined individuals, then I think I can get something going. One of us can sing, another can beat on the bunk to make the sound of a drum beat, and someone else can make the guitar sound with his mouth. We'd have to practice and get coordinated, but after a while I'll bet we could produce some good music! When I was in seg on Connally unit I was around a group of dudes who were dedicated with regards to creating music and we had a nice thing going over there. It would be awesome if I could get around some people willing to work with me and get a band started over here. We could perform rock and country and entertain half the pod! :-) One of these days I'll get something like that going. In the meantime, I'll be a one man show! :-) May 4, 2006 Rumor has it that a guy named Kevin was speared in his skull by another inmate yesterday and that he had to be rushed to the hospital. They say the spear penetrated his skull at such an angle that the doctors were reluctant to remove it. Again, this is just a rumor, but my source is a guy that I trust, someone with no reason to lie, so I feel safe repeating it here. I don't know the dude who was speared. Let me be explicit: I didn't repeat the above mentioned rumor to spread gossip. That's not how I operate. But I do think the public should be informed when something like that happens to an inmate. About a year and a half ago I was speared and the incident didn't make the news until three weeks later when an officer was speared while escorting me from rec. Message received: inmates aren't important, guards are. So yeah, if I hear about an inmate getting stabbed or being involved in a Use of Force, I will record that information in my journal. And I won't simply repeat any rumor that I hear either, the source must be reliable. The dude who told me that Kevin was speared not only heard about it at visitation, he's someone who takes all rumors with a grain of salt, as I do. I felt comfortable relaying what he told me. I just want to be clear that I'm not a rumormonger, but I will relay such incidents when I learn of them. Let me shift gears. After a month of posting journal entries online are many of you still trying to figure out who the hell I am? Am I not very self-revealing? Do I do a horrible job of expressing emotions? Am I apathetic? First of all, I do strive to live equanimously, but this doesn't mean I don't feel and experience emotions in their extremes, I most certainly do. Unlike most people though, I don't want to chase those feelings; I experience them, enjoy the moment, then release them. I think of myself as a very passionate person and I think I exhibit as much in my daily life. It is possible that I haven't adequately conveyed such things in my journal yet, but it'll all pour out before long. I don't want to pull any punches. A journal is about expressing yourself and that includes what you think, how you feel, your thoughts/perceptions, and everything else about yourself. That's what I hope to accomplish with this. I want to leave a piece of myself with all of you. And I am the type of person who tackles things cerebrally most of the time, so you'll just have to deal with that! :-) But I can be crazy, wild, and evocative and I'm quite sure that you'll see all of that before it's all said and done. But who am I? I'm a guy who strives to maintain some semblance of a balance in a world full of opposition and contradiction. Even within my own body there's conflict, contradiction, and opposing forces. I can totally relate to Brent Smith when he sings, "The more the light shines through me, I pretend to close my eyes. The more the dark consumes me, I pretend I'm burning, burning bright" and "There's nothing ever wrong, but nothing's ever right, such a cruel contradiction!" I get it, Brent. I totally empathize. I think of life as I see creases in the fabric of the space-time continuum; I'm awed by my perceptions, yet I recognize how little I know, how ignorant I am, that I epitomize tunnel vision; I think there's a rhyme to reason, a meaning to it all, but it's ineffable, nothing like any logic we've ever comprehended. But that's okay, it's really irrelevant; it's all about experience, maturation, and growing out of adversity. For me it is anyhow. We all have to figure it out for ourselves, I think.... I'm prone to bursts of laughter, I'm not so macho that I don’t cry, I do; I love a good story and I think everyone I encounter has something to teach me (even though there are times when I find myself engaged with someone and I think, ”what the f*ck is this dude talking about?! What's he supposed to teach me?” Ah, a lesson in humility)…. I do miss the intimacy of physical human contact, yet it's counterproductive, not exactly conducive to my mental well-being, to dwell on what's not possible. This is my world, this prison cell, and I involve myself with what's available to me. It doesn't mean I don't think about it, reminisce about the past, I'm just not engrossed in it. For me it's important that I be aware of the moment and don't miss out on what's happening before my eyes........ What else is there to know about me? I'm the most peaceful person you'll ever meet, but I can be aggressive and very violent if provoked. I treat people the way I want to be treated. Despite the fact that I've been betrayed by many people that I considered true friends, I am still very loyal and I trust easy (I guess I'm just stupid like that). I try to be honest, although I admit that the power of self-deception is very powerful, so this might not always work out. Again, I try to be honest, I don't consciously deceive people. That's a brief synopsis of the person I perceive myself to be today. Of course, I am still growing and my ideas, attitudes, and dispositions will change, I get that. This is a part of the person I am right now though. And there's so much more. Hopefully I'll be able to express who I am and all of the changes that I undergo with time as I write these entries. We're all complex beings and I tend to think that it's almost impossible to truly know another, but it's so much fun trying right?! ;-) May 5, 2006 Fletch, the nighttime DJ on Rock 103.7 out of Houston, hasn't been on the air all week. He's the one who has been playing skits from the comedians that perform at the Improv, but, when he isn't working, the fill-in DJs don't do the "8:20 Funnies." I thought that he was on vacation or something, but someone over here told me that he got in trouble for playing the new "Tool" song before he was supposed to! :-( He hasn't been working at the station for very long (maybe 4 months). I remember when he first came on he said that he had been fired from a few stations before, I guess he got himself fired again! I thought he was a cool DJ, and I loved his "8:20 Funnies”, it's gonna really suck now. They have two chicks (Lisa Kendall and Pam Kelly) alternating each night in Fletch's old spot and they just don't do it for me. They both sound hot, but their personalities are kinda......bland. I know, that's harsh, but if you're gonna work on the radio shouldn't you at least SOUND excited about it?! BRING FLETCH BACK HOUSTON!!!!!!!!!!! Happy Cinco de Mayo!! Today is one of my favorite days of the year. I admit that I have little knowledge about this Mexican holiday (except that the Mexicans defeated the French on this day), and I'm not actually celebrating the holiday, but TDCJ feeds us some delicious Mexican food for lunch every May 5th and I do love me some Mexican food! ;-) They fed us nachos with meat sauce and cheese, Spanish rice, burritos, and chocolate brownies. They did a great job on it, too. I missed rec again today. It was one row's turn to go first today, but 5 of the dudes down there VRed and they tried to pull me out first round. Nope, I wasn't going for it. I slept past 8:30am and read a little before breaking out my writing supplies. I wrote from about 10am until 5:30pm, with only one break for a shower just after 1pm, then I cleaned up and made some chili no/beans. They fed us good for lunch, but the last chow was slop (beef stew minus the beef), so I made my own dinner. The mailroom sent a considerably larger mail bag today than what they've been sending all week. It looks like they want to send letters one day a week, magazines on another day, and legal mail on another day. That's the impression I get. All week long the stack of letters has been very small, but today it was extra large. I don't know what their problem is, but whatever it is I hope they get it together. Alright, I'm outta here for tonight. I'm going to get cracking on some personal letters tonight so that I can finish up by Sunday. I'd like to resume writing on my autobiography Sunday because I think I can complete The Preface and Chapter one by Sunday night!! It's about time, huh?! May 6, 2006 My day began at 5:45am. Right before I crashed out (after lain) last night I told myself that I wasn't going to rec this morning because I wouldn't get much sleep. But I woke up at 5:45am and felt disgusted with myself for being so lazy, so I got out of bed and prepared for rec. They put me out there a little after 6:30am and I walked around the dayroom several times in order to get my blood circulating. The guy who lives directly below me was awake so I talked with him for probably 10 minutes about the NBA play-offs (I admit that I've been partially following them, although I do so reluctantly because pro sports turn my stomach with all the cheating the refs do for the teams that the leagues want to win in order to generate more revenue.), and then we played a couple of games of chess. I lost both games!! He's a good player, but I wasn't thinking this morning with some of the bonehead moves I made. Oh well, if I win them all people won't play anymore! Haha. I'm kidding. Anyhow, after getting cremated on the chess board, I talked with the guy in A-section for the remainder of my rec. A-section is filled with guys in ad. seg. and this particular individual told me he discharges his sentence in August! I asked him what he planned on doing once released and he said, "I think I'll travel the country for awhile until I find a place I like, then settle down there." I told him that I liked his plan. After rec I went back to sleep (Yeah, I'm lazy!! :-) ) for a couple of hours. Just before noon they pulled me out for a shower, afterwards I began writing some personal letters. One of those letters was to my brother who's on the Telford unit. I received a letter from him last night and it took me back to when we were free. When I was in the 5th grade he used to drive me to school in the morning when we were living on the north side of Houston. We had a silly song that we'd sing on the way that always made us laugh. "I don't want to go to work today," He'd kick it off. "I just want to stay at home and play, if I had it my way, I wouldn't go to work today!" And then my part. "I don't want to go to school today, I just want to stay at home and play, if I had it my way, I wouldn't go to school today!" Sure, we were corny, but we had fun together. Most of the time. Like most big brothers, he felt that he had to toughen me up, and that meant kicking I disagree all the time. Everyone always told him that he'd better watch out because I'd get older and beat the crap out of him, but he did not listen. Once, I almost got the best of him. I managed to pin him up against our couch, and I really thought I had him, but he regained his composure and overpowered me. Another time, while we were in the county jail waiting for the jury's verdict in a holdover cell, I manhandled him real good! He did have a broken leg though, so I can't really take credit for a victory that time! :-) He's like 100 million and 0 against me. But we both know that if I could get my hands on him today, he wouldn't stand a chance! Hehe.......Those were the good old days. May 7, 2006 If I had to pick one song that best expresses my state of mind seven years ago, it would be Metallica's "Fade To Black". They just played it and it reminded me of probably the lowest point in my life. I was 20 years old, the CCA had just denied my last appeal, I hadn't heard from anyone in my family in months, and I quit taking the antidepressants that the psych dept. had prescribed to me. I felt alone in a world where I didn't belong, I felt self-destructive, I felt angry at the world, and I longed for it all to end. It took some time, but I eventually pulled myself together. As I reflect back though, I remember thinking that life was over for me. I was in a seemingly perpetual state of despair and I hated everything, especially myself. While I realize that this part of my life played an instrumental role in my maturation, I'm still a bit ashamed of myself for succumbing to such extreme melancholy. Thankfully those days are over. Lesson learned though: "oh take your time, don't live too fast, troubles will come, and they will pass". It’s like that song applies to EVERYTHING!! ;-) No way am I going to finish chapter one today!! I did finish my personal letters, and I worked on my story some, but I need to rewrite chapter 1 AGAIN and edit it at least once more. Don't get me wrong, I love to write, I just think editing is tedious. It's an essential part of the writing process though. If I take care of business tomorrow, I might get it finished by nightfall. Like most Sundays, it's nice and quiet on the pod today. They're doing a rock block weekend on 103.7 - which means they're playing mutiple songs by each band - and they've been playing some decent stuff. I'm hoping they'll play a block of Shinedown before I finish this because afterwards I'm getting back to work on my story and I don't listen to music when I write on that. It's too distracting. There really isn't a whole lot to report today, so I'll close this up. I think I'll read a little of Brimstone before I resume writing on my story. Talk to y'all tomorrow. One Day at a Time, Simple Man Robert Pruett 999411, Polunsky Unit, 3872 FM 350 S., Livingston, TX, 77351, USA www.simpleman-robertpruett.com contact@simpleman-robertpruett.com Please take into consideration that inmates do not have access to the Internet. Any correspondence will be printed out and forwarded to Robert by mail. Please allow at least three weeks for Robert to respond and make sure to include a mail address where responses should be sent. A Moment of Silence for Richard Michael Cartwright, Executed on May 19, 2005 Richard Michael Cartwright was executed on May 19, 2005, and was pronounced dead at 6:16 pm Central Standard Time in Huntsville, Texas, USA, as I, Suzanne, his mother, Irene, his sister, Diane, his cousin Layne and his best friend Missy watched, while others were demonstrating outside the Walls Unit, and many people across the US and around the world were hoping for some good news, rather than hearing that awful news that Rich was no longer with us in this life; that Ricki Marie's daddy died; that Irene had to watch her only son die; that Mr. Cartwright missed hearing his son say goodbye; and that Diane lost her brother, her flesh and blood. Many people knew Rich through his articles, particularly for taking over Uncensored from Texas Death Row (Paul Colella being the original writer) .................... You will find the rest of "A Moment of Silence...." at www.chitown.co.nr/ God Bless you, Irene, Ricki Marie, Diane, Mr. Cartwright, Layne, Missy, all of Rich’s family/friends, all those on Texas Death Row, on all Death Rows in the USA and around the world.
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Post by sclcookie on May 24, 2006 12:22:05 GMT -5
May 24, 2006 Prior to Rich being executed, he requested that I post his Use of Force tapes for the public to view. Here is the Use Of Force on December 20, 2004 in which Richard Cartwright made his decision to take over Uncensored from Texas Death Row. see here: www.1prison.com/uncensored05242006.htmlYou can find Rich's first Uncensored artical here: www.1prison.com/rcuncensored1.htmlPlease be advise that William Berkley will no longer be a co-writer for Uncensored for good reasons. He is welcome to come back as a co-writer at anytime. One thing I want to stress is that the co-writers who write for Uncensored go through a lot that we can't imagine, nor would we really want to, I'm sure you are aware. If a co-writer has a "dry spell" or may have to be removed as a co-writer for whatever reason, it's not to deny you or them....it's.....I don't know how to explain it, except to tell you to imagine what it would be like if you are waiting for the government to kill you, going through whatever "the system" puts out and the emotional stresses. If someone decides not to write for Uncensored anymore.....please look at the whole picture and don't assume. Also, I want to make clear that who becomes a co-writer of Uncensored is not based on any "prison politics" or "racial" issues and each inmate is an individual and has their own views on things, therefore, they may not agree with the other inmates who write for Uncensored. By Robert Pruett 999411 aka Simple Man Week 19 2006 May 8, 2006 The next couple of days mark a decade since I was convicted of murder (pursuant to the 'law of parties' stipulation under Texas law) and sentenced to a 99 year prison term. Some days it seems like that was just yesterday, other days it feels like eons ago. It all depends on the mood that I'm in. Right now it feels like that all happened about ten years ago. My section had its off day for recreation today and I spent it writing. To be more accurate, I've spent the day editing and pulling my hair out! I'm not exactly satisfied with my latest draft of the preface and chapter one (will I ever be?!), but I think I'll write out the final draft tomorrow and prepare it to be posted on my website. Afterwards, I'll get right to work on chapter two. Believe it or not, I'm working diligently to get this out before the end of the summer, and I think I can accomplish that goal if I stay the course. It's just a frustrating process at times. My neighbor often says that the writing process isn't for the faint of heart and I wholeheartedly agree. It has been hot and humid in these cells as of late. When they were shaking down they had the air conditioner turned on so that the officers could work in comfort, but they turned it down about two weeks later. This went unnoticed because it wasn't all that hot outside, yet here lately the temperature has been around 90 degrees every day. After 5pm the cell begins to really heat up. You can't even move around without breaking a sweat. My guess is that they are trying to conserve energy (money) until it gets blazing hot, that's why they cut it down........ I feel like a dork writing about the weather! Is it that boring here, or is it just me? Probably more of the latter!! ;-) If you want to know about the weather in Texas you can watch the weather station, right? Well, in my defense, I don't believe the weather station will tell you that the administration here turned our air conditioner down! May 9, 2006 Another problem that we face living in this environment deals with psychosomatics. Living in these conditions can make a person think that he's sick or suffering from some disease, and he'll even experience the symptoms of this imagined ailment when in fact there's nothing wrong. How can that happen? When you have plenty of time to pay close attention to every ache and pain, or any other sensation, then you become susceptible to illusions that you've fallen to some malignant disease. People who are free (or not living in such a sensory deprived environment) might experience a slight pain in the back, a cramped muscle, etc..., take note of it, then dismiss it and refocus on their job or whatever task they might be doing unless it recurs. We generally don't have the luxury of such distractions, so we sometimes obsess over any ache and pain. I bring this up because it's possible that I've succumbed to such self-deception over the past three and a half years. How can it happen if you're aware of it? I don't know. The fact is that I've been experiencing pain and discomfort in my lower abdominal area and stomach since December of 2003 and I sometimes have digestive problems. I've been to the medical department at least a dozen times since this first began and they haven't found a single thing wrong with me. At first they thought it was dehydration, but after I increased my water intake from 4-6 cups per day to 10-12, I still had these problems. I've concluded that it's either psychosomatics or they really haven't checked me out. The pain isn't at all extreme, so I won't raise too much hell unless it becomes difficult to function. If it starts to really bother me, I'll press the issue something fierce. And if I die from it, it has been documented and my friends will make TDCJ shell out a boatload of money in a lawsuit. My mom's dirt poor. She could use the money! :-) I'll be okay. It's probably all in my head. May 10, 2006 A long-time ago, I learned that it's not wise to sweat the small stuff in prison. sh*t happens and I generally shake it off and carry on with my business as long as it isn't anything serious. I learned that some battles are worth fighting, others not so much. To illustrate this point, I haven't filed more than 10 grievances in the ten years that I've been in the TDCJ-ID and I'll bet the number is closer to five. That being said, this issue with the mailroom has gone too far for too long. Last night I received a letter postmarked on April 15th from Switzerland. I've consistently exchanged letters with my friend over there for four years and it rarely takes longer than seven days to receive a letter from over there. Twenty-four days is totally unacceptable. I'll file a grievance on this and send letters to the warden and major, but I fear that these attempts at resolving the problem will be disregarded, as they so often are in here. After all, I'm just an inmate, on death row to boot. Years ago I heard a warden tell another inmate who had a problem, "You should've thought about that before you broke the law, boy." Translation: “We get to violate the law in order to make you suffer because you violated the law first.” Another time an officer straight up told me, "You know the difference between you and I? I ain't been caught yet." Anyhow, I think I've come up with a plan to get some act right with this mailroom. We need YOUR help. Everyone who's reading this who has a friend or family member here has surely been experiencing these same problems with the mail being processed. If all of you call the head warden (Warden Massey) and complain about the mailroom not being in compliance, he should resolve the situation. If that doesn't work, then call Huntsville and get in touch with some of the big wigs who run the system. You can also contact Kathy Cleere at the Ombudsmen Office. If they get enough complaints, they'll take care of the problem. The following is the policy pertaining to processing our mail: "All incoming mail, except packages, will be delivered within 24 hours of receipt, except on weekends and holidays. Incoming packages will be delivered within 48 hours of receipt, except on weekends and holidays. The hours of weekends and holidays shall not be used in computing the 24 and 48 hour period. “All outgoing mail, except packages, will be delivered to a United States Postal Service employee within 24 hours, except on weekends and holidays. Outgoing packages will be delivered to a United States Postal Service employee within 48 hours, except on weekends and holidays. The hours of weekends and holidays shall not be used in computing the 24 and 48 hour period." The above is the policy, copied verbatim, from the "Board Policy-03.91, section IV, sub-section F". It is pursuant to 18 U.S.C section 1716; sections 498.0042, 492.013 (A) AND 499.102 (A) (12), Texas Government Code; section 28.111, Texas Penal Code. They also have rules and policies that they are supposed to abide by. Just because they haven't "been caught" yet, or aren't in white, doesn't give them impunity from the law. We need your help to make sure that they get into compliance in that mailroom. Today has been unusually quiet. I missed rec, but I did work out prior to shower, so I don't feel like a total loser. ;-) I've decided to wait until Friday before I type out my final copy of the preface and chapter one of my autobiography. I need to wait until I receive a couple of books from the library on Friday to recheck a couple of my sources, but I'm certain that I'll have it ready to go out come Monday morning. Afterwards, I'll get right to work on chapter two. Alright, I will holler at y'all tomorrow. To file a complaint in regards to the mailroom situation, please contact Kathy Cleere or Loyd Massey at: Kathy Cleere P.O. Box 99 Huntsville, TX 77342 Phone: (936) 437-8035 Fax: (936) 295-8712 Loyd Massey 3872 FM 350 South Livingston, TX 77351 Phone: (936) 967-8082 (054) Fax: (936) 967-8437 May 11, 2006 Earlier I went outside with my neighbor. The temperature was in the high 80s to low 90s and there was a nice breeze the entire time that we were out there. It truly was a beautiful day to be outside. I did some light stretching and walked around the yard while we conversed about miscellaneous things. He laid his T-shirt on the concrete slab and stretched out over it so he could soak up some sun, while I ran around shooting hoops for about 30 minutes in order to get a nice sweat going. Afterwards, I too laid down on the concrete and absorbed some of those splendid rays. We laid in silence for a few minutes before he spoke, "It sure is a pretty day to be outside.” "Yeah, it is." "It would be even prettier if I was laying on a boat deck, rather than concrete, with a cooler full of Heineken to my left and my girl to my right. And I'd have the radio tuned to Country Legends," he said with a smile. "That sounds great," I chimed in. "Except I'd be on a floaty in the water so I could roll into the water whenever I felt like swimming, which would be every ten minutes." Of course, this exchange ignited some reminiscing from the both of us. We shared anecdotes about times spent out in the Gulf of Mexico and various rivers in Texas, we talked about wild misadventures (like me getting stranded on Crystal Beach during Spring Break of 1995. It's a longggg storyyyy!), and other related summer/water stories. And, of course, I got sunburnt! :-) It was well worth it though. Today is sheet day. Every Thursday we exchange sheets and pillow cases for clean ones. Any other day of the week it might take the officers working the run 30 minutes to pass out necessities to the 84 cells on a pod, but on sheet day it typically takes them about an hour. They are presently in the next section headed our way. I predict that they'll be over here within 5 minutes. After I get my clean sheets, I'm going to read for the rest of the night. All that reminiscing today has me all hyped up. I need to wind down and what better way than with a good book? See y'all tomorrow! May 12, 2006 Everything is in order for the preface and chapter one in my autobiography. I just need to check a couple of my sources from the library. I ordered the books that I need and they should be here anytime now. They pass out books on Fridays after shift change (2nd shift). As soon as they bring me those books, I will begin typing out the preface and chapter one and it should be ready to go out Monday morning. As far as when it'll be posted on my site, well, I can't make that prediction because I have no idea. If you put a gun to my head I would guess that it would be on my site by the end of the month, but don't quote me on that, it's not in my control. Once before, I mentioned that I clean my cell Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Let me describe exactly what that entails. The first thing I do is dust off my mattress and lean it up against the back wall on my bunk. Next, I dust off the bunk and pick everything up off of my floor (I keep old magazines up against the wall and the bunk, my typewriter, cleaning supplies, personal and shower shoes, and my hot pot on the floor) and put it onto the bunk. I then take my towel (this is after I shower) and sweep my floor with it several times, making sure to get every bit of dust off the floor and into the toilet. I don't sweep it under the door because it'll just blow back into the cell when there's traffic out there. After the floor is swept, I take my cell towel (a small piece of cloth that they pass out on Tuesdays) and soap it down with shampoo, then I wash the entire concrete floor. After I pick up the soapy water, I turn my fan on so it'll dry faster. Then I rinse the cell out and sprinkle some bippy on it (the cleaning solutions they pass out on Sundays) and clean the toilet and stainless steel wall that it is attached to. After that's done, I move everything off of the bunk back to its proper location. Oh yeah, I scrub the table with bippy after I hit the stainless steel with it. And that’s about it. It usually takes about 20 minutes to do all of that, depending on how fast I work. Alright, the officer with the library books is here so I'll wrap this up. I've got at least 4 hours of work in me tonight. I'd better get to it. May 13–14, 2006 I was super busy all day Saturday. Sometime past 7am, I stumbled out of bed and began working on my autobiography. I worked on it all day, only breaking to shower and eat. I finished the preface and chapter one about an hour after shift change, then I listened to the Dallas vs San Antonio game, which was an AWESOME basketball game!! If all the NBA games were officiated like this one, and played with the level of intensity that this one was, then I'd keep up with the NBA on a regular basis. Unfortunately, the refs play favorites more often than not, and the players tend to take games off during the regular season. It just bugs the hell out of me when a 90% free throw shooter misses the entire rim on two foul shots! You can't tell me dudes like that didn't smoke a bomb before the game! Anyhow, after the game, I wanted to write a letter because I'm way behind, but I found myself standing at my door talking to my neighbor. It was late anyway (past 11pm), so I decided to wait until today to write some letters. I doubt I'll be able to catch up today, but I'll make up whatever I don't get to tomorrow. Alright, I'd better get to work. I'll holler at y'all tomorrow. One day at a time, Simple Man Robert Pruett 999411, Polunsky Unit, 3872 FM 350 S., Livingston, TX, 77351, USA www.simpleman-robertpruett.com contact@simpleman-robertpruett.com Please take into consideration that inmates do not have access to the Internet. Any correspondence will be printed out and forwarded to Robert by mail. Please allow at least three weeks for Robert to respond and make sure to include a mail address where responses should be sent. Will, Robert, I have a letter out to you and a few others at Polunsky that I sent a while back. I'm still wandering if y'all recieved my letters. I've got another letter to you, but I haven't mailed it out yet. hugggz, Suzanne
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