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Imprisonment

May 7, 2014

Imprisonment is rougher on the spirit than it is on the body. Especially for a person like me, a nomad. I search for ways to soothe my spirit when it’s crying out. Might catch the sound of a woman’s laugh, a stray smile—if you are lucky enough to grasp those rare moments, give thanks to God.

Obviously, I write a lot. I’ve also got a radio, hardly watch television, and a guitar. Seems music is in my spirit. I’be been able to transition my “air guitar” skills to a real guitar and am still learning. Always listening to guitars, seeing them and holding them when I was younger. Being passionate has led me to learn a few chords and write a few songs. I recorded a couple of tentative tunes, but I’m sure those recordings suck! It was sort of a practice run.

http://youtu.be/adX15VspL9A

But it seems my dreams of recording, through technology on iPads, etc, and becoming a YouTube sensation has come to an end. There are towers around the prison now that block cell phone signals and a couple of phones have already, been shot down. Goodbye to all the beautiful, sexy women that I was meeting on the Internet. Too bad I don’t still have my smart phone with all the videos I’d downloaded—my TV has a working USB port.

http://youtu.be/ka_NcQZJTiY

Yeah, you can sometimes get things in here if the price is right. Sometimes. Keeping my fingers crossed for a way around towers, and a USB drive full of sultry, sordid, lewd, dirty, pornographic downloads. I guess prison is pretty rough on the body, too. Lifers can’t get conjugal visits. Some chick asked if I could—she wanted to come all the way from Florida for a weekend with me. Yeah, I’m pretty proud of that. She threw me a smile, a wink, and a kiss with some pictures, so it hurt me deeply when I had to tell her no. These are the sort of things that can cause me grief.

I don’t know, what the hell else can I say? Not too much. I’m out of here.Sean2

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2 Comments
  1. This is a really nice post 🙂

    Like

  2. Well, thank you. Prison is tough… My nearly finished manuscript was lost in a scuffle with the staff. They threw it in the trash as a reprisal to my resistance. Some of those poems were the only copy. I’m doing my best to reconstruct the manuscript right now as I sit in Ad-Seg.

    Like

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