Thursday, August 24, 2006

18 July 06

Frankie Reacts to Royo Girl

Click here for Kissed Part 1.

“Englandman,” Frankie said, “I’ll dee-cide who you kiss and who you don’t kiss. This Royo Girl has to have my approval. I wanna see a picture of her in a swimsuit.”
“So you’re not jealous?” I asked.
“Why should I be? I’ve gotcha real close by. And it’s only a kiss.”
“Good to hear it.”
“I’m not a bad guy, Englandman. I’m a nice guy. I’m into open relationships. But you betta recognise: I’m always the man in the relationship. I like your reader’s idea.”
“Which one?”
“About practicin’ kissin with me. I’m down to practice, Englandman. I’m game. You know it ain't my first rodeo. I know how to do these things. I’m easy to please. Besides, homey, I’m gonna practice on the back of your neck while I poke you at the same time.”
“You only get to do that when you dream of Yum-Yum.”
“My friend just saw Yum-Yum back at county jail, and she’s lookin’ fine, dude.”
“Well, you stick with Yum-Yum, I’ll stick with Royo Girl.”
“Englandman, you know you’re gonna give it up one of these days.”
“Never.”
Frankie seems to be playing it too cool, I thought. I wonder what he’s up to.

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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood

Monday, August 21, 2006

17th July 06

T-Bone V Ponytail (Part 1)

T-Bone stopped by and I asked him for another fight story.

“I had a problem,” T-Bone began, “with a biker dude named Ponytail 'cause a white chick was visitin’ me, and there was a lotta racial tension on the yard.”
“What did Ponytail look like?”
“He was 6 foot 6 and 310 pounds. He was doin’ steroids.
I was in the chow line, Ponytail bumped into me, and people thought I was weak 'cause I didn’t do anythin’. After chow, I hit the weight pile. I had 315 on the bench, rippin’ it, doin’ sets of 10. Ponytail came over to the black bench and started takin’ my weights. I said, ‘Hey man. I’m not finished with that yet.’ He said, ‘You are now, boy.’ I said, ‘Wait a minute. All that name callin’ ain’t necessary, man.’ Then Squeeze said, ‘Check this out, young brother. There’s an old sayin’ about prison we have in here: you don’t lay down for nobody and they won’t punk you.’ I said, ‘Ain’t nobody gonna punk me.’ He said, ‘We hope not.’ Then they called one of the leaders of the whites over, Two-Step Willy."
“What a name!”
“It comes from a snake in Vietnam. If you take two steps near it you’re dead. Squeeze told Two-Step Willy, ‘We’re aware of what happened in the chow hall between this young brother and Ponytail. We’re gonna put the young brother in there with him to handle his business.’ More whites came but a sergeant yelled, ‘Break it up!’ and started pattin’ people down. The sergeant found dope and weapons, so they paid him $20 to turn his head.
I got another visit from my girlfriend. Ponytail and his girlfriend were there, and he started makin’ comments outta the side of his neck.”
“Such as?”
“Sayin’ stuff like, ‘monkey’, and ‘ape’, and ‘anybody with a monkey or an ape is one too.’ He called my girlfriend ‘a nigger lover.’ People at visitation were lookin’, and they started speakin’ up. One said, ‘Hey Ponytail, we’re out here with our families just visitin’. This stuff shouldn’t be comin’ out here unless you wanna start a race riot between everybody on this yard.’ Ponytail said, ‘To hell with him. And to hell with you.’
After the visit, I went back to the yard. White dudes and eses were sayin’ how messed up it was, how they were gonna speak to their people, and if I’m not man enough to handle it they will. They were talkin’ outta the side of their necks too. They didn’t wanna see that dude one on one.
At the weight pile, I was reppin’ 225, when big old meathead Ponytail picked up a dirt clog and threw it. It hit the side of a 45 pound weight, broke up and went on me. The weight pile went quiet. Ponytail was tellin’ me he wanted to kill me. He had no respect for me. I was less than dirt. It was a death move. Within 45 seconds he and I were nose to nose. I couldn’t swing 'cause the cops in the gun tower drew down on me with a mini 14 – a rifle. The cop was a racist. The blacks ran out sayin’ ‘Chill out, T-Bone. Let it go.' I mellowed out 'cause of the weapon on me, but Ponytail made a move. So I extended my arm – a football move – straight up into his chest, and knocked him back. He fell over the bench onto the weights. I was hopin’ he’d realised he’d bit off more that he could chew. A yard sergeant came runnin’ with four goons – seasoned veterans. He gave us two choices, ‘Y’all can take it to the ring, put gloves on, and settle it like men or go to the hole for six months.’

Find out what happens next in part two of T-Bone v Ponytail.

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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood

Friday, August 18, 2006

15 July 06

Question Time

KR asked if I am suffering much and what I miss most.

After having your head in a vise for a long time, you forget the vise is there.
The worst I had it was at Joe Arpaio’s cockroach-infested jail. It was hard to sleep in those conditions. But it was while I was there that the blog began. Nietzsche claimed that suffering makes noble. I don’t know about noble but it has had a profound effect on me. Suffering has been a real education. Prison has better conditions than in the jail. It's bearable. Things could be worse.

The closeness of a woman is what I miss most. Many prisoners would answer the same. I miss not being able to see my family whenever I want to. Good food and music. Being able to do exactly what I want to do whenever I want to do it. Everything is scheduled here. But still, I’ve developed a routine to channel my manic energy into, from which I obtain a lot of satisfaction.

I’d like to add: I broke the law and put myself in prison. Poor conditions and suffering are part of my fate. I’d hate for anyone to misconstrue from my blogs that I’m complaining about what’s happened to me. As mortified as I was in the beginning, incarceration has worked out to be a blessing.

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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

13 July 06

Psychotherapy With Dr. O’Malley (Part 4)

On Dr O’s desk were Principles of Neurology, The Human Mind Explained, and a copy of Scientific American Mind.
The session began with Dr O reading my thought journal, which detailed the joy I felt on seeing my sister and father, and the disappointment and tension surrounding the special visits being cancelled due to the hostage situation.
“How did you deal with these feelings during that time?” Dr O asked.
“Using cognitive techniques,” I said. “I tried to look at it as an activating event over which I had no control, something I shouldn’t get stressed about.”
“Did that work?”
“No. When it comes to things that upset my family, I get upset myself.”
“Is that normal or abnormal?”
“Normal for most people.”
“You were looking forward to those visits for a long time. Then something happened and you had no control over events. Your hormones responded. Did you cope with it?”
“My anxiety was up. My thoughts became depressed. I felt lousy. But I wrote and wrote and wrote. I felt better towards the end of it. I guess I tried to go with the flow after the shock wore off.”
“It’s more than just going with the flow. Going with the flow is what put you in prison. It’s about increased self-awareness. It’s about how you express your energy.”
“How so?”
“Let’s take a pilot as an example. If a pilot gets into a conflict at home, he’s going to take that negative energy with him. If he gets in a conflict day after day then that negative energy is going to compromise his ability to fly a plane safely.”
“I see. So did I express the negative energy of the hostage situation in a good or bad way?”
“What did you do with the energy?”
“I wrote.”
“There you go. You answered your own question. Didn’t you thrive on chaotic energy in the past? Isn’t uncertainty a theme of the stock market? And partying? Couldn’t that have blown up in your face at any time?”
“I do enjoy the wild fluctuations of the stock market. You said that a reason for my partying was the need for cheap thrills. But the hostage situation was different. My family suffered. And that was upsetting.”
“And how do you feel about that now?”
“I accept what’s happened, and because I didn’t get to see Dad for as long as we'd planned, he is coming back in October with my mum and aunt. So now I’ve got something to look forward to again.”
“When do you get out of prison?”
“I’m eligible for deportation in November, 2007.”
“A year and a half. It’s time for you to start planning.”
“The prospect of getting out is comforting. During the hostage situation it was in the back of my mind that I’ll be out soon, and not have to deal with all of this.”
“All this what? The torrent of absurdities? If someone on the street had to deal with what you’re dealing with they’d be running down the street screaming. ‘This can’t be! Someone can surely fix this!’ Yet in here, things that may be difficult for outsiders to deal with happen all the time. Because of this environment you’ve gained skills that will help you when you are released. Your level of resilience is way up. You’ve matured. You now have an ability to bounce back from all sorts of things. You’ve learnt these things the hard way, but what’s important is that you’ve learned them. Some people may go through life never having learned the things you’ve learned in here. Something you have to consider for when you hit the streets is that issues you had to deal with before your arrest have been on hold.”
“Viktor Frankl compared the released prisoner’s experience to divers' bends.”
“But his experience was in the late 30s and early 40s. He used his prison experience to help people when he got out. His techniques were nothing new. That knowledge has been around for millenniums.”
“Reading the ancient Greeks, I see how they have been recycled by various contemporary schools of thought.”
“Which Greeks have you read?”
“More than I can remember or pronounce. The preSocratics and plenty of Plato and Aristotle.”
“And how does studying them work for you?”
“I think it enhances my critical-thinking skills.”
“Excellent.”
“The atomists seemed to be early physicists. The principle of conservation of energy, in that it cannot be created, destroyed or divided, ties in with the Hindu belief that everything just is.”
“But there’s still plenty we don’t know. When we thought atoms were the smallest particles along came electrons, protons and neutrons – and then stuff like quarks, neutrinos, muons, gluons, bosons, and all kinds of obscure little elements. We revised Newton. We’re revising Einstein. It’s an evolving process. At least what you’re learning will help you when you get out. Most people go out with what they learn here, and they don’t have a lot. If you are willing to accept a broad-based view of yourself and take it to the outside world, you’re going to have a lot of potential to do well. It’s about accepting yourself, knowing when to hold your head up, and knowing when to be careful.”
“I’m used to going overboard.”
“But you’re learning to affect yourself, to modulate who you are most days. You’re not trying to change the lives of thousands of people, which is what got you in prison.”
“Isn’t that under control because of the environment I’m in? I keep myself to myself here.”
“That’s here. If you ran around grandiosely inside here the thugs would just as soon crush you. It’s a good adaption you have reached. You blend in. You are learning to remain humble, which wasn’t your previous inclination.”
“I still have to work on my humility.”
“We all do. You have to allow yourself to have humility. You have to put it into practice and not struggle with it. Looking at your thought journal, I can see you are making progress with this. You’re getting a grip on your natural inclination towards grandiosity. When you’re on the streets do you want to be the person who runs to a window and jumps out or the person who walks to a window, relaxes, and enjoys the view?”
“I want to stay sane if that’s what you mean.”
“Keep focussed, day to day, on your ups and downs, realising your emotional shifts like you did during the hostage situation, when the world was screwed up. When there was a crisis. And a response, and a crisis for everyone else. Look at what DOC did. They stopped everything. They assessed the situation - is it safe or unsafe? They determined it was safe and eased up a little bit at a time, gradually. It’s the same for you, your gradual ease, your slowly increased ability to think more broadly. And you’re starting to do it. The results are clear in your thought journal. You’re showing a willingness to be who you are, without having to dress yourself up.”
“How far have I got to go?”
“The rest of your life. We all continue to evolve, to observe and learn from life’s plusses and minuses. Take Viktor Frankl. He got out. Not unscathed, but he took what he learned to help others. Everything you do affects your brain – including this talk therapy.
Until next time, I want you to keep up the thought journal. You’re making progress. You’re reshaping your brain. And I’d like you to consider the dynamic interplay of energy when you’re doing yoga.”
“OK. Thanks for that. I feel I’m learning a great deal from you. You’re taking everything I’ve learned to deeper levels.”
"No. The person taking it to deeper levels is you.”

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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood

Monday, August 14, 2006

11 July 06

Shopping

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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood

Thursday, August 10, 2006

9 July 06

Kissed (Part 2)

Click here for A Kiss Part 2.

Although I wanted to lock on her face like a wheel clamp and drain her dry of saliva, I tried to act cool.

Approaching her, my heart fluttered.
It all happened so fast.
Greetings.
Hugs and kisses.

As her lips gently brushed mine, I felt an electrical spark. Eyes closed, I travelled elsewhere.

Seated, we laughed and talked incessantly. I couldn’t take my eyes off her's. It was as if our eyes were speaking in a language of their own.

Oudoors, we walked and held hands along Lovers' Lane (laps around the picnic tables). There’s nothing so good for the ego as to be transformed from a celled-up ghost of a Romeo to a cock of the walk.

Royo Girl and I seem to be a match made by Cupid. She is strong and intelligent and soothing to be around. I didn’t feel uncomfortable or anxious in her presence. We dovetailed.

The visit ended with more hugs and kisses.

Royo Girl departed with flowers from the garden where Xena works. A bouquet of African daisies, bachelor buttons and zinnias.

Do I have a have a future with Royo Girl? I thought as I walked back to the yard. Have you lost your mind? You can't think like that after just one visit. My sister is right about me falling in love too easily. What’s wrong with me? But some force is at work here. What was the chance of us getting along like we did? But there are so many things aginst us ever being together. It’s because you're a prisoner you’re desperate for female attention. Stop the romantic thoughts. You sound like a teenager. But I can't get her out of my mind.

Back in my cell, I was visited by Jack. Jack is one of the brightest people I’ve met inside. He calculates math quicker than a Pentium.

"How did your visit go?” Jack asked.
“I can still feel the electricity. We chatted and giggled like little kids for over four hours. The other visitors seemed poker faced in comparison.”
“Did you feel there was relationship potential?”
“I did, but I can’t expect anything like that. I don’t want to be a prison boyfriend. She’s got her life to lead and I’m stuck in here. It’s not fair until I’m released.”
“That’s a sensible and mature answer. Surprising coming from you.”
“Thanks.”

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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood

Monday, August 7, 2006

08 July 06

Kissed

Click here for Kissed Part 2.

What life is there, what delight, without golden Aphrodite?
Mimnermus of Smyrna 634-600 BC.

Love is a silly infatuation… I love nobody.
Napoleon Bonaparte 1769-1821.

Last night, I received an envelope from Royo Girl containing two computer printouts: Kelly Brook topless and Paris Hilton’s legs.

6:30am Royo Girl is visiting today, I thought. I hope she makes it. It seems too good to be true. I'm so excited. But I should prepare myself just in case she doesn't come - remember what happened with Claudia. I never imagined I’d feel so happy over hugs and kisses - and hours of female company. Calm down, it’s no big deal - or is it?
I need to plan for her arrival. I’d better check the breakfast menu to see if there’s anything likely to cause bad breath. Let’s see: hot cereal, biscuits, grilled potatoes, and three ounces of sharp cheddar cheese. Uh-oh. The cheese is out of the question. I can’t be kissing with my breath smelling like sweaty socks. I’ll give my cheese to
Slingblade.
Standing in front of the mirror, I thought, I look like Edvard Munch’s The Scream. Those nose hairs will have to go. I’ need to shave my face smooth, and get rid of that hair below my Adam’s apple. I'll give my ears a good clean.
What about clothing? OK, George did a good job pressing my pants. My new boxers are good to go. And my new T-shirt. There’s my socks, my sneakers. I’m set.

10:11a.m. “Dog eleven, you’ve gotta visit!”

Wow! She’s here. It’s unreal. Get dressed – fast!

My clothes found themselves on my body so fast they didn’t know what had hit them.

Go-go-go! But what about all the paperwork on my desk? I can’t leave it like that, I might get a ticket. It’s going to take me ages to file it away. What should I do?

Behaving like one of my childhood heroes, Thing from the Fantastic Four, I growled and seized the paperwork. I raised it and threw it toward an open drawer. It travelled through the air like an origami tumbleweed, spitting pens and envelopes. I slammed the drawer shut so hard it banged the wall and made my neighbour yell, “Whatthafuck England!”
I tossed an apology into the AC vent, and launched myself out of the cell. I felt like a guided missile programmed to strike the visitation room and propel through all obstacles in its way.
Like confetti bouncing off steel, inmates' heckles couldn't slow me down..
“Should I place medical staff on standby at the visitation room in case you get too excited?” Officer Gundel yelled. His question failed to slow me down.

Standing at the front of the visitation room, smiling but also looking a little nervous, was Royo Girl. I couldn't take my eyes off her face - it had a hint of Irish mischievousness, and her black outfit enhanced it's radiance.


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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood