Through my soul

                I have been asked what makes me write, why do I write, or what do I feel when writing. It sounds so easy and simple to answer, yet very hard to admit or realize. At the start writing was my way to escape reality, to escape my cell, to escape my life. I wanted to write even as a young boy in Canada, so prison wasn’t the key ingredient to launch my “career” or lack thereof. I write selfishly to feel good, I write to live a fantasy life or in a fantasy world. I write to say sorry for what I have done because at times it’s easier then actually saying sorry.

            I don’t feel my writing is special in any way because I write what I feel in my heart and soul and that does not take talent. Honestly I hope my writing helps others understand what I went through in prison and therefore what their loved one(s) are going through. In a way a microphone so to speak. There are times I just get tired or bored of writing about prison, how much can I really say about a subject so dear to some and so justified to many more. Prison is a very bad place to live.

            You see prison is what you make of it. For some it’s an extension of their life in the “freeworld” or outside world. They live a violent life on the outside and continue that life style on the inside, and in doing so make life for many others terrible. Most of the guys I knew inside wanted to do their time, obey the rules best they could and go home. I had never seen so much drama as I had witness behind the walls of TDC (TDCJ now).

            I truly believed at times that some were not happy unless they could create chaos to those around them. The joy in others pain. But in saying that there were many positive times in prison. Friendships were created from the most of bizarre circumstances, we played board games and watched TV. We shared ideas as well as books. We “spread” nightly and joked. We talked of the big game and family. We shared photos of loved ones and children and grandchildren. We readied for work and chow time, we waiting on the call for commissary and library.

            We all did the best we could out of a terrible situation. Some better than others. A big part of our day as I have stated before was mail call. No other aspect of prison was as important as receiving letters from loved ones and friends. Now a days, with the phone system I’m sure the brothers I left behind look forward to hearing all your voices even more.

            So why do I write? Maybe to help some of you, maybe to help myself. Maybe to see if I can or if I’m as good a writer as I have been told. It’s not a skill or a talent to tell a story from your heart and soul. It is I who am grateful that you, my readers allow me a few minutes once in a while to enter your lives. 

I haven't been very visible on my own group of late. Thanks to the ladies who have helped me keep this group alive, my Ad-Mins, who are a bigger part of this than me. I have had a lot happen in the last few months, mostly all positive. At times it confuses me with "good" things happening as opposed of bad things. Yes bad things still raised there ugly heads and my past comes back to haunt me, but now I have a better out look and remain positive. In prison I had come to realize most things that happen to us are of our on doing, good or bad, the key is how you deal with it and what caused it.

My desire to write has left me, and I worry if it will ever come back. This isn't something as simple as turning it on or off, if it was I would have fixed it by now. At times I am taken back by what fueled me to write in the first place. Was it a way to get the word out about my time in prison so I could with my humble words help others? Or selfishly wanting to help myself? Was it a cry out to family and friends in an attempt to say sorry?

It has been over 3 years since my release from TDC in which I spent 10 years "inside". Those 10 years I know now have consumed me more than the 45 spent in the "Free World". At times I wish not to go back down those roads to relive my time inside. Could that in part be a reason for my non desire to write? Maybe, but I do write non-fiction and love that. I love making stuff up, living a fantasy world on paper, where I become the hero.

I feel I may be a dis-service to some of you who have looked forward to my writings of life and prison life. In no way is it anyone's fault but my own for stepping back. There are times I have a hard time reading all my notes and stories of prison life. I don't want those 10 years to over power my life as they have at times. To this day I still have dreams and a over powering feeling of going back. In saying that there are times I even miss it.

I am stronger now then I have ever been and happier too. Events in my life before prison have finally started to be put to bed so to speak. There are times I still miss my time before prison. The feeling that my children would remain their age and size upon release. That my job would be waiting and my favorite truck would be outside my home that was no longer my home.

I have met many wonderful people since getting out that have left so many positive feelings with me. I feel I have turned a corner in my life and feel pretty good about the road ahead. I want to thank all of you who have stuck by me and have read and commented on my posts. Hopefully with this small piece of writing I will put some demons to bed for good. I need not hugs or prays, save those for someone who really needs them. I am my own worse enemy, as well as my best friend......I think lol.