Saturday, July 12, 2008
3-16-04 (#1)
Mama,
Hello Ms. McGurn! Well it’s the middle of March. It’s probably early or late -late at night. And guess what? I am all alone- cursed by my own wishful thinking. My old cellie is just that my old cellie. He has been gone for a couple of days now. His dumb ass had three guys in the cell after chow. The guard blocked them in. They arrested them and searched the cell. Yep- they found all the “goodies”. My cellie had stashed away in the vent-tatoo gun – sling – tattoo paraphernalia. Of course they also found a glove he had made out of the bottom of his pants and charges him with attempted escape. They locked us down and one day into lock down they rolled him to super Max Unit. The bad part is that they gave me a ticket as well. They gave me 63 days of “loss of privileges” –which I don’t get anyways- so, big deal. I am now a 4-4. But don’t worry, in another month it will go back to a 4-3.
I have to take two years off of my sentence on this yard anyways, so I should be a 3 something by then and get off the yard.
Another bad part is that he took his T.V. Right now I am borrowing my neighbors radio. So, I am alright. Plus I got some books today. I just got done with one. I read the whole thing in about 3 hours. 300 pages or so. It’s one of those “Ender’s Game” Sequels. I’ve got three of the saga’s.
I have a deep thirst right now for intellectual stimulation. This dumb guard keeps staring in my cell. She’s weird and beastie. But it is good to see a woman’s face at a time like this- in a place like this.
I ripped out a part of a magazine ad for Curve. I put it in my drawer, so when I open it I get a whiff. Jesse used to wear it. He got me liking the scent. God I miss him.
I mapped out by months the number I have left. All the way up to 2010. I visualized myself being 27 and it’s hard to grasp. I followed the aging of Jesse and Christifer as well as my own little Cierra. Just for kicks, I also mapped Sarah turning 30J I would have done you too, but you’ll always be 29 to me J.
My solitude, I hope will continue on through the weekend. It’s a Thursday already so there is a chance. I said a couple of prayers that my new cellie would be someone cool and I could get along with.
In my police report, I had a picture of my driver’s license enlarged. I hung it next to you and Chopper- Mom and Papa too. I wish I had a picture of Cierra to help me get through the hard times. I want to hear her call me Daddy so bad. I wouldn’t mind hearing any woman call me “Daddy” right now! J
I’ve got to be okay. Everything is not that bad, right? Things will work in my favor, right? I will be saved by nothing less than miraculous from the th next 72 months, right? Am I crazy or just delusional? Whatever the case, I still have hope for myself and the world for that matter.
I got the notion from a book about guardian angels. That Eternity is always- a never ending flow of energy. Forming existence we-past and present- take part in this flow or cycle either willingly or blinded. That helps me deal. I can cope with 72 months, if that is the plan. But if not, I have every lasting faith in eternity, the flow, part God, part Heaven. What ever happens is God’s will. Right now I am learning more about whom I am and what I stand for. I don’t know if I’m right. I understand my full capacity to achieve- my purpose or any purpose for that matter.
Did you know that Hindu’s smear cow dung on their houses? Beef it’s what’s for dinner! J
So I will send this letter out in the morning. You’ll get it soon enough. I am reading another Orson Scott Card Sci-Fi book. But I’m kinda’ sick of Ender and his adventures. No more spaceships, Please! I’ll read it anyway, despite my current hatred of the subject.
The C.O.[guard] says I’m different in all of my pictures. My ability to change my appearance has made me a good outlaw.:) Charlie McGurn more famous than Jesse James.:)
I’ve been feeling the urge to write a book lately. What I would give for a typewriter. When I was younger, I loved hearing the drop of keys on paper. I used to push random keys just to make that beloved sound. It for some reason has to be a yellow cover with the title “banana” something. Not yet sure-maybe “peel”. I must do this though. I saw it in a dream.
In the bible prophets were given visions through dreams as well as in the Koran.
I never again will doubt the power of thought. Dreams are expressions of thought to what level is a mystery. Who plants the journeys we take at night and why? Other forces are at work. I am sure of it.
Well, I love you Mama. Forever in my prayers- you and yours. Remember, you deserve what you desire. You are on the right road! Never doubt the power you contain. We boys never have. I believe in you!
Your distant son,
Love, Charlie
Send everyone my good thoughts and love.
(There were two letters in the envelope, this one along with the previous letter.)
Mama,
It’s officially Thursday. I just got up about an hour ago. I didn’t want to waste envelope space, so, I thought I would write you again. This pen is on its last drop of ink. So, if I switch to pencil, you’ll know why.
Well, it’s my forth month of prison. The weird part is so little has happened that it feels as though a week has gone by. I hope this year goes by just as fast. I am wishing for a letter today. Maybe some good news from the outside- any news would be good now. Maybe I’ll get my wish.
Is it warmer over there, yet? It feels like summer here now. The weather here is very different from phoenix. It rains a lot here. I wish I could go play in it. Today is one of those rainy days. One of the days, I wish I was out of prison, frolicking in a park somewhere. Maybe with a dog, chopper preferably - just running around.
I am sleepy all of the time. I dreamt I was in the back of a car that drove through the beach into the water. There was a huge wave. I was told to roll up my window. It didn’t roll up as fast as I hoped and some water came in. By the second wave I was used to the spillage. I also had two bottles of wine. I put them in my back pack, but had no corkscrew. I found one in the front seat and discarded one of the bottles. Bizarre I know, it just seemed so real. I guess that’s just how my mind works.
Last night after I finished the sad letter, I asked God to speak through me. It was after I read that book and I couldn’t sleep. Words just flooded my mind as though ten people were reading out loud. Ten separate books popped into my head all at once. Words popped into my head that I had never heard before. One right after another, it was making it hard for me to think. Like some sort of information. Am I going nuts? Either way, it was cool.
Call me crazy or just plain lonely.. Maybe sub-consciously, I was just making words up to entertain myself. Either way I woke up as though enlightened. My prayers work, almost immediately. I am very content with my solitude today.
This young chief named Maric wants to move in. I told him to put in the paperwork. I get along with him. I think maybe I can help him. He seems lost. Oh I asked God to give me a vision and I got one. I think I am supposed to help him. His name was written in spray paint in my dream last night. I woke up and realized it was his name. I saw him in the chow hall today. I called him RaY-Ray the way it was written in my dream. For some strange reason he gave me a hug. Ha! Maric was like “Why don’t you just give him a kiss?”
There’s nothing like breakfast at 5:30 pm. Do you remember having breakfast for dinner? Corn Fritters, pancakes, hash browns and sausage. I miss my childhood.
There’s some radio station that has a very eclectic selection of radio shows. I first listened to it during a reggae show. Right now they are playing like Indian Music. I wouldn’t mind having a zitar. Last night was some rockabilly show- tonight elephant music.
I used to love “world music” on television. That was my favorite station. I like bizarre uplifting sounds.
My hair is getting long. I can eat my hair if I chose to. I started a new ponytail fad on the run. Followers of the shaggy head. Oh its Indian Jazzy-classical Indian slide guitar or elephant music.
I want to teach life the way Jesse did- without him even knowing it. Our own little Buddha. In Hendi, the word for doing right no matter what the cost is “Satyagraha”. Jesse was a man of this Satyagraha. Even though he’s not with us in the physical sense, his guidance is not lost. I hear him… I know you do too. J
Christifer never hugged me the way that Jesse did. Chris’ were always so aggressive and weird like he was trying to be a man in some distorted way. Jesse on the other hand understood your emotion and how to comfort. I love him. Not to say that Chris is any less important to me. It’s just that Chris doesn’t write and Jesse would have.
I remember the first time I was released form Juvie. Jesse was there with you- waiting for me along side you. You both hugged me and it started to rain. The clouds were a weird purple – even though it was night. But – he won’t be there waiting for me standing next to you this time. You waiting for the prodigal son.
But the time will come when you will have to hug me twice- once fro you and once for my little brother. I love you Mama. And even though I shed tears when I write these things to you, I have to let it out. At least you know my sorrow.
There’s so much I regret- so fucking much! There’s always more good memories of him than regrets. I will forever refuse to let him die. He will go on through us- through your grandchildren and mine- He will surface again. Because we are all forever in eternity.
Your loving son,
Charlie
P.S. You deserve what you desire! You deserve what you desire! You deserve what you desire! You among all people deserve what you desire – what you want wants you!
You are on the right track. Don’t give up! I love you!
Hello Ms. McGurn! Well it’s the middle of March. It’s probably early or late -late at night. And guess what? I am all alone- cursed by my own wishful thinking. My old cellie is just that my old cellie. He has been gone for a couple of days now. His dumb ass had three guys in the cell after chow. The guard blocked them in. They arrested them and searched the cell. Yep- they found all the “goodies”. My cellie had stashed away in the vent-tatoo gun – sling – tattoo paraphernalia. Of course they also found a glove he had made out of the bottom of his pants and charges him with attempted escape. They locked us down and one day into lock down they rolled him to super Max Unit. The bad part is that they gave me a ticket as well. They gave me 63 days of “loss of privileges” –which I don’t get anyways- so, big deal. I am now a 4-4. But don’t worry, in another month it will go back to a 4-3.
I have to take two years off of my sentence on this yard anyways, so I should be a 3 something by then and get off the yard.
Another bad part is that he took his T.V. Right now I am borrowing my neighbors radio. So, I am alright. Plus I got some books today. I just got done with one. I read the whole thing in about 3 hours. 300 pages or so. It’s one of those “Ender’s Game” Sequels. I’ve got three of the saga’s.
I have a deep thirst right now for intellectual stimulation. This dumb guard keeps staring in my cell. She’s weird and beastie. But it is good to see a woman’s face at a time like this- in a place like this.
I ripped out a part of a magazine ad for Curve. I put it in my drawer, so when I open it I get a whiff. Jesse used to wear it. He got me liking the scent. God I miss him.
I mapped out by months the number I have left. All the way up to 2010. I visualized myself being 27 and it’s hard to grasp. I followed the aging of Jesse and Christifer as well as my own little Cierra. Just for kicks, I also mapped Sarah turning 30J I would have done you too, but you’ll always be 29 to me J.
My solitude, I hope will continue on through the weekend. It’s a Thursday already so there is a chance. I said a couple of prayers that my new cellie would be someone cool and I could get along with.
In my police report, I had a picture of my driver’s license enlarged. I hung it next to you and Chopper- Mom and Papa too. I wish I had a picture of Cierra to help me get through the hard times. I want to hear her call me Daddy so bad. I wouldn’t mind hearing any woman call me “Daddy” right now! J
I’ve got to be okay. Everything is not that bad, right? Things will work in my favor, right? I will be saved by nothing less than miraculous from the th next 72 months, right? Am I crazy or just delusional? Whatever the case, I still have hope for myself and the world for that matter.
I got the notion from a book about guardian angels. That Eternity is always- a never ending flow of energy. Forming existence we-past and present- take part in this flow or cycle either willingly or blinded. That helps me deal. I can cope with 72 months, if that is the plan. But if not, I have every lasting faith in eternity, the flow, part God, part Heaven. What ever happens is God’s will. Right now I am learning more about whom I am and what I stand for. I don’t know if I’m right. I understand my full capacity to achieve- my purpose or any purpose for that matter.
Did you know that Hindu’s smear cow dung on their houses? Beef it’s what’s for dinner! J
So I will send this letter out in the morning. You’ll get it soon enough. I am reading another Orson Scott Card Sci-Fi book. But I’m kinda’ sick of Ender and his adventures. No more spaceships, Please! I’ll read it anyway, despite my current hatred of the subject.
The C.O.[guard] says I’m different in all of my pictures. My ability to change my appearance has made me a good outlaw.:) Charlie McGurn more famous than Jesse James.:)
I’ve been feeling the urge to write a book lately. What I would give for a typewriter. When I was younger, I loved hearing the drop of keys on paper. I used to push random keys just to make that beloved sound. It for some reason has to be a yellow cover with the title “banana” something. Not yet sure-maybe “peel”. I must do this though. I saw it in a dream.
In the bible prophets were given visions through dreams as well as in the Koran.
I never again will doubt the power of thought. Dreams are expressions of thought to what level is a mystery. Who plants the journeys we take at night and why? Other forces are at work. I am sure of it.
Well, I love you Mama. Forever in my prayers- you and yours. Remember, you deserve what you desire. You are on the right road! Never doubt the power you contain. We boys never have. I believe in you!
Your distant son,
Love, Charlie
Send everyone my good thoughts and love.
(There were two letters in the envelope, this one along with the previous letter.)
Mama,
It’s officially Thursday. I just got up about an hour ago. I didn’t want to waste envelope space, so, I thought I would write you again. This pen is on its last drop of ink. So, if I switch to pencil, you’ll know why.
Well, it’s my forth month of prison. The weird part is so little has happened that it feels as though a week has gone by. I hope this year goes by just as fast. I am wishing for a letter today. Maybe some good news from the outside- any news would be good now. Maybe I’ll get my wish.
Is it warmer over there, yet? It feels like summer here now. The weather here is very different from phoenix. It rains a lot here. I wish I could go play in it. Today is one of those rainy days. One of the days, I wish I was out of prison, frolicking in a park somewhere. Maybe with a dog, chopper preferably - just running around.
I am sleepy all of the time. I dreamt I was in the back of a car that drove through the beach into the water. There was a huge wave. I was told to roll up my window. It didn’t roll up as fast as I hoped and some water came in. By the second wave I was used to the spillage. I also had two bottles of wine. I put them in my back pack, but had no corkscrew. I found one in the front seat and discarded one of the bottles. Bizarre I know, it just seemed so real. I guess that’s just how my mind works.
Last night after I finished the sad letter, I asked God to speak through me. It was after I read that book and I couldn’t sleep. Words just flooded my mind as though ten people were reading out loud. Ten separate books popped into my head all at once. Words popped into my head that I had never heard before. One right after another, it was making it hard for me to think. Like some sort of information. Am I going nuts? Either way, it was cool.
Call me crazy or just plain lonely.. Maybe sub-consciously, I was just making words up to entertain myself. Either way I woke up as though enlightened. My prayers work, almost immediately. I am very content with my solitude today.
This young chief named Maric wants to move in. I told him to put in the paperwork. I get along with him. I think maybe I can help him. He seems lost. Oh I asked God to give me a vision and I got one. I think I am supposed to help him. His name was written in spray paint in my dream last night. I woke up and realized it was his name. I saw him in the chow hall today. I called him RaY-Ray the way it was written in my dream. For some strange reason he gave me a hug. Ha! Maric was like “Why don’t you just give him a kiss?”
There’s nothing like breakfast at 5:30 pm. Do you remember having breakfast for dinner? Corn Fritters, pancakes, hash browns and sausage. I miss my childhood.
There’s some radio station that has a very eclectic selection of radio shows. I first listened to it during a reggae show. Right now they are playing like Indian Music. I wouldn’t mind having a zitar. Last night was some rockabilly show- tonight elephant music.
I used to love “world music” on television. That was my favorite station. I like bizarre uplifting sounds.
My hair is getting long. I can eat my hair if I chose to. I started a new ponytail fad on the run. Followers of the shaggy head. Oh its Indian Jazzy-classical Indian slide guitar or elephant music.
I want to teach life the way Jesse did- without him even knowing it. Our own little Buddha. In Hendi, the word for doing right no matter what the cost is “Satyagraha”. Jesse was a man of this Satyagraha. Even though he’s not with us in the physical sense, his guidance is not lost. I hear him… I know you do too. J
Christifer never hugged me the way that Jesse did. Chris’ were always so aggressive and weird like he was trying to be a man in some distorted way. Jesse on the other hand understood your emotion and how to comfort. I love him. Not to say that Chris is any less important to me. It’s just that Chris doesn’t write and Jesse would have.
I remember the first time I was released form Juvie. Jesse was there with you- waiting for me along side you. You both hugged me and it started to rain. The clouds were a weird purple – even though it was night. But – he won’t be there waiting for me standing next to you this time. You waiting for the prodigal son.
But the time will come when you will have to hug me twice- once fro you and once for my little brother. I love you Mama. And even though I shed tears when I write these things to you, I have to let it out. At least you know my sorrow.
There’s so much I regret- so fucking much! There’s always more good memories of him than regrets. I will forever refuse to let him die. He will go on through us- through your grandchildren and mine- He will surface again. Because we are all forever in eternity.
Your loving son,
Charlie
P.S. You deserve what you desire! You deserve what you desire! You deserve what you desire! You among all people deserve what you desire – what you want wants you!
You are on the right track. Don’t give up! I love you!
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