Well, it is 2012 now. I have read over the blog I wrote and I don't really want to keep up that anymore. I am not in it for the success of someone like the guy who blogs "isanybodyup?" So what am I doing. We shall see, soon I hope.

Sometimes you know, you get shown the light, in the strangest of places if you look at it right. (Garcia

It is now 2009 and I am about to graduate with a BA in Psychology. We are just back from spring break and almost done for the semester. This is my second try and I'm finally getting my degree.

From college screwup as a kid, to a worker bee for a capitalist, through a stage as a heroin addict, and then to prison and back again.

I no longer use heroin. But if I had not become an addict and landed myself in prison I never would have finished college.

My friend 'J' is back in jail on a parole violation. But while he was out we had become very good friends, with benefits.

The truth comes out

It wasn't just a prison thing, he is gay. He had boyfriends in prison but didn't acknowledge that they were boyfriends. Now he admits all. Almost all. All that time he spent being angry at me, for reasons he wasn't even sure of.

Now he again talks about going into business together. He talks the talk but doesn't walk the walk. This biz will never happen. He is too busy being gay.

WebNoel

The Da Vinci Code in Prison

In prison you hear that everything is a "conspiracy". I read the DaVinci Code only because everyone had started to talk about it as something somewhere between mystic revelation to hidden truths revealed. All of my fellow cons read it as fact. No matter how many times I told then to read the first page, which is a disclaimer, it was still fact. Jesus had taken the whore as his wife and it did not stop there. The ever-present Muslim influence continued the story - Jesus was never crucified but was swapped out and escaped death to live a long life in bountiful Egypt. This should not be called a blog but a blob, because if all the wild things said in prison were to be written down not all the blogs in the world could contain them - thus a blob, ever absorbing, ever growing but without definition.

Game Face

He be grillin' me when he sees me walkin down the corridor

Being white in an environment of Blacks and Hispanics - being a minority in a reverse otherworld- opened my eyes. I learned to understand a lot of non-verbal communication - facial expressions, exaggerated posturing. And a way of communication called game face,-- an attitude you want to project; the idea is to communicate indifference and aggression - "you stand back coz I don't give a fuck about you until you come up in my face and cross my boundaries and that's when I fuck you up".
But there is a problem with this subtle, expression - it can cost a Latino or Black (esp. an x-con) a job. It is read as disinterest to aggression.

This facial expression becomes to easy to adapt as a response to most input. I learned that the game face on the street - which is like an unbreakable barrier, can be approached. Many guys don't even realize they are using it, so you checl out other clues.

Grillin someone is deliberately grimacing - baring your teeth at someone you hate. I had a buddy in Artie's Place that grilled june coz he was jealous and thought me anfd June were going to become lovers. He told me all about how J and "L" were already involved ( not just he, d everyone else at Arthur Kill knew abouty that love affair and the story sometimes added on that I was fighting "L" for J). Poppycock. We were never lovers. In fact he told me about his secret life, a life which did not include me. This man, J is a sociopath, and came close to getting fucked up for lying - trying to impress the Latin Kings by saying he was associated with a big name in the Kings. But, luckily, a friend of mine - a King - reasoned that J is just a kid, trying to fit in, scared to death because he was so pretty. (yet at the same time using his good looks to cocktease guys) so my friend convinced the guys to leave him alone.

But he got a lot of grillin for a while.