The Prison Chronicles
The Pleasant Breakdown III

During these stages of heightened defenses, challenging everything and everyone, insomnia, where even four hours of sleep in a row is hard to come by because so much is on your mind and you're thinking about your plight and how to get out of it as quick as possible, denial of all that you know, extra loneliness and seclusion, depression and claustrophobic fear, we come to realize our sweet, sweet dreams, hopes, and aspirations. Because of the tremendous mountain that is now before us, the hardest and highest we've had to face in our life, makes all we know now impossible to attain, let alone still able to think about achieving any of it.

In the mind's eye, being in prison, it superficially places our thoughts of losing a thousand times of what it's in motion to where we would eventually give up, believe that there will never be an end to our incarceration. There is no motivation to believe otherwise and being to listen to others in prison about their opinions about our personal situation is or should be, having us grabbing onto any hope that we may hear or assume there is, believe is true, or anything to make us feel some level of comfort, even on a small scale, not knowing that these voices are meaningless.

What else do you do when there is no other hop in sight and you are feeling like a piece of shit?

Sometimes you have no choice but to listen to something that, even if it is not, sounds like something you need to hear. People go through great lengths to find their personal comfort and, in most cases, this bullshit level of comfort is just what the doctor ordered.

After all, we can never find comfort in ourselves under such extreme circumstances. It's not like we can go to the supermarket, pick up a half gallon of our favorite ice cream, curl up in a soft bed, watch our favorite show, and hope that when the show is over or when we wake up in the morning our plight has changed for the better and it was all a damn dream. But does that really ever happen?

If that were the case, there would be no worrying about getting locked up in the first place.

Still, there are those of us who do take up the holy face of defacing mockery of buffoon-laden acts, and thereby set up the stage for brown nosing, boot licking, and outright ass kissing. Like an overexcited cheerleader, with no clear direction. Then, in the end, we get kicked in the face by the very people we chose to kiss ass for and then tossed out like yesterday's trash.

The ugly side of brown nosing is there are some who willingly wait in the shadows like a vicious long toothed animal on the prowl of attack for others to even take a slight stumble. Some are bold enough to cause the stumble themselves, to ensure that they have a place in the ass kissing department when it happens. Call themselves being able to do a better job than the previous purveyor with no benefits at all, except a sneer and head shake of disgust from other inmates and a head nod of agreement from the individual he kisses ass for.

The true benefit will be that of a dirt level servant because you've allowed yourself to fall so far down and allowed your mind to be controlled by another person who does not care one bit about your soul. And you did this all because you could not cope with your reality.

You have allowed others to walk over you like a throwaway rug.

This, when the mortality of all individuals in prison is dangerously low as it is. There is not one single individual in prison today, nor in the past for that matter, who lives up to his full potential and does not fully experience life to its fullest. If anyone tells you that they do or have, they have simply lied to your face and they're a complete moral liar.