Personal Journal

4/9/18
I don't know what I'm going to write anymore. I've even contemplated on stopping altogether, as what I'm writing seems to be no more than dribble now that no one reads or has the time comment on. If I had some other way of releasing my feelings, maybe I would stop or slow down to where I made sense. :)

But right now, I have no family or friends who give a shit. Everyone is saying that I'm always mad that they never see me smile. I'm trying to change that now, but I don't know how. I'm afraid to take to anyone here. I've always known that I was never going to get out of prison, that I am going to die in a prison bed somewhere, someday, and I've never let that bother me. But spending my last years along, dying alone, it rips me inside.

Ten or twelve years ago, I was never mad for long. I just let things go. people used to ask me why I was always smiling because I kept a smile. I said this is the life I've made for myself, enjoy it, but I had family and friends then. after my brother Tim and my mother passed, I was alright. But after my brother James and my aunt Alice passed, everyone else disappeared. It is hard to get up in the morning when you know that today will only be a repeat of all the days that have come before, and there is no one you can trust with your feelings, no one you can talk to, no one to cry with me.

I'm going to stop for now and drag Jimmy out of bed, point him in the right direction. Maybe put my foot in his ass to get him moving. He's just like most teenagers when it comes to getting out of bed in the morning. :)

George said that forever is two in a million.

The depression gets bad sometimes. I fight it every day, but there are too many days filled with sadness, too much inactivity causing difficulty in my doing anything. I'm forcing myself out of bed in the mornings almost every day now. I'm trying to force myself to paint but can't seem to draw a line. Jimmy won't let me lay down and sleep all the time, so that's a good thing. I'm usually able to get past this in a few days, but for some reason, it's hanging on this time. Today's the day I find something to laugh at, even to get mad about would be a change.

At least I got up early today.

I can do nothing to change the past, but I want to become a new person every day, and I do try, but at the end of the day, it's only time sitting there in the back of the cell, doing my time alone time. Happiness is an inside job. Depending upon nothing, you must find your own.

I got up four times during the night to pee. Then I couldn't sleep because of anxiety. They said the presdnisore can cause this, along with my content change of moons. :) I'm still going to take it until it runs out, it's only for 30 days and it has taken most of the pain away. They took eight x-rays of my hands and another blood test this week. The feet next, then the knee and shoulders. I should be glowing when this is all done.

I've been doing a painting of the Skyview Drive. I'm on 47th Ave. in Sac. I have to hurry it up or set it aside to do a black and white painting of an Ansel Adams print of the New Church in New Mexico. I can't use the pain in my hands as an excuse right now.

I keep telling myself I'm not going to keep this journal anymore, but I will as I have nothing else to do and no one to tell to except me.

From my bookmarks: "The cure for anything is the sea. Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning to dance in the rain." :) Depending on nothing, you must find your own ways.

I'm going to miss this kid when he goes home at the end of the summer. As dumb as he is, he could have been mine and I find myself worrying about his future. He has no one there to help him, to push him, but then I had people there then to help me. It didn't do any good. Teenagers. :)

It has been drizzling all week. Dark and cold. I wouldn't have it any other way. Believe me when I say we din't come all this distance, make all this great effort, only to miss the party at the last minute. I know that if I hang in there long enough, someday someone will show up, if only to say goodbye. A billion times, a billion years.

4/18/18
Wed.

Night light went out last night before last. Now when you turn it on, it's like a strobe light, and when it comes on, it makes my celly, little Jimmy Wong, want to dance. :) They put us on lockdown Monday morning. They said for the week so the guards can all go over to another yard on a search, steal and destroy mission, so the light won't get fixed until next week, maybe.

Change of attitude, make more noise than anyone else become more ostensible. Maybe someone will see you. I hear that depression can cause dementia. Maybe that's why I'm always forgetting people's names. No, I'm pretty sure it's just because I don't like them. We have to learn to accept the fact that life is just one damned thing after another, and we must decide to be happy in between. I know I love the bittersweet tests/feelings of nostalgia. It has a positive function, improving moon, and possibly mental health (not that there's anything wrong with being crazy). :)

Note: this sepia-toned sentiment does not cement me in the past, but actually raises my spirit and virility.

It's Monday morning and the sun is coming up. It looks nice outside. Just another day in my prison. Where or where have all the years gone. I want to be somewhere else, at least in my dreams, but my brain only remembers prison, and no matter where I'm at in a dream, it's always within a prison evening with me sailing on an ocean.

Is there anyone out there who does read this? Can anyone leave a message so I know I'm not alone in this world of mine?

4/24/18