Blog #1
Dated

To continue from the intro... despite currently being socially, psychologically and a touch of physically tormented in Winsconsin's stupor max prision, I try my best to have fun. I'm not a masochist, nor am I ignorant of this reality - just the opposite! The prision system wants me to be miserable, which is usually, merely a state of mind, a miserable one.
What sense would it make for me to choose to be miserable, for any reason?
Don't get me wrong. For the last week, I've felt miserable in the extreme. Headaches, nausea, feeling about to faint, junpy - dealing with harsh realizations from my past, and facing a bleak future.
A book sent to me by the great people at www.prisionbookprogram.org brought this on. Hopefully facing painful truths helps to ease the pain? Well, we must do so to improve our truths.
Some philosopher, or famous person said that people are unhappy until they find someone who's more miserable than themselves. If so, although I assure you, I will be absurdly happy within a few days, I also assure you, dear reader, that my blog will give you cause galore to cheer up!
Anyone with a truly horrible existence, please tell me aaaall about it, so I can realize how good I've got it! Embelish!
I wrote a short poem that wxpresses my philosophy, "We Should Intend More Puns" accepted by Hummingbird. If ya wanna see it, cough up 5 bucks and send it to Phylis Walsh, Editor, Hummingbird, Harbour Village, Apt. D103, 5600 Mockingbird Lane, Greendale, WI 53129, ph (414) 421 2335. I regularly submit and am published in Hummingbird.
It is one way I make myself happy, knowing that I can be appreciated, do nice things, not be what I used to believe I was doomed to be.
In this way, writing has been something that helped drastically change my life, which is ironic, because I once despised it as effeminate.
Writing my thoughts makes it easier to examine their validity and where they'll take me.

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Well, I just returned from outside rec. It was overcastout, but the moisture thick cool air was scented with, I believe, lilacs - one of my favorite flowers and scents, ragged, yet sweet. I watched a robin tweeting for a mate, watched two sparrows looking for just the right nook in our rec. kennels to build a nest, and saw a vulture or hawk surfing on thermals. I talked to no one out there - they were all set in their deathstyles, gangs, drugs, playing their homies for their own gain... the usual.

Check out this poem folks, and rest assured, more cheerful and insightful blogs are comming!

On one side glare inmates:
Hearless, Born or made.
On the other side, snear calloused prisioncrats:
People paid to break.
Lacking family
and intimates
I'm easy prey.
So they come in colose and squeeze.
Their wrath's magnified
cause I'vedeclined
to be a pawn in eitherside's game.
Both intend the same:
Other[s degradation.
Circling the periphery
Is the fat almighty serpent.
Society,
Ignoring its round.
Surrounded by hate filled goons
At every degree
I feel a fool
for being
stuck in the middle with who?!
Created 5-11-11
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(Inside the square next to the poem, it reads):
Readers, I suspect that many prision blogs are dreary. Mu apologies for starting off on such a note. However, even this morbid poem has a message and shows I'm seeking solutions, Can you see it?
Keep this in mind. My writing always contains multiple and intertwined messages, which you must dig deep to fully grasp.
Next blog, I'll explain this poem.
Love & REspects
Nate.