Run and Hide.

As you can see, the enclosed blog post has been around far awhile. It has been typed and ready to go for more than a month, and was waiting for the rest of the thought to finish it off.

I have done little so far this year but run and hide. I am having a hard time emotionally, but am not wasting time just whining about it. True, running from a problem does not lead to solving anything, but on the other hand neither does whining.

My basic time fillers have been reading, 15 books since January l; running up the hill to the chapel, usually two to three times a day, four or five days a week; and last but not least, countless hours mopping, waxing and buffing floors.

I have not heard from my brother, and at this point it seems fairly clear that he will not be writing to me at all. I have also lost all hope that any of my worldly possessions, tools, clothes, etc. will be available to me when I get out. It would appear to me that all I have to look forward to upon my release is what I take with me from here.

As far as human contact goes at this point it is down to Abby and you. I guess this is as low as I can get so I better start the rebuilding phase soon! I have plenty to say, I need to let it all out and see what develops.

I am wondering if the blog is really the place to write the true inside prison story. Oh yes, plenty of mano on mano sex, gambling away all my money, beating up on the weaker ones here, etc. Kidding.

Maybe we could go the taxpayer report route. How about how all the overweight staff members continue to belly up to the inmate food bar and stuff themselves at taxpayer expense? Okay just a little bitterness.

I just caught a line in the NY Post about Amy Fisher raising money for Haiti by going nude at some Long Island strip club or something. Apparently this mother of three and product of NY State Department of Corrections is embarking on a cross county strip club trip to promote her personal porn web site. I did read her memoir of her time in the system that includes at least two or three rapes from prison guards. One strange thing in my own life is for some reason I continue to receive the NY Times. I am not sure if perhaps my brother has just not figured out yet that it is going on Mom's charge card or what.