Inside perspectives
I was incarcerated for two years from October 2003 to November 2005. Following is a review of my October 12, 2013, journal entry:
I returned to CIM, a California prison in Chino—this time as a visitor. My buddy Marcus, whom I met at Ironwood State Prison, has been my pen pal since I left in November 2005.… Read the rest
My recent MRI stirred up memories of passing through a sally port (controlled entryway) and living in a prison cell. Magnetic resonance imaging, or MRI, is a system that uses magnetic fields and radio waves to take detailed images of the interior of the body. Lying on my back, noise-muffling ear gear in place, I was slowly inserted into a large tube after having been admonished not to move by the technician in charge.… Read the rest
I kept a journal in prison. Writing made me feel safe. I captured parts of days that interested me, humored me, or frightened me. The entries about fear reflected my feeling out of control when I expected a negative event. At times I witnessed the wheels of authority edge toward a potential race riot on the yard.… Read the rest
Prison time is boring. It feels like what I imagine death feels like—a void. Holidays, three-day weekends, and missed family events cause an empty desire all inmates must come to terms with in their own ways.
Each day feels like the one before. The program—daily routine—doesn’t change much. The creeping passing of time insults the mind like an electric shock—eventually the passage of time numbs the mind.… Read the rest