Saturday, 30 March 2013

Interesting reading

On that day We will fold the heaven, like the folding of a book. Just as We initiated the first creation, We will revert it. This is our promise. We will certainly fulfill it. (21:104)

"Experts versed in astrophysics will take cognizance of the magnificence of this verse. We know today that the universe is expanding. We also know that this expansion is the consequence of the acceleration generated by the Big Bang. We are faced with two alternatives here. According to one of them, the expanding universe will spread out to a vast expanse, all the stars will have exhausted their energies, the temperature will fall and thus the end will be reached. Following the exhaustion of the energy of the stars and the coming to a standstill of all actions, all celestial bodies will break apart and escape from gravitational force. This is called the "Open Universe Model". According to a second alternative, the expanding universe will stop because of the mutual attraction of all bodies and the universe will contract to return to its primordial state.

The collapse of the universe is referred to as the "Closed Universe Model". The power to realize this folding up is gravity. As we know, all matter is in mutual attraction. When something is thrown into the air, the object thrown cannot help falling back after some time because of gravity; matter that has scattered in every possible direction in space following the Big Bang will retrace its steps in a given time to be folded up. We must remember that at the time of the descent of the Quran the notion of gravity did not exist and that it was to be known some one thousand years later thanks to Newton's discovery.

Once the expansion of the universe was established, scientists began to study whether the universe would continue to expand or come to a close by folding up. To this end they tried to find out the critical density of matter in the universe and arrived at certain ratios they called "Omega". if the density in the universe is at a certain level, the process of folding up will begin before the scattering of matter into infinity.

Humans are born, live and die and eventually return to the dust of which they were made. The same thing holds true for beast and plants. It appears that the law that governs all living creatures is also applicable in the case of the universe."
- Unknown Author

Tuesday, 26 March 2013

Timothy has moved to a new address.

P.O. BOX 329002

Saturday, 16 March 2013

It's cold as a mu'fucker

Opposite a tall courthouse building in Lower Manhattan..

On a dark and cold March Sunday..

Sat a big concrete building that, to a lot of New Yorkers,
holds no specific signifance and for most of them is an unknown
government building likely filled with offices and suits..

I can assure you that it is not.


High up above the slick pavement..

Deep inside this very old concrete and steel tomb,
in between a mass of thick brick walls and broken pipes,
laying on a dusty half-opened mattress that's been shat and pissed
on by thousands upon thousands of people over it's lifetime,
with one scrawny eye fixated on the door, one leatherish hand
cupping a freshly-shaven pair of Turkish balls and a constant stream
of Aspartame infused thoughts and ideas sprawling across his brain..

What's good.

I'm trying to relax but no amount of controlled belly-breathing or meditation techniques
is doing the trick..

It's a little bit more than your average everyday
prison fuckrie that's passing through my fried brain tonight..

There's actually thirty months worth of mental notes scrawling
across my conscience, each one trying to shout louder than the next
to get my attention and assert that THEY are the most important fact
that i need to remember for tomorrow..

If this wasn't bad enough, each time i hear the jangle of keys or footsteps,
despite it being about three in the morning, i come to the very logical conclusion
that the guard is coming to tell me to get ready for court and in due process,
shoot a thin stream of liquid shit into my already soiled draws..

I mean..

I COULD act like Billy Big Bollocks.

In fact sometimes i have to..

Today is a little different though as I'm about to get sentenced and considering,
mostly in legal terms but on isolated occasions quite literally, i have been repeatedly
uppercutted in the balls for the last two and a half years of my life..

I'm a little bit worried about what is going to happen.

I'm trying to prepare myself.

I'm also trying to be realistic..

Should i be jumping for joy at the thought of walking into a courtroom filled with
white light and trombones, sounding the end of my struggle with the US. Federal system,
the beginning of common sense and morality and the end of my incarceration?

Or should i start greasing up my pink hairy asshole to prepare it for
the next chapter in the Grand Theft Anal series this time staring a
big fucking corporate donkey dick?

What would you have done?

Thankfully for me i had afternoon court..

ALWAYS better..

In all of my years roaming the earth i have found that there is nothing more
draining then being woke up at six in the morning to be strip searched and
shoved onto a concrete bench, among men that think it's ok to eat 'macarella'
for breakfast and not even fucking OWN a toothbrush, which in turn surrounds
you in a cloud of the nastiest fucking morning breath that's belched out by fifty
something year old clowns that stink of pure shit.

Not cool.

I do not enjoy having to hold my mouth and nostrils first
thing in the morning to stop coffee mixed with stomach
bile and pieces of apple skin from spewing out onto some
next man that probably will wanna shake with me if i do so..

Plus you ain't going nowhere!!

Not for about at LEAST seven hours!!

Shit is crazy!!

REGARDLESS of what time you have court..

You just sit there shifting from one position to the next,
taking it in turns to send each body part to sleep one by one,
at some point you WILL try to pull your shirt over your head
to get some sleep but than in an hour or so you WILL get
EXTREMELY annoyed at not being able to sleep and give up
with the most dramatic 'HMPH' you can muster..

Or at least that's what i do..

Perhaps there's some good point that I'm missing?


They give you an orange and a carton of milk
at some point but what do you think eating an orange
and a carton of milk at the same time does to you?

At least in afternoon court you get to disco for a bit before going down,
make a nice cup of coffee, shit out whatever you ate in the morning,
take a nice relaxing shower, check your emails, speak to your friends,
at least doing all that shit puts you in a bit of a better mood and just
think if you had to be shackled and frog-marched into a bull-pen full of
goons and goblins..

When would you rather go?

As i had it in the afternoon i got the chance to have about a billion
well wishes tell me that I'm 'definitely 100 per cent fact going home'
which was encouraging to hear, even from staff members who seem
to have taken a liking to me and genuinely wanted to see me be able to
start my life again..

It definitely put me in a very positive mood that lasted..


About an hour before i went into court?

I heard this song on the radio before getting ready to go down
so anytime i started to feel a little nervous or like i was about to
go and get fucking slayed I'd replay it in my head and it would put
me in a bit of a better mood..

Despite complete opposite sets of moral codes and principles
i had hoped that as today is such a significant day for ONE of us
that they could be put to the side.

That in my hour of need i might be shown a little bit of compassion..

That a job might actually be done..


But like so many other instances in life..

I still expect too much from people..


As i slowly shuffled my feet into the court room the main
things going through my mind was how fucking cold it was
and the view out the windows..

BIG ass-fucking windows..

To anyone who may have been there on that day
who saw me sitting there rubbing my hands together shivering,
i should point out that it was due to the COLD and not due to me
being incredibly prang!!


Even if i knew..

I wouldn't be able tell you how high up i was or what floor i was on..

But TRUST me..

The view was fucking crazy!!

A big-ass white sky lined with all the types of buildings and bridges
that would make a mother-fucker fly from South London to New York City..

THAT'S what i saw..

Reminded me EXACTLY why i got on that plane in the first place..

Was a little sad to look down though,
eyeballing my blue dirty slip-on negotiator shoes,
the rolling up bottoms of my court-issued clothes
and seeing all the people sitting in the court room
all there to witness me getting sentenced to an
asshole full of time.

If i hadn't said it before..

I'll say it now.

This is not what i came to the United States for..

I'm sure most of the people in the arena/courtroom who were there
to witness what was about to happen where wondering why i had my
head turned at such a stupid angle and was staring out the window
like that..

Maybe they thought i was gonna do a running jump out the motherfucker..

I didn't expect them to understand.

I don't blame them..

Looking out that big-ass window at the city was just another day
in the office for them and something they see every day of their lives.

Me on the other day..

I don't get to see jack SHIT..


Well that's not quite true..

I get to see lots of brown jumpsuits, horrific knife wounds to the face,
less-than mediocre females who are purely gassed-up from being around
thirst-Mgirst dudes all fucking day long..

I see white walls with boogers hanging off them, shitty toilet seats,
pimples, rashes, mice, water bugs, trays of pure slop, dandruff..

I also got to see the front of the courthouse on Pearl Street.

For many..many years..

My mother gave me some advice early on into my incarceration
when i was having a lot of difficult adjusting to life and how it
had panned out for me.

Despite what was clearly in my face and even more clear for
everyone around me to see, i wasn't seeing, or believing,
much of my energy was spent fighting and trying to prove
that everyone else was wrong and that i was right..

Sometime's it is hard to give up that fight, especially when you don't like
what life is showing you, it's hard to admit defeat and accept a reality that
is not what you had hoped it would be but in the long run, the sooner you do,
the easier it will be to move on with your life..

I really tried my best.

That's all that counts in the bigger picture..

I played my hand.

Of course it's disappointing that after all the effort and energy
i have put in over the past 30 months fighting my case and trying
to be held responsible for my actions and not the actions of other
individuals who have escaped prosecution..

This has been the United States of America Vs. Timothy Guvercin.

How did you think it was going to end..

This Monday in Federal Court i was sentenced to fifty months incarceration
with restitution of two hundred and sixty thousand dollars plus a million dollar fine..

I am now sitting in Brooklyn's MDC prison and have been here since Thursday and
for the time being i am in the medical facility awaiting transition into general population.

When my security assessment has been completed i will be designated to a final prison to
finish the remaining time i have left which with good behavior is just over a year..

How do you THINK i feel about it..

How the FUCK..

how the fuck would YOU feel!?


Monday, 11 March 2013

March 11th 2013

In September of 2010 i was arrested by the Secret Service in Brooklyn,
since then i have been held in the pre-trial Metropolitan Correctional Center
in New York City.

A couple of months after my arrest i was asked to put together a piece of writing
for a freinds University course. I wrote a couple of pages describing how i was arrested
and brought into this building and without much thought sent it to a close friend of mine
who lived in South London.

People seemed to enjoy it so over the following months i started to write some more,
talking about what i got up to in New York City and also what was happening to me in prison
and how i was dealing with being incarcerated in a foreign country. My friend then took the
text i sent her along with some music and photos from my time in the street and put it all
together in the format of a blog.

What initially started as a fried young man venting his frustrations into a jailhouse computer
turned into an opportunity to question how my life had got me here and most importantly
how to do better in the future.

During this time i have been humbled by the amount of people who have contacted
me from different countries offering their support. I am truly grateful for everything that
people have done to help me through this difficult period of my life and it is important
that you know just how much i appreciate people reaching out to me..

Hopefully i can do a much better job of explaining exactly how much
it's meant to me in person one day instead of just as text on a screen..

"..Whatever happens you're gonna be good're gonna be good..."

"..Cos' guess what dog? There ain't no alternative.."

Sunday, 10 March 2013

essolu essek

It's a little after midnight and i just brushed
my teeth and turned the light out.

Finding it a little difficult to sleep tonight.

I'm not tired..

Sat cross legged on an ever-more uneven slab of dust/dead skin..

My last piece of crumpled paper resting on top of a black book..

I'm trying my best to take my mind off things.


I can't see out the window..

For the last few nights i've had a really bad cough,
so to stop it from getting worse, there's a piece of cardboard
wedged over the vent to stop the cold air from coming in,
because of this the whole window is steamed up..

I remember when i had a visitor outside once i had to
frantically poke fingers through the gaps in the metal grating
to wipe it clean with a tissue so i could see them, it worked,
but only for about five minutes as my bunkie got some hot-ass
breath and he was looking out the window too..

I'm too tired for that shit right now anyway.

A couple of mangled Turkish finger tips rubbing on a matchbox sized piece of glass will do,
i can just about see outside and, unsurprisingly, there ain't much poppin' outside a jail in the
middle of Manhattan at one in the morning..

Sitting cross-legged in a pitch black room, staring out a tiny piece of window
into an empty street, in jail, isn't the funniest of things to do either and I'm beginning
to feel pretty crappy and prang out about my sentencing, so i should probably knock this
on the head soon and try to get some kip..

Having one eye open really wide next to a cold window is giving me a headache too..

I keep on thinking about my sentencing and what's going to happen afterwards.

Where I'm going to go..

How long i might get..

What will the worst case scenario be..


Considering it's unlikely that I'm going to get any new information
on my plight at one in the morning i know it doesn't make much sense
sitting here in the dark pranging out..

But shit.

It's almost time to go!!

Thirty fucking months..

It's absolutely ridiculous when i think about it..

Still I'm not getting sentenced in the next couple of hours so i think
it's best for everyone concerned, which would be me,

If i just try to lay down and think about some good things
that might help me get some sleep..

I think tomorrow morning I'm going to give my dad a call.

It costs a lot but i like speaking to him now and then over the phone,
emails are nice but it's not as good as hearing someone's voice and seeing
that they're ok..

I try to remind myself of that pretty often.

As long as my family are ok I'm be just fine..

Saturday, 9 March 2013

Early morning gutterals

 The coffee detox is over.

A Russian/Estonian gave me half a cup this morning,
that turned into me ticking a couple scoops from a Canadian this afternoon for the roof,
finalizing in me being given 40% of a bag by a forever-grinning guy from Harlem this evening,
it is not almost one in the morning and i am sat up cross-legged, wide awake, burning through
page after page of crappy unoriginal lettering that is, if I'm honest, a poor mans mixture of the
styles of Nakz (Germany)/Suede/Peno/Hoover but done with very little finesse and skill..

It's helping me pass the time though.

In the background..

Some Turkish guy is shredding the hell out of an acoustic guitar..

It reminds me of being with my parents in Turkey,they have all these dope little restaurants dotted around the centre of town
were we would go out to eat on the cheap, they bring you fresh pita bread to
your table with all this locally made butter and dips, i listen to this radio show
every Thursday that plays Middle Eastern music and it always makes me think
of being back in Turkey and all the good stuff they have out there.

The only other thing on the radio right now..

I'm really not in the mood for right now..

All in all I've got about four pages banged out in front of me.

More or less the same outline plastered again and again with little variations on it,
a few extra little sticks with claws poking out the sides, some big diamond highlights floating around,
little pieces breaking off or some looking like they're covered in Sludge, to cut a long story short,
the same bullshit slightly tweaked to give the appearance that I've drawn something new and not the
exact outline with a different gimmick or effect thrown in.


I'm a little stuck at the moment as far as sketching goes,
i don't have access to any colored pens or pencils and I'm DAMN sure not asking
any of the MUGS that do have them if i can borrow them as they'll just lie or say no,
I'd really like to just start sketching with colors and no outline at all on some real kiddie
drawing type shit but i can't really do that as I'd like right now so it's back to the regurgitations..

I did actually knock out one of them BIG ass sketches earlier.

Them one's with the ultra thick outlines that take about a thousand years..

I was given the instructions of writing the name Marissa for my friend Green but i didn't
like the idea of that and the name was too long so just wrote HIS name instead,
he also specifically asked for it to be girly and have lots of hearts flying around but i didn't
like the idea of that either so just draw it all in thick black ink and made it look very
aggressive instead with no hearts and colored all the letters in with thick black patterns..

Safe to say he didn't like it.

It's ok though..

At least i got to sit down and put some effort into sketching something
I'll probably end up sending it out next week if i can get hold of some stamps.

If you wrote to me recently im'a send you one of those crappy sketches too?

How about that?


Friday, 8 March 2013

There's no excuse not to spray.

My body has been telling me i need some proper rest
for a few days now, I've been waking up feeling sore all over
and getting very tired randomly during the day, plus up until
he got fired my bunkie was working in the kitchen so i was
having to get up at seven everyday ANYway..

But today?

It's my day of rest..

I Called it a night way before midnight yesterday
with the sole intentions of getting a decent amount
of kip today so my body can repair itself..

As always i woke up like clockwork,
moments before the door opened for chow this morning,
but i got some good news that meant i didn't have to get
up and grab two bowls of shitty cereal and grapefruit..

"Lay the FUCK down..gump!!"

That was nice of him..

A lot of my dreams are very similar..

I'm usually outside in most of my dreams but
there is always SOME kind of prison reference to it,
whether it's people from the jail, parts of the jail,
or just day to day jailhouse bullshit that i do in here..

Often I'll be in conversation with people in my dreams
and they'll ask me questions about being in prison.

A lot of the time people are telling me in the dream
that it's all over and my time in jail is finished too..

Then again in a lot of my dreams I'm running around asking
people whether it's all over and don't actually believe anyone
when they tell me, or like the majority of my dreams, they don't
answer me whatsoever an just look at me with a blank expression
on their face.

Or they just smile..

English sarcasm?


"YO DOG i gotta dunk"


It's too early..

I don't want to get out of bed,
each time this happens i just sit on the tier waking up
and can't get back to sleep after he's finished shitting as
the whole place stinks of baby shit..

"Just shit"

He doesn't always wake me up when he needs to shit,
so my guess is that he actually was planning on beating his meat
to the magazine some dude upstairs lent him yesterday..

Telling him to just go ahead and shit basically
called his bluff as he ain't gonna wack off with me in the cell.

So now despite him not actually needed or planning on shitting,
he's going to shit on me anyway and dunk just to save face and try
make out that he WASN'T going to be beating his meat in here at
nine in the fucking morning..

I'm so tired i don't care.

I got a thick blanket wrapped around my face anyway..

Cuts out most of the stinks and sounds coming from his direction..

I'm too tired..

I need rest..

Thursday, 7 March 2013


Tuesday night..

My bunkie is making salut below..

It's been a pretty good day today..

I been getting my weight up this year
and in due course my chest and wings have
got a lot bigger.

The working out is easy for me but the fucking
dieting is what fucks me up!!

Our allocated food is BEYOND poor..

Mostly rice and beans..

I mean it's GOOD if you enjoy shitting on your bunkie
and farting dead in his face when he bends down to
get in his locker, but overall, very bad if you're trying
to get cut up on the workout tip..

I can't afford to buy pure tuna's from the store as it's mad expensive
and it'd be a good guess that surviving off nothing but cereal and apples
isn't going to be a wise move for me either no?

I been RINSING bagels recently too!!

What started off as a once a week treat has now
become a daily affair.

Before my bunkie got fired he was working in the kitchen
so we would have a few extra each day but now they're just
giving them away every morning so there's shitloads of them
about the place..


Two bagels a day cannot be a good thing right?

I got one in my bucket..

It's calling me..

Fuck that i know it's no good for me..

Eating a bagel at midnight.

Very stupid.

Im'a fuck with some cereal and warm milk instead..

Just gotta make sure i got enough toilet paper first incase things get braizy..

Tuesday, 5 March 2013

His coffee smells really good

I have on a new dark brown t-shirt.

I've rolled the sleeves up on it and had it folded,
stuffed under my mattress the last couple of days,
gives the impression it has been ironed..

I have on a pair of white socks that are pulled upto my knees an
they got a whole in the left one and i can see my big toe poking through..

My XXXL sweatpants are rolled up to my knees too,
i look like some kind of albino ninja sitting crossed legged on my bed,
just got out the shower too so I'm shaved and got gel in my hair..

What did you get up to today?

Was your day any good?

What did you have for breakfast?

How was your trip to work?

How did you get there?

Did you cook yourself some dinner?

What did you make?

Is there anything you're looking forward to?

What do you have planned for tomorrow?

What you doing for lunch?

Why not treat yourself to something nice.

Treat yourself..

I'm sure some good things happened to you today?

Sunday, 3 March 2013

He was beatin' himself in the face with two dogs

The brown towel draped over the rectangular plastic-covered light
has the whole room dimly lit, my right arm, covered in Turkish hair
and tattoos, has a golden bean of light shining on it and i can't help
but noticed how my hands look..

Apart from a bulging green vain that zig zags across the back of my palm,
i can see little patterns of triangles deeply engraved into the skin on my knuckles,
my best guess is this shit came about from them dumb-ass push ups i used to do
on my fists..

I don't do them anymore.

My hands would shake too much afterwards..

Even NOW, when i turn my wrists,
they shudder and jolt like an old rusty robot,

so yeah,

I don't do them anymore..

Next to the light is an ornament my bunkie had made from a piece of string
and all these little cubes made from old pieces of magazine.

He got this Chinese dude to make it.

The dude is kind of portly..

He makes these little origami birds and leaves
them on tables.

The dude tries to copy me when he sees me doing pull ups too,
it's pretty funny, except he can only do one and pulls that one off by
sticking his tongue out, turning red and kicking his legs like a frog..

He's a good dude though.

I remember a while back when we had sausages for chow
an he fuckin' PLAYED himself..

It's not a good look chowing down on a big piece of meat in jail.


To combat this dudes be chopping their dogs up or eating them
on a next discreet tip, not taking their time with them, not looking like
they're enjoying eating them, none of that shit..

You CERTAINLY don't want to make out that you're fiending over
having a piece of meat in your mouth..

Anytime they give out dogs, dudes get CLOWNED if they're seen
going up for seconds or taking someone else's tray, more often than not
dudes be hiding dogs in motherfuckers cells, putting them on their pillows,
in their pairs of draws, all kinds of sucker shit, in their shoes..

So anyway..

They call LAST CALL meaning last chance to get some food
and we see the Chinese man dem coming back from the line,
smiling ear to ear, with a plastic bag bursting at the seams
full of these ultra hench donkey-dick sausages!!

Dude went on SUPER bate!!

Wanna know something crazy?

He wasn't the only one..

I seen at least three dudes double fisting them joints,
walking around with a sausage in each hand, NO bread,
fuckin' PLAYIN' themselves..

FUCK that..

Friday, 1 March 2013

"I kick all the asses"

Some new guy from Russia told me the other day that
i am in "perfect condition" but "the eyes look depressing"

I was smiling at the time..