Friday, 31 May 2013

M-M-M-M-M

I think I'm coming down with something..


Since i woke up my nose has been mad cold.

I put our make-shift clock over the vent to stop all the air coming out but i still feel like I'm hanging out my fucking asshole..

My throat is real..

All my joints hurt when i try to stretch..

It's to the point where i didn't join my bunkie earlier to workout which is UNHEARD OF as it's ALWAYS some next macho competitive bullshit in here and i never miss an opportunity to workout..

Which says a lot about how I'm feeling right now!!

I DID try to make a couple'a moves so things might improve, just before the copper screamed recall i went an made a hench bowl of toast, which might not SOUND like a lot but when you bare in mind the last prison i was in didn't even HAVE a toaster..

I haven't actually eaten toast in years two and a half years!!

So for me peanut butter on toast with a cup of tea is quite a special occasion..


Playing football last night didn't help the situation..

On a good friends advice i decided to rock my new sneakers out to the rec yard, my old one's been giving me the asshole an a shitload of blisters on toes on my right foot.

But the NEW one just turned the entire base of both feet into two insanely hench blisters instead..

:/

Thanks to some kind friends and family members who treated me  with a little somethin' somethin' I've had new sneakers for about a month  and a half now but would only rock them after a shower when I'm wearing  clean clothes.

I saving them..

Only to be worn for flossing..

NOT to be mashed up playing football/working out..


Paying a lot of attention to my appearance in here helps me stay positive.

I feel good when i think i look nice..

Even if it's just putting on some clean clothes that fit me, shaving my neck and cheeks (on my face you fucking tramp) and putting some gel in my hair..

It's nice to have some pride in my appearance!!

Even if I'm the only one that notices..

It's INCREDIBLY rare for me to successfully get a visit, the super mega BUMS I'm surrounded by in here certainly do not contribute to my self esteem whatsoever and the other individuals that are in here..


I couldn't give a toss about..


I remember this one guy in MCC..

Dude was a fucking BEAST, had spent the last five years getting in INSANELY good shape while on remand for some murder an mayhem shit that I'm STILL too prang to talk about on here..


He explained to me that the key to doing time is making sure you preserve yourself physically and mentally while you are in here..

Remember that you have a goal..

It'll reach you eventually whether you sit around and eat cake all day or put the time to good use working on yourself..


I also remember what my first bunkie told me..

Right around the time i was sitting in the cell all day, in the dark, wearing an XXXL wripped up jumpsuit with shower shoes DESPITE the fact that i had been SPECIFICALLY warned not to do this incase someone attacks me in the jail..

My hair had reached my eyebrows at the front and was starting to curl at the back, i was scootching my feet around on the floor..

Only leaving my cell to go get hot water, check the computer for confirmation that i STILL had no emails or any bloody money in my account, murmuring a soft-spoken overly-polite whimper to anyone daring enough to engage me in conversation..


"This silly n****r here.."

:/

"You remember when Vito Corleone bitch'slap that silly n****r at the begginin' of Godfather?"

Nope.

"He said to that n****r WA'S DA MADDA WID YOU!! PULL YO'SELF TOGEDDA!!"

Nope.

"Someone need t'slap YOU like that"

:(


I am now blessed to be cell mates with a good Muslim brother who not only is the Imam of the prison but is our unit's jailhouse barber.


He's never formally trained at cutting hair but according to him he has had a full grown beard since he was ten years old..


He's very good..

Apart from when i first came into MDC Brooklyn on the medical unit and was bunkies with a very nice guy called C**** who had been sentenced to twelve years for growing weed, when he had agreed to a sentence of seven, i have been the 'M-m-m-m-Maybach Muslim's bunkie for the last two months and counting.

He should be home VERY soon (insallah) but while he is still cooped up in this dump, every three days we have a routine of just before we lock in for the evening, one of us goes to get a couple of new disposable razors, the other makes sure we got to big cups of boiling hot water..

Then we go lock in..

After an hour we make some coffee, i put some music on my radio and he gives me a cutthroat shave and a shape up..


It's pretty cool..



I have to pick up all the sweaty clothes left on the two blue chairs by the door, wipe the chairs down, place one on top of the other as THEY are not very tall and I'm tall ENOUGH thank you very much..

Erm..

Then put some ice cold water on my face, neck and on the back of my head..

Perched on the tip of my dome are my headphones, i put some kind of agreeable music on that is not going to bother my brother as i am not only aware that our music tastes are quite different but it's pretty evident that the Imam is not going to be a fan of Deicide either..


Whatever i find that he doesn't mind too much, i turn it up as loud as it my shitty headphones can manage, casually sip on some coffee and relax while he gets his bits and bobs together..


After he chastises me as i shaved my own face to days ago and did not wait for him to shape it up, he picks up the razor in his right hand and using his little finger for stabilization..

"You should probably tell them how to get the blade out of the razor"

Ok then..


-Place the disposable orange razor face down on a flat surface.

-With one hand hold onto the handle applying slight downward pressure, insuring that the head of the razor is flat on the surface.

-At the rear of the head you will notice in the middle a 'trapezoidal' figure attaching the handle to the head of the disposable razor.

-To the right and left of this support you will notice two protruding plastic pegs on either side.

-Using a toenail clipper, clip off the protruding plastic surrounding these pegs, which will allow you easy access to snip off the plastic pegs that are holding the disposable razor's head together.

-After snipping off all four pegs, use the top metal bit of the fingernail clipper and wedge it between the plastic front guard of the razor and the head.

-Turn the fingernail clipper in a counter clockwise motion and this SHOULD successfully pop off the front of the razor so you can extract the internal blade that, as long as it has not been used, be sharp enough to cut a Turkish beard."


We start this whole thing at about midnight..

No need to rush..

We sip coffee..

Talk about all the stupid things that happened in the past twenty four hours..

Exchange stories from our time incarcerated..


"Tim dog you know why we are not supposed to have spray bottles in the cell?"

I do not.

"Incase someone fills it up with urine or feces and decides to go spray the cee-oh with it."


Don't get me wrong..

I'm not a fool nor do i deem my life or my bunkies lives as being well spent sitting in this or ANY prison.

Neither of us are under any kind of delusion that this is ok and that we should be in here, neither of us have done anything REMOTELY close to deserve being confined with terrorists, murderers and all the other people New York City and further afield have decided are unfit to be in society..

But having little routines like getting a haircut, making each other some food, laughing and sharing memories brings some kind of normalcy to an existence that is based in an insanely abnormal set of circumstances.

Looking at everything in here with the same pair of eyes that you would use to justify and rationalize life outside in the street, you'd constantly be annoyed, upset, angry, furious, life would be very difficult to deal with while being held captive.

I do NOT meekly accept that i should be in here or that this is a normal or acceptable place for me to be living, surrounded by the people i am confined with, but that has been established for a long time now and focusing on it won't help with the task of waking up in here every day and having to deal  with life as it stand for me right now..

So what do i do?

I drink coffee..

Try to make my bunkie laugh and remind him that his is only temporary..

We take it in turns to make each other food and clean the cell..

Little things that make life a bit more bearable i guess.

If that doesn't work..


I think back to where i used to be..

How it felt to be there..

Where i am now..

:)

It reminds me that life always gets better..

Wednesday, 29 May 2013

FotoPigeon

Hello..


A lot of people in jail use this service called FotoPigeon where basically you have your people outside email their photos to them, they print them, then send them to your people behind the wall, it's all done pretty cheaply  and is basically saves a trip to Snappy Snaps or Boots or wherever you get your photos printed and also gives a bum like me something to look at..


If you want to send me some photos it's a good service to use and i always like it when people send me photos whether it's random flicks of what they've been up to recently, random graffiti from London, what they had for breakfast today or just anything they want to share with me and remind me of what is happening outside in the world..


It's always appreciated..

Monday, 27 May 2013

LONDON TYPE FOR ME


"I DON UNDERSTAND YOU BUT IZ ALL GOOD. YOU THINK IM A FOOL. JUST REMEMBER WHO I AM. ILL BE HOME SOON AN WHEN I TUCH DOWN IZ GON BE BIG THINGZ POPPIN AN YOU CAN BET ON THAT YOU BITCH. N****RS GON SEE COS IM GON MAKE IT RAAAAAAIN"



"The doctor should be opaque to his patients, and like a mirror, should only show them nothing but what is shown to him" - SIGMUND FREUD



Saturday, 25 May 2013

The clock was already here

Believe it or not i am still not in possession of anything remotely resembling a pillow.


So far through trial and error the best i have come up with consists of a pair of sweatpants folded long ways with two white thermal long sleeve t-shirts side by side like slightly overlapping squares and i rest my tired neck somewhere in the middle.

It doesn't really work though and my neck is in pretty bad shape at the moment. Each time i turn it from side to side it feels like  it's creaking and splintering which doesn't feel very good.

:/

Never mind..

As long as i can get a few hours sleep, tomorrow we are continuing the new workout regime which starts with the hundred burpees/squat thrusts at seven in the morning followed by some stomach exercises and a nice hot shower.

At that time of the morning most people are asleep so me and my bunkie get a bit of peace and quiet outside on the rec yard and the water afterwards is always hot so it's a nice way to start the day, i feel amazing afterwards, especially if my clothes are clean too..

Just got to get to sleep..


I know what to do..

I have to ignore my surroundings, forget about the events of the day, all the new faces that appeared in the unit, stop re-playing the big-ass fight that had us locked down all day, pay no mind to the insanely loud air trying to force its way out of the vent that has been cleverly plugged with a paper plate someone decorated to look like a very primitive and crude clock..


Those industrial noises are NOT toilets flushing and the occasional high pitched bleeping noise isn't a new 'custee' who has mistaken the panic alarm for the button to flush the toilet..

That hourly rattle of nobbed-metal, jangle of swollen fingers deliberately shaking keys, brief flashes of INSANELY bright light on your face and stomach-churning smelling cheap whisky and beef jerky are NOT the man doing his rounds, turning the door handle, checking to see if the two people he locked in a concrete and steel cell with no way out have miraculously managed to escape..

I have to use my imagination!!


Think back on my life..


I need to concentrate..


On nights like these i can easily go to sleep if i can just picture myself somewhere else in a different scenario.

I like to think back to streets i used to walk down, good times i shared with people in certain places and what it would feel like to be back in those places again, on my own, whether i would feel the same..


Would anyone remember me?


Would anyone actually recognize me?


Sometimes i think about those places and what has happened since i left, where the people are now and whether they still think of me, i look back on my time here and think about how big the city is, individuals i met, where their lives may have taken them, all kinds of stupid shit that doesn't bare thinking about at almost two in the morning when you have to get up in less than four hours!!

To get to sleep?

I just need to be a little creative..

Turning the sound of a blocked up vent into the deep hum of a British Airways plane flying me the FUCK back to England?

Perhaps..

Imagining my heavily soiled mattress is an outdoor sun bed somewhere in Turkey or perhaps further afield?

:)

Maybe..

ANYTHING but concentrating on where i ACTUALLY am..


Anyways i don't have that much longer to go..


I just need to figure out where I'm going to go do it all again..


Monday, 20 May 2013

The man with the Master plan..


This is my father..


This is what he painted on a stone for me in Turkey..

Friday, 17 May 2013

Screen closes in 0:14:35



Thankyou for the letters and emails you sent me recently..

-Grace

-Keely

-Adam Fl.

-Nicole

-Andrew

-Pete

-Sykes

-Theo

-Revekka

-Phil

If you're wondering why the paper i sent you looks a little smudged or smeared it IS NOT because of something shady!!


I have a couple of new jailhouse colognes and i thought you might like it..


In a couple of the letters i recieved there were some photos of people wearing the shirts that my freinds in Last Witness were kind enough to put together for me!!

This was really cool thankyou!!

To think that there might be people around the world wearing a t-shirt that has my fucking prison number on it is BEYOND surreal so to see your photos was an extremely humbling experience.

I never imagined that they would have been recieved so well and i'd just like to say how much i appreciate the support that you are showing me.


Although the shirts are currently sold out i hope to put together something new some time in the near future.


People keep asking me at the moment whether i still have internet access and the answer is yes..

I can still send and recieve emails but i've been having a bit of trouble writing in this facility.

People stand behind you when you're typing and it's extremely off putting especially when you're attempting to write more than,

"..YO I GOD MY SHAPE UP FOR THE VISIT YOU KNOW WHAD ID IS.."

So instead of winding myself up at the computer screen tapping away for hours of each day i've been writing stuff down on paper, throwing a couple dabs of muslim oil on it, wrapping them in a few pages of crude letters and throwups then dashing it in the mail.

It's easier that way..

I picked up the bad habit of spending WAY too much time editing what i write on the computer and as it costs about two dollars for every fourty minutes you spend on here it makes sense that i find some other way to just put thoughts to paper.


People have told me that my hand writing is very hard to read though?

Is that really the case?

If it is let me know so i can work on it..


Just incase i didn't make that clear enough yes i can still recieve and send emails.

So please send me some..