June 12

This is the best opportunity I’m gonna get to quit smoking. Gotta have a positive attitude, right? I’m kind of over this. Only 13 days in and I’ve had enough. People tell me I’m hard-timing it by reading books and keeping to myself in my free time. They said I gotta walk around and talk to people… I don’t see the point. The topics of conversation that are bearable are mostly recapping the movies and songs we all miss.

“Remember that movie?"

“Haha. Yeah, me too.”

I’m paraphrasing, but you get the gist. It only makes me miss the outside. People talk about their lives on the outs as its called and I’d bet a soup that 90% of it is bullshit. A lot of people trying to impress each other. Why? We’re in jail.

I hate the bracelet I’m forced to wear. I hate the over-sized clothes, the boxers I hand wash every night, and the colored socks that smell like they look.

Black socks always stink.

I hate reciting my booking number on command: “3058695.” I hate the nasty guards who demoralize me and I can’t say anything back. I guess it’s about compliance. Fuck compliance. Ahhhh, there it is; defiance, my favorite form of sabotage. The one that only really hurts the self.

Writing this out is cathartic as fuck, but I’m not done.

Fucking the people in here and how they behave with their commissary. The nickel and diming, or the favors they want. Fuck the pretend touch guys. Fuck the institutional racism that I’m forced to fall in-line with. Honestly, fuck the judge that sentenced me here. I know I committed a crime and deserved to be punished but what kind of fucking moron would think it was a good idea to send a recovering alcoholic to a place that’s teeming with drugs. So yeah, I stick to myself as much as possible. And yeah, I’m a little angry with my situation....

Of course…

This is all justified…

But I still have things to be grateful for. And I think that separates me from a lot of other prisoners. So thank God for the things that matter: friends, family, health, and of course, this opportunity to quit smoking.