cobwebs

Hello? Is there anybody in here?

I thought it might be time to dust off the cobwebs and make an appearance in the blogosphere. Crikey it's been a long, long time, but it's good to know people stop by every now n then to check out whether or not I'm still kicking.

A lot has happened since my last post. Bring a bottle over sometime and we'll have a catch up. In the meantime I just wanted to let you know I'm still around and if I've got something to say I'll blog about it. As I'm feeling a bit rusty right now I've decided to post some thoughts from my friend (and sometime blog collaborator) Gypsy. We've been writing to each other for 2 1/2 years now and I'm happy to report he's doing fine - just been reclassified and is now on Minimum Custody, which means he has a lot more benefits. Check out his post and I'll be sure to pass any comments on to him...

I'll be back with a feather duster shortly

man made hell

Sometimes I sit here and wonder where I went wrong. How did I end up in this man made hell? Why? Why did I have to take the path that would lead me to wasting my life? The years seem to fly by; the wasted years of my life.

Am I the type of person who should be hidden from society? How many years of my life should be taken before I am considered reformed? I came here for a violent crime, but deep down inside I know in my heart I'm not the violent type. I've lived the last eleven years of my life with the regret of what I once did in a past life, my past life. Maybe, just maybe, that is why I go so far out of my way to stop the violence in here - to try to right the wrongs I did in my own life.

Now, in here there seem to be two types of people - those who hate me and those who love me. The ones who hate me do so because I don't know how to mind my own business, which means I don't let them prey on the weak. The others - the preyed upon - are just glad to have someone rescue them.

For eleven long years I've dwelled on my past life, my past crime. Was that really me? As I look back on that night in July '98 it really does not seem it could be eleven years that I've had to live with the regret that I let myself harm another human being. As I look at myself today it doesn't really seem possible. I won't even hurt or kill a spider (I have three of them that live in the corner of my prison cell and I feel they have as much right to be here as I do. Maybe even more).

I've suffered for the past eleven years for a crime I've always deemed self defence. But was it really self defence? Could I have defended myself without hurting the other person or am I truly like those other animals I am forced to live with who hurt a person just because they can? I would like to believe that I only did what I did to save myself. But saving myself put me here for-how-long-I-have-no-idea. And when I do get out will I be like so many others and come right back to this man made hell because I now no longer know of another way to live? Has prison changed me so much that I won't be able to adapt back to the free world? Are my fears real or are they just my mind working double time? I guess I'll never know until the day I am finally released from this man made hell

Gypsy