65) From The Frying Pan To The Fire

Something serious must have happened on the yard today...

The guards are releasing a bunch of us from the hole early to make room for the, "newly in trouble inmates." A guard came by my cell right after they served breakfast and told me to, "pack it up!" At first I thought the nigga was fucking with me, but as I listened more closely I could here niggas on my tier talking. The problem with the niggas on my tier is the fact that they are all mostly Mexican. On each side of my cell the occupants are Mexican, and I've never heard any of them speak English. Out of all the excited chatter going on I could only pick out two Spanish words, "negro, and punalada... Whatever happen is definitely bad.

Okay, it's official... I've been ready to leave since breakfast, but my black ass is still here and the guards just served us our lunch... In paper bags! Lunch in paper bags means that the units are already locked down. I really don't give a fuck what happened in the units, right now I just want out of the hole.

I've made it back to Killer K and It's worse than I expected. The Blacks and Mexicans banged it out in the yard earlier. One white boy was injured badly. I heard this from my new cellie, Yohan. Yohan is a Crip and he rocks this long, funny ass fu manchu that somehow, he actually pulls off. He seems to be a little slow to me, but as soon as this lock down is over I'm getting my old cell with Fraction back.

There is a lot of back and forth talk coming from the cells occupied by the whites. Anytime a racial fight cracks off, both sides immediately go to high alert. I'm almost positive shit is gonna hit the fan as soon as the cell doors open. The AB's have to prove a point and they're gonna take it out on the first nigga caught slipping. It won't be me.

64) This Too Will Pass

Thesia has got to be one of the most gangsta bitches to ever walk the Earth's surface. Thesia is my grandmother. Mother of my mother. I received a letter from her today and it really lifted my spirits. She touched on a few subjects, but basically she was telling me to not let this prison stint break me. Instead of ending the letter with a formal personal script, she ended the letter with a quote.... "This too will pass." How gangsta is that?

The funny thing about solitary confinement is that each individual gets to analyze their life from a perspective that a person beyond the walls rarely experiences... Beyond the wall the struggle continues. Niggas still have to hustle to put food on their family's table, niggas still have to hustle to keep a roof over their family's heads, and niggas still have to hustle to keep clothes on their family's back. Providing these things can be stressful to someone on the bricks, but the life of an inmate is stress-free for sure. I think this "stress-free" life is the reason so many people return to prison. As an inmate, you will be housed... As an inmate, you will be fed... As an inmate, clothing will be provided for you. Shit, if they sold pussy in commissary I think mother fuckers would be beating a path to get locked up in this joint.

The light's in my cell came on a few minutes ago. It scared the shit outta your boy. Damn, I need a haircut bad!

I just noticed that the cricket is not chirping anymore. With the lights on I can read while I take a shit. Before the lights came back on I had to lay prone on the floor (No homo) in front of the cell door to get the little bit of light to read or write. The cell looks different for some reason....

Breakfast has come and gone 3 times and the lights are still on. They have not gone off since coming back on. The C.O. came by my cell to gloat. Eight words were all he spoke...
"And the Lord said, Let There Be Light." The word hate does no justice to the way I feel about this mother fucker!