Change of plans-I'm not going to
the revocation center. Because of my
conduct the last time, the warden chose not to admit me, an interesting move. It probably wouldn't have been in my best
interest to return there anyway. I'm
sure they remember me well: I doubt if those memories are fond one for the
staff. Fuck them.
Now I guess it's off to prison as originally planned. There is the insane possibility that my parole officer might interpret the warden's refusal as a sign from a higher being that I don't need to be locked up anymore. I expect her to come see me again soon and let me know what's up, but I already know that "what's up" is probably another hot summer in a chaingang somewhere.
Being under the control of the state, arbitrary decisions make such big differences in my life. They determine where I do my time and when I get out. My welfare is in the hands of a small group of people whose prejudiced judgements of my character determine my tomorrow. So much uncertainty. I just roll with it. They say the worst thing you can do in a motorcycle accident is tense up. I had a friend who wrecked his bike going over 120 mph and according to his surgeon, the only reason he survived was his extreme intoxication. He was so loose from taking valium and drinking beer that he rolled with the punches of a high speed crash into a guard rail, and relatively mild injuries were the result. In the same way, I try to stay detached from the outcome of the many choices other people make for me. It's out of my hands. I just roll with it. One minute I'm going back to prison. One minute I'm not.
The final verdict is in, and I'm at Valdosta State Prison. In a program called RSAP. Intensive therapeutic drug rehab. Around lots of familiar faces. It's gonna be a long 6 months.
Now I guess it's off to prison as originally planned. There is the insane possibility that my parole officer might interpret the warden's refusal as a sign from a higher being that I don't need to be locked up anymore. I expect her to come see me again soon and let me know what's up, but I already know that "what's up" is probably another hot summer in a chaingang somewhere.
Being under the control of the state, arbitrary decisions make such big differences in my life. They determine where I do my time and when I get out. My welfare is in the hands of a small group of people whose prejudiced judgements of my character determine my tomorrow. So much uncertainty. I just roll with it. They say the worst thing you can do in a motorcycle accident is tense up. I had a friend who wrecked his bike going over 120 mph and according to his surgeon, the only reason he survived was his extreme intoxication. He was so loose from taking valium and drinking beer that he rolled with the punches of a high speed crash into a guard rail, and relatively mild injuries were the result. In the same way, I try to stay detached from the outcome of the many choices other people make for me. It's out of my hands. I just roll with it. One minute I'm going back to prison. One minute I'm not.
The final verdict is in, and I'm at Valdosta State Prison. In a program called RSAP. Intensive therapeutic drug rehab. Around lots of familiar faces. It's gonna be a long 6 months.
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