Our Living Landmines

August 17th, 2026

Before on here I've said it is impossible to be in prison a decent stretch without going native unless you're a jerk. My first year I rejected basic syntax. "Chow Hall" was too inmate so Cleo, Queen O'Denial here still said "cafeteria" between dummy-doper daydreams about 11th hour pardons from the Governor's mansion. Middle class Honky raised (reasonably) right Risperdal escapism caved slowly. Year 5 abandoning pills and fantasies, I became a 52 yo. Collegiate Queer. From there I've joined the flock with distinct feathers and markings. Still, it's family. Strangers who someone cooks, eats, bathes, craps, pees, cleans, and sleeps beside = that word. Sometimes we get black sheep. Forgive color commentary implications. That idiom's inconvenient coz this don't exclusively concern my cuzzes.

One outta two sleeps upstairs and white as a sheet, Holmes. Lately I've kvetched over the sad state of my younger brothers, lazy grifters with entitlement issues. Thing is, most have rays of hope hitting their faces. This one steals off other inmates, most unacceptable. Honor among thieves is truth, unmasking slithering scoundrels. Second, the inner cottage industry of selling OJ, Suboxone from the pill window, blesses aging convicts by allowing men having long lockdown spates lacking outside funds fundamentals like clothes, coffee, or even their own TVs. Mind you this is from an item given FREE out a window. This creep is one who crushes other meds like Excedrin into the mix to increase personal profits off his friends.

Like most sociopaths we got ourselves a chronic liar here sliding by most but I read like a damn book. Pulling stunts like these without conscience, selling a joint to some high school kid or blow to a collegian with Fentanyl won't bother him a bit, nor the body attached. He'll blame the corpse for their risk. Walking past this guy and containing myself displays my recovery, but some moments I feel irresponsible.

Worse is one who moving into my wing a couple weeks back on sight I almost cried. Historically, he's run me inside 3 times as I was trying to talk to friends and would not stop interrupting with inane questions and comments. What I'm about to say is maybe the most awful you can about a person. There's no good reason in the world for that guy to keep breathing.

On life's calculator, he's the minus button. Watching the news we frequently see the story of that mentally ill person killing 1-20 after several short stays at jail and prison. If this dude met some cute girl at a grocery store, say, and she smiled at him, I'm laying heavy odds she'd have 0% choice in the matter of sex with him for that. 50% she wouldn't live to speak on it. He contains the mind of a five year-old perpetually woke up too quick from a nap in an athletic 20-some-odd body. Healthy dialogues with him aren't a thing. Dangerously stupid, hyper-reactive to comments, questions, or suggestions, inciting arguments daily, existing like a filthy troll mad if asked to tidy up, talks about sex in off-putting ways, asks silly childish questions while anyone nearby tries having adult communication, and tosses tantrums daily. For added fun, all of this seems escalating.

For the record, this fella is Black. For a second opinion, a dark-skinned dude from across the way where I work: "that nigga's fucked in the head - like crazy retarded shit, that's what he's on". Any sanctimony keep it over yonder, or you dealing it can offer the Jewel of Northpoint a home placement to aid his " recovery".

My journey here closes in about a year, and I'm the richer for it with many mechanisms for making me my best. Back in county jail 2016 my sissy cellie said I'd meet some I would feel a new kind of hate for. Bailey hit the nail without looking. Thing is, the majority of those I realize are institutionalized, lost, and permanently punished. What I feel for this pair's different. They're threats to innocence, unlike losers I suffer the most. Those won't come close to such. Their cowardice and particular screwiness keep them from the untouched.

Gone native, I'll always be an inmate. Working for and beside my community definitely fits my repurposed future. Be that as it may, even with a "dead" family I wont poop nor pee beside any more, I'd fight to keep a few here away from them.

Keep your good ones close...xoxoxo Batmama