For me the simple answer to this question was that I had no friends, or at least none that would visit me in gaol. They were happy to chat on the phone but a visit did not eventuate.It’s a bit hard calling people you haven’t seen for ages for a chat when they ask you where you are…………….
The day I was released there was no one there to meet me, sob, sob. Mum had finally relented and helped to pay out the remainder of my fines, thereby allowing me to be released. She was my only visitor during my time in gaol.
I was only in custody for about 7 weeks but it seemed much longer. No other friends or other family members had come to see me. I had phoned Jeff, Sebastian, Darren and Sharron and my brother but only mum came to visit.
I was a source of shame, others wanted to distance themselves from me lest I soil their good name, or so I thought. So I had to respect Mum for the fact that she was the only person in my world who cared enough to visit and to bring me stuff and finally to bail me out. Although I knew that she was reluctant to bail me out. She thought that jail would cure me of my addiction, and in some ways she was right, it scared me and brought things to a halt. But it was the events that would follow meeting Pamela, getting and getting a meaningful job that really made the difference .
From the very brief time I spent in gaol I could see that prison contains people in a dehumanising manner. There is no rehabilitation it is simply abuse. I came out realising that I can’t rely on anyone.
It was also a wake up call to realise that the people who I thought were my friends were nothing of the sought. Good time Charlies the bloody lot of them, but then what had I ever done for them, it’s a two way street if you want support you have to give it and maybe I had been so selfish I just didn’t give any. Junkies don’t make great friends.
But the fact that no-one else contacted or visited me was also a powerful wake up call. I realised that the life I had been leading was not conducive to creating positive relationships.
As I strolled out the prison gates I was fired up and determined to show what I was really capable of and to silence those who had written me off, my brother and other family members. I was going to show them and this anger inside was like a nuclear reactor an awesome source of energy which could be used to transform my life or build weapons of mass destruction (WMD’s), which might not be such a great idea as it could lead to UN weapon’s inspectors crawling up my anus and cruise missiles slamming into my house and marines laying some “Shock and awe on my ass”.
But first things first, it was time for a trip to the pub to celebrate my release.Glen and I were both released on the same day.I was nervous right up to the last minute, I knew that I had more fines coming, but they had not been processed yet.A couple of times a week two coppers would come down to the work release site to present inmates with fines/charges that had just been processed. I just wanted to get out of there and it wasn’t until I was in the car driving down the road that I felt free.
Glen had his car parked near the gaol and so once we were released we took a ride in his car to a pub at Beenleigh.
Everyday I would visualise what I wanted in my life. The relationship, the job, the stability and happiness that I craved. It made me feel better.
My brother had told mum that, “Dave will be in and out of gaol for the rest of his life he is a no good looser cant you see that?” Thanks for the vote of confidence bro.
Mum seemed to think that it was my gaol experience only that had cured me of my addiction.
“It worked didn’t it” was her reponse, yeah a great way to cure mental illness is to scare the shit out of people, so that they learn to hide any sign of mental illness in the future. Because lets face it drug addiction is a form of mental illness, somethings not right when all you want to do is get high.
Little did she know that I had used on several occasions after coming out of gaol. To me it was a combination of things. Hitting rock bottom, getting a rewarding job, and having a loving relationship, these were the key factors. I was being drawn toward a compelling future that was the key rather than avoiding a painful past. I was learning to love and accept myself to acknowledge my bi-sexuality and feel OK about.
ButI believe that it is wrong to punish people who are sick. I know that I was sick, I was suicidal, suffering from extreme depression and behaving in a high irresponsible manner.
Recently a Mental Health group had an article in the Australian requesting that Rene Rivkin be released because gaol was having such a negative impact on his mental health. Well most of the people I saw while in prison had some mental health problems. The environment in gaol is not conducive to developing a positive mental health. Rene killed himself he was very unhappy.
Mum didn’t want me to tell people in the family that I had been to gaol. She was often trying to hide something. I have memories of being prepared by her to lie to a friend or relative about some personal situation. It was usually done to avoid conflict or on the pretence of protecting this person. I often felt caught in a “double bind”. Or as mum used to say “The definition of insanity is having two contradictory ideas” and on that note I agreed with mum. For example it might be like knowing that something has happened to you but also knowing that you cant talk about it.
“I told Sophie” , my cousin
“Oh Dave you didn’t did you, she will tell everyone” Mum’s expression was one of utter despair, it was as though the shame would kill her.
Mum would often call herself “A seeker of truth”, but she was often lying to people and requiring that I become involved with her webs of deceit. She was usually well intentioned with her lies, it was done to protect people usually or avoid conflict. She didn’t mean any harm by it.
I believe that punishment and prison are poor ways to stimulate behaviour change.Change is then based on fear, and avoidance rather than being directed toward a distinct goal. Sure it may work but it also tends to have a dehumanising effect on people.
Within 3 weeks of leaving gaol I had a job doing landscaping. I did this for about a month.One day I went for an interview at the Salvation Army job agency and they offered me a job as an employment consultant on the spot.I had a psychology degree, a clean cut image and well spoken manner these qualities would be useful to them. I jumped at the opportunity this would change my life.
A few weeks later I met Pamela at a party who would become the mother to my child. It was billed as a sexual fantasy party I came dressed in drag and she was dressed as a nurse what a couple. The chemistry was there and we had a great time.
She had also been sexually abused as a child. She came from a family of six and her brother forced himself upon her repeatedly when she was young.
I saw Gary the speed dealer from Arthur Gorrie who I shared a cell with. I score some pot from him and have cones with a group of homeless people.
Pamela also told that she had worked as a prostitute when she was younger to support herself. Like my mum she had run away from home at 14. In her youth she had lesbian affairs and for a while rejected men completely.It seemed like all the women I were with had experienced sexual abuse and lesbian experiences or fantasies. Were all women like this or just the ones I was attracted to?
“Your just a butch dyke”, Pam said as she rubbed her pussy on my ass, and I thought yeah I am, finally someone who understood me.
I had to travel to the head office which was the Valley to go through my induction; unbelievably I found a fifty packet of heroin in my wallet. I must have left it there the last time I shot up, which was about 1 month ago. On that day I had purchasedsome gear and mixed up half and put the rest in my wallet. However, because it was so strong I totally forgot that I had stashed this smack.
It was in the corner of a plastic bag chopped off to make a tiny bag which held the hammer. I was stunned to have found it, I quickly decided that I would use it, feeling guilty but excited about my find. I went to a chemist and purchased a fit packet. From there I made a beeline straight to the toilets near Brunswick street station and locked myself in a cubicle ready for action. This was a familiar haunt from my past, I had shot up here many times before. On the floor I noticed an empty fit packet, the words Theremo emblazoned on its distinctive plastic packaging, as I proceeded to mix up my shot, I could smell urine.
This all seemed so familiar to me, I felt like I had done this before.
I slept a deep slumber and I dreamt of flying, freedom and peace. The oneness embraced me………………………………
“The shaman not only survives the ordeal of a debilitating sickness or an accident, but is healed in the process. Illness then becomes the vehicle to a higher plane of consciousness. The evolution from the state of psychic and physical disintegration to shamanising is effected through the experience of self-cure. The shaman – and only the shaman – is a healer who has healed himself." (17)
This is the lowest security unit in which I have been confined. The compound is surrounded by a four metre electric fence, but it is not turned on and the gates are always open. It’s a casual gaol without many of the formalities of the more professional establishments. There are no guard dogs, sniper towers, armoured cars, moats, spike or acid filled pits, machine gun nests or Apache gun ships as you might find at many other correctional facilities. This is where you come when they trust you not to run away or do anything nasty. If you do play up its back to R&R where you can be locked down.
Within the compound are 4 houses and about 30 “dongas” as well as a kitchen and dining room building and the screw’s offices. Dongas are small self contained units that look like small cargo containers. They are built for one person.
The four houses in the compound used to be the accommodation for prison guards at the old Moreton B unit at Wacol. This now deserted gaol lies silent behind the work release compound. The houses are spacious brick highset three bedroom family homes built in the fifties.
This facility is designed to house inmates who are in the final stage of their sentence. They come to Wacol and are required to find work in the surrounding suburbs but to live at the gaol. There are also about 7 fine defaulters but we are confined to the compound and the park out the front.
Prisoners in the work release compound are not required to where browns, so I rang mum and got her to bring up a bag of my clothes.
On the first day that I arrived I walked up the steps of the house and found Gary, Glen and Damien watching Neighbours and I thought this has got to change. Roy, Bob and myself have come from Pallen Creek.
Boba Maori fellow mellow of spirit but earnest and well meaning. He has come from with me from Pallen Creek. We play scrabble together, do crosswords and play euchre. Bod has thick black dreadlocks intense eyes I would not like to cross him, he has an aggressive side, but generally very mellow and obliging.
Then there was Glen, he was from NZ origninally a farm boy and he still had the down home country bumpkin style, naïve, friendly and chatty. He had also worked as a 'chippy' and recently had been on a number of trips to Europe, the US and Asia. “When I get out I’m goin on a cruise, I mean I could pay my fines now but what the fuck, let them put me up for a few months for free and instead of paying them I will go on a Carribean cruise, cool hey.”
Damien was a Murri bloke who worked as a panel beater, likes to read Peoplemagazine and watch Neighbours. He also likes his ganga and is good for a laugh. He has seven kids on the outside, so being in here is bit of break for him. He gets one his mate to drop some pot off to us every week and we all chip in a few bucks so we can have a smoke. Its easy to conceal from the Screws, we wait until the last rounds are done and then light up.
Gary is a Pom and quite the joker, always ready with a wise crack and a jibe. He is a big Soccer fan and proudly sports a Manchester United tattoo on his shoulder.He is in gaol because of his failure to pay a bike helmet and seatbelt fine from ’91, nearly ten years ago. He was working as a chef at the time when he was pulled up for a routine traffic stop and they checked his records only to discover the unpaid fine. Gary had no money to pay so it was off to gaol for him.
Roy is a young Inala boy, poor education always trying to ‘one up’ everyone but ends up back firing on him and making him appear more stupid than hewould if kept mouth shut. “lettuce has THC in it”
Ray we call the rapist, he is very insensitive, and widely despised. Everyone wanted him out of our house, makes lewd remarks about young girls. Tried to move him into 3 other houses and they all don’t want him. Asked me about scar and clear sign of insensitivity. Damien wants to bash him. 40 bald and podgy smart ass.
(MY SCAR – So Ray after only having known me for a few minutes asks me about my scar, if you look at the photo in the book you will see that it is very prominent. Some people never ask me about it others do, I use the way they ask and how long it takes after meeting me as a gauge of their sensitivity. I also have feint scars on my face from my child hood accident with the window.)
Other characters included;
Giuseppe – fat little Italian in for 8000 mull plants
Alex – the Romanian in for dealing harry caught with 1.5lbs of harry.
Rick – gets out in a couple of days and he has bought a car and plans to drive it unregistered no plates to HarveyBay. Been in for 2 years but risks his freedom just because he wants to drive home, stupid fool.
Scotty is a Gold Coast boy only 5’4” tall, is a go-ee (speed) head and knows Steve. He is familiar with the story from the Musos club where the chick lost her thumb, the stolen Harley and the Uhlans contract on Steve $30,000. Scotty says, "Yeah they call Steve ‘bob’, cause hes gunna be bobbing in the river, once they finish with him. Scotty also knows Ray Rifle and lived in Tambourine, his brother Matt committed suicide (guitarist)
John is fat, bald, short (5ft 6in) four eyed and equipped with a borderline personality disorder. He wears unflattering spectacles and from a distance looks like ‘humpty dumpty”. When he speaks he has one volume level and that is too fucking loud, with every word that comes from his mouth it sounds like he is a sergeant major screaming orders to a bunch of new recruits. The master of the kitchen, I have regular quarrels with him. When I arrived at Wacol I had to make another request for vegetarian food. I was taken into the kitchen and introduced to John, he was surly from the start. John got sent to prison for presenting $680,000 in forged cheques.
The highlight of every day seems to revolve around the Olympics being held in Sydney. We are doing well plenty of medals rolling in and the commentary from Roy and HG about the “Dutch wink” during the gymnastics produces hysterical laughter.
Euchre is a big attraction in our house and we spend hours drinking coffee smoking cigarettes and playing cards and reading People magazine.
I am reading Orwell’s down and out in London and Paris. The plungers of Paris working their asses off for fuck all and the Spikes of London where the homeless and indigent go for shelter. Sounds a bit more hardcore than the modern gaols, Orwell was quite a bloke, to think he lived as a tramp for months to research this book.
We are paid $8 a day to do very little, mowing, kitchen hand, emu-bob etc.
The regular crosswords from Picture magazine, and pictures of tight asses and girls in tight fitting panties their pussies jutting out like a sacred mound, I take the magazine to the toilet and put it to good use. Ah thats better, we all take turns wanking over the babes in the privacy of the toilet.
19/9
It seems that no-one ever really knows who you are and vice versa. Was I a victim of abuse? Was my mother? Is it right to apply the term abuse to what I experienced or was it just false memories created by a man desperate for someone to blame for his fucked up life.
Whatever the label that is applied there is no doubt the experience has had an impact on my emotional and sexual development. Whether this is positive or negative is all matter of focus and interpretation. By that I meant do I choose to focus on all the pain it has brought me or the insight it has given me.
All of my intimate relationships have been characterised by a fear of rejection and a lack of trust. Rita my first real close relationship was one in which I was always worried she would cheat on me. I felt that if given the opportunity she would go off with someone else, and feel no guilt or regret in such an act.
As a child I watched as my mother went from relationship to relationship seemingly without concern for the impact this would have on her children. The word slut comes to mind when thinking how to describe her sexual conduct. Indeed the women I have chosen as girlfriends have been similarly characterised. Michelle, Rita, Linda, and Julia all very flirtatious women who used sex as a weapon, means to power and a way to reward and punish.
My way of dealing with the parasitic nature of sexual relations has been to withdraw from them. Yet this is a high price for we all yearn to feel love and intimacy but often we get a whole lot more.
Conflict, pain, abuse, rejection, revenge, and turmoil. While peace and love were sought pain and suffering are wrought and those who once loved become the bitterest of enemies. Betrayal is prominent and redemption far away, so dark clouds of derision blight the fertile fields.
People label you in their poor attempts at understanding. They label to control and restrict and ironically to understand. But their labels never really fit their ideas often wrong and confusion reigns.
Pete “I tested positive to THC on the piss test”
Roy “How high was the result?”
Pete “Just a tiny bit over”
Roy “Have you been eating a lot of lettuce?”
Pete “Why?”
Roy “Lettuce has THC in it”
“You sure man?
“Oh for fuck sake Roy, there is no fucking THC in lettuce.”
“There is dude, I was talking to this bloke who was reading about it on the internet.”
“Well your mate was reading some prime fucking bullshit man, because I can assure you that is totally incorrect.”
“Yeah, whatever., just calmdown dude, you know, how would you know anyway”
The gaol system makes you feel like a sausage in a great machine being pumped through a series of treatments – watch house, watch house transfer, R&R, OBS, W3, transfer, Pallen Creek, transfer Wacol.
In the end you are spewed out back into society to be consumed by the machine.
The adversarial system of justice.
A plea of guilty is seen as a provocative in the face of the law. A person found guilty who pleads not guilty will receive a more severe punishment.
“The adversarial system of justice does not promote positive values. Instead you have two sides who are hell bent on winning. Therefore, the truth (I use this word loosely, since I do not believe that there is any objective truth) is the first victim in this war. Each side is concerned with protecting their careers and reputations and thus they wish to achieve their goal regardless of the truth.
Furthermore, the justice system is an industry that employs tens of thousands of people. The lawyers, judges, police, prison guars, parole officers, cooks, cleaners, dentists, etc. Then there are the prison industries that use the slave labour to sell goods in the free economy and compete against businesses who have to pay appropriate wages, sick leave, super etc.
Money = good = innocent
Indigence = bad = guilty
Greed, money, power, corruption, abuse and betrayal.
Justice is an illusion and a lie perpetrated by the rich and the powerful.
22/9 Dreams
At Darren and Sharron’s doing work, Red haired girl from Bardot and I hit it off then a cage surrounds me.
Living in a site much like Palen Creek without the fence, Jamie from R&R brings guitar and amp has harry for me. Mum comes to visit. They confiscate harry and begin interrogation, I repeat mantras
In a squash court an old women who works there hits on meLiving in a college housing single room with very thin walls. I can hear my neighbours. Get dressed and go outside huge open field
In Afghanistan travelling through city in a cab to a restaurant. I am with a young women it is a family gathering, Christine my aunty is telling her about family history including Mum’s work she is surprised, I smoke it annoys her so I go outside. An American soldier nods to me, a group of US kids together, I try to exit through the kids door it is too small go through the adults door and have a cigarette.
I meet up with God and he says, “Let me tell you about the wisdom of the washing machine. You see my son good and evil are not the same and there is one crucial difference you must understand. Let us think of the washing. When we wish to cleanse our clothes we can use a variety of different powders.
Evil is like an old style washing powder that will only wash in hot water, where as good is like a new style powder that can wash in both hot and cold. You see evil is hot and this heat contains tremendous power and energy, but it can only burn on and is never satiated. Where as good heals, loves and cares for and when necessary the hand of the good man may be raised in anger against a threat.
Thus good is like Dynamo a versatile washing powder that works in both hot and cold,having access to the heat but also the cool healing power.
Was it all just a dream, he wished he had taken that chance, when he came to the crossroads, but he didn’t and now his lot is cast………………..”
Control - Propganda
“the media sets the agenda it does not inform”
In order for the elite to maintain control over the lower classes a system must be developed to restrict any rebellious sections. Rebellion in a capitalist society revolves around property crime. The lower classes (along with the rest of the population) are fed a diet of propaganda through the medium of television which convinces them that happiness can only be achieved through the acquisition of material goods. If this great goal is denied to you through poverty the result of unemployment, underemployment, gambling addiction, alcoholism, poor education or drug addiction then property crime is a means of overcoming the problem. Thus people commit crime and if caught enter the machine of the justice department where control is complete.
The rest of society is then convinced that in order to protect themselves from these marauding groups of criminals pervasive surveillance is necessary. Cameras are placed everywhere and people may even request them. It seems that it will not be long before Orwell’s prediction of cameras every home becomes true. Divide and conquer
Michael Moore speaks of the “culture of fear” – when people are afraid or feel threatened they will give up some freedoms to protect against danger, ie increased police powers post 911.
The illicit drug trade gives the government further chance to control any deviant groups. Once addicted the individual becomes a slave to the drug, and embark on property crime to fulfil their need. No energy is available to look at real problems.
The illicit drug trade is an industry that directly supports Lawyers, judges, police, prison guards and the like and indirectly it touches all levels of society.
Divide and rule, create a threat to the group – Orwell – 911 In the computer game Deus Ex, taken from the latin phrase “Deus Ex Machina” or God in the machine, a terrorist strike on the Statue of liberty (this game was made pre 9/11) an evil group threatening to destabilise the world leads the government to adopting draconian laws to deal with this threat. The question in the game is did the government orchestrate this act so that it could gain more control.
Sources of Control
Family
School
Mental institutions – psychiatry / psychology
Prisons
Religion
TV – the media
The greatest source of discrimination in so called advanced liberal democracies is through the economy.
The potential to be gaoled for not voting, not wearing a seat belt, not wearing a bike helmet or not paying a parking fine. Here are some interesting statistics on prisons in Australia
96% of al inmates in gaol are male
80 % of offenders in for drug related crime – property crime
Many male inmates are victims of sexual assault
Drug addiction is a form of mental illness or mental disturbance
Crime rates are highest in the poorest areas
Most inmates are from the lower classes and most poorly educated
Mostvictims of violence are young males
Mostperpetrators of violence are young males
Gaol is an industry that creates jobs, which requires raw materials – the crims.
There is no rehabilitation, there is just degradation, the token courses available fail to address the causes of crime which are systematic and not based merely on individual crims………………
The prison industry needs raw materials and these raw materials are the criminals themselves. The government needs to fill the prisons it wants high levels of occupancy to keep the industry moving.
We live in a society of hypocrisy, our religion says do not kill, yet we have army chaplains, and during war we pray for gods help. This is absurd.
When the Western world is desperate for babies abortion is encouraged as an option for people who want to focus on there career and extend their own child hood a little longer.
Women have embraced the fullness of their gender identity both masculine and feminine while men are still clinging to restrictive notions of gender identity which still focus exclusively on masculine pursuits. The idea of being a man is to not be a women, and if women have expanded their territory then the traditional man has had his reduced. The need is for men to expand their limited gender identity and for gender to not just be seen as a women’s issue but as an issue for everyone. Men need massive change.
Communication breakdown
Bob said , “He doesn’t realise how charismatic he is”,
“What the fuck did you say?”
Bob said , “He doesn’t realise how charismatic he is”,
“I thought you said ‘He’s running with carrots in his ears’, how fucked up is that, talk about misunderstanding.”
“Hey Bob do you have a $2 coin”
“Don’t have any corn mate, that’s a fuckin strange request if I ever ‘eard one.”
“What borrowing a couple of bucks/”
“What did you say?”
“Can I borrow 2 bucks”
“Oh fuck sorry mate I thought you said ‘Hey Bob do you have a tin of corn’, don’t know how I got that though”.
25/9
Today I did my usual walk around the park it is quite tranquil and I enjoy it. I brought some bread with me and I fed some mag pies, it gaveme a tremendous sense of well being. The kangaroos come everyday to the park across the road. They in contrast to myself are free, and I watch them with a mixture of joy and envy. They come at about 4 pm and feed under a stand of trees. Today I watched as the mob bounded into view. A joey was visible its small head protruding from its mothers pouch, secure in its infantile cocoon.
As I walk around the park I chant mantras “Om mani padme hum” and “Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna, Krishna Hare Hare, Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare.” All the while imagining in detail what I want in my life.
We wake at 7.00am daily to the sound of a screw over the PA system saying “Wakey, waky, hands of snaky, time to get up gentlemen”, or some similar thing.
I share a room with 2 others. There are three rooms in the house with two in each of the other rooms.
After getting up I venture to the mess hall for breakfast, where a selection of five different cereals is available. Eggs and bacon is often served, and there is a ready supply of cordial, milk, bread and various condiments. (vege, p/butter,honey,jam)
After breakfast at about 8:30 am we begin our daily routine of chores. Some guys work in the kitchen, clean the toilets, but I usually just peal potatoes. If there is mowing to do I do that or pick up rubbish lying around the compound. We get paid $8.50 a day for our various chores, for about $60 per week. I would not spend more than 2 hours a day engage in such chores and frequently I spend less time. On some days I do nothing but still get paid. We must sign in at the office every morning and sign out when we finish our work. The screws don’t seem to care what times we fill in on our time sheets as long as something is filled in.
Lunch is about 11:30 when we collect sandwiches form the office that are made the previous evening. We must write on a brown paper bag our order for that day, requesting the number and type of sandwiches, 3 maximum and 2 pieces of fruit.
I had a run in with John the head cook, because I failed to fill in my lunch bag for that day. John only has one tone and volume of voice and that is loud and grating. I asked if he might make something up as I had forgotten to fill out an order.
“John I forgot to fill out my lunch order, do you reckon you could make something up for me?”
“Look you know the bloody rules no order, no lunch, so learn you lesson and be off with ya.”
“Ah for fuck sake John, all I wants a fuckin sandwitch”
“Don’t you fuckin sandwich me, I wont take this mate, I told you how it works…..”
“Well
He was loud and angry and was clear that he refused to help me out. He began pointing at me. I became very angry and felt like punching him, but did not for the consequences would be great for no gain (back to R&R immediately).
Recent laws make it illegal for prisoners to talk with reporters or the media and it has been suggested to me that it is illegal for prisoners to publish reports of their experiences in gaol.
This seems to be highly suspicious for it allows the state to keep secret the goings on in side prisons. In Queensland s100 of The Corrective Services Act 2000 is explicit when it forbids media access to the state’s tax-payer-funded prison system
Time rolls and the revelations become more vivid as the mind expands and the awareness develops. With every passing day my resolve and determination grows, I believe I can achieve and I know that what I wish for and what I believe can become a tangible reality.
I am proud of the way I have handled myself and I feel sure that I can take responsibility for my destiny. From great trials come great opportunities and I view my experiences as gifts to be treasured for the path to success is wide open and the light is shining.
Many mysteries confound the confined soul, but the soul freed to explore the great tribulations of life.
26/9
Urine test this morning. I was tested 2 weeks ago when I arrived here at Wacol and of course tested positive to THC. The cage is where they leave you if you can’t do a piss. They give you a cup of water and wait until you can piss. Then an officer takes you into a toilet and gives you a pair of gloves to put on (so you can’t contaminate the sample) turns on the tap in the sink, and watches you take a piss into a small sample jar. Some inmates will put a bit of soap under their finger nail which they drop into the sample thereby contaminating it.
Luckily for us pot stays in your system for several months, and therefore the pot we had been smoking since being in gaol would not make any difference.
27/9
A Hero has to have a fatal flaw, a weakness that makes them vulnerable. When otherwise they are powerful and dominant, when faced with their weakness they can be overcome. Superman could be brought low by exposure to kryptonite, and so the hero in my story alternates between periods of crusading justice fighting tyranny and oppression defending the weak and vulnerable to periods of self indulgent drug abuse, a junkie fixated on personal pleasure pathetic weak and hopeless.
Steve hates the needle because he fears it he fears that it might take him down he knows that he’s a junkie but he transfers that self loathing onto others.
“Yes boss, no boss.”
29/9
Released from custody.
I bought a copy of the Courier mail and my attention was drawn to a picture on the page 3. It was a picture of Lee my old heroin dealer he had been busted. It seems that Lee had been caught in the act, busted by an undercover cop who went by the code name of Dave Hawkins, funny coincidence I thought. Kind of like that bloke in Scanner Darkly the PK Dick Novel.
Lee had a clever plan when it came to hiding his heroin. He would pack several kilos of heroin into a car and take it to a workshop to have a new component fitted, a turbo for instance. He would pay half of the cost upfront but would leave the car there and come back to get it when he needed the supplies which might be weeks or months. In the meantime the mechanic would be chasing him for the money and eventually he would come to collect the car. However, instead of collecting it he would ask for some more modifications to be done, a new gearbox, and pay them in cash for the work done so far and some more for the work they were about to do.
He had several cars all over Brisbane in workshops be modified that were loaded with uncut heroin.
The harsh tones of the intercom roused me from my slumber. To my surprise I had been sleeping well in the watch house. The light was kept on all night and we slept on a mattress with a thin blanket, no sheet or pillow. But this morning I was very relieved, my name had been called and that meant I was being transferred to Arthur Gorrie.
After breakfast inmates who were to be transferred from the watch house at Roma Street to the Arthur Gorrie Remand and Reception Centre (click on this link to see a google earth view of the prison) (R&R) were taken from their cells and escorted to the prisoner transfer vehicles. These unmarked 3 tonne trucks, could take about 8 inmates and each inmate was handcuffed and a placed in cramped confines with only a tiny window to look out of.
The trip from Roma street to Wacol took about 25 minutes and I kept worrying what might happen if we were in an accident, locked in and cuffed I would not be able to escape I felt slightly claustrophobic. As we pulled into R&R I could see the shiny steel fences with razor wire and the drab buildings that made up the gaol.
The intake process at R&R takes an hour or two. Most of this time is spent waiting to be seen. Firstly you are taken to a long corridor with cells on one side and offices and consulting rooms on the other. New inmates proceed along the corridor, to complete a variety of processes. We are strip searched, have a shower, wash with special shampoo to kill any parasites living on our bodies, receive a set of new browns, thongs and bedding, fill in a form, and talk to a counsellor for 5 minutes.
A pretty young girl with a pony tail asks me “Is this your first time in prison” , as she looks at me I imagine she is thinking, ‘well this one’s going to get it, pretty boy here, they’ll love him’.
“Yes”
“Are you fearful about entering the general population?”, she stares at me rather blankly, and I wonder if she is a virgin. She has seen fear before, but she’s not really sure what it means, she knows its frightful, but what really happens. But you see I had heard plenty of stories and was familiar with the case of Scott Topping who was serving time for $1200 in unpaid traffic fines when he was brutally raped and murdered at Woodford prison in 1997.
Sp my answer to this question was of course, “Yes”
“Because this is your first time inside and you have mentioned that you have a history of suicide attempts you will probably be sent to the OBs unit at first”
“What’s that?”
“It is a special unit where inmates can be more carefully supervised during the initial settling in period. “
Then we were lead back to the cells on the other side of the corridor to await the next stage of processing. I felt like a commodity a product being pushed on an assembly line, ready for life as a prisoner.
Next we were sent off to the medical unit for an interview with a Nurse who also takes a blood sample to be tested for HEP C, HIV etc.Once this is completed we were then escorted to our unit.
Upon arrival at the OBS unit or W1 as it is known, I was issued with one packet of White Ox cigarettes with a lighter and papers, standard issued for all new arrivals.With my full packet of White Ox I soon found friends, or smoking comrades at least. White OX would have to be one of the strongest tobaccos available and one which was favoured by prisoners.
“Can I get a rolly off ya mate?”
“You got a ciggy mate?”
“Can I get a pinch of backy off ya bro?”
“Give us a couple a rollies I’ll fix ya up on Buyup day.”
“hey buddy got a dury?”
It seemed strange that they gave me a free packet of the strongest cigarettes available upon arrival. Could they be sued for encouraging smoking, and not just that but encouraging inmates to become addicted to the most potent tobacco available, white ox. But I was relieved and soon found my head spinning as I inhaled the first rolly.
I was allocated to cell number 33 in block W1 the observation unit for inmates at risk of self harm.
There are four blocks (W1 {obs}, W2, W3 W4) and each unit consists of 40 cells in 2 levels. Each cell has its own shower, toilet, and TV for one prisoner. The unit has a kitchen, and exercise area. The exercise area is approximately 15X15 metres and contains, a chinning bar, dipping bar, b/ball hoop, punching bag. There is only one screw in each section.
I soon found that my supply of tally ho papers was all gone but luckily, Hung the Vietnamese heroin dealer, gave me a couple of packets.
Len had been involved in a break and enter and arson where he had gone to rob a house at night and as he was leaving decided that he would burn it down.
“I’ve always loved fire, you know the flames are alive, rising up to consume everything, the power of it the way it eats everything, its fuckin beautiful man you know god, anyway, I’m havin a great time watchin the inferno, but I get lost staring into the fire and before I know it there are fire engines and cop cars pulling into the house, and I’m still standing their fuckin transfixed by this fire , anyway the fuckin pigs got me and so here I am.”
Both forearms were heavily bandaged, it was obvious he had tried to slash himself that’s why he was in the obs unit.
Chris Petrie could never remember my name so he called me “that Guy” and from this he got Guy Fawkes which later lead to him giving me the nick name Fawksee. We spent a lot of time giggling like school girls over the most inane shit, it was a kind of hysteria induced by the surreal nature of our surroundings. For some reason we called him glucose, he used to work in the army stores, schizo, highly intelligent, funny, witty (brainy brawny guy), cataracs,
Ian was in gaol for fraud a direct result of his hard core gambling addiction. I am not talking pokies here he was more into the roulette, black jack and good ole two up. He was a down to earth, and very sincere bloke, and seemed a genuinely good person (900,000 fraud). More sophisticated than most of the others we got along well. There was a table tennis table in the unit and we played a few games, Ian was a pretty good player and we had some decent matches.
Stephen Baine knew some of the guys from the stripping group I had been in , Muscle Down Under, and we swapped stories about our experiences in this profession.
One of the screws looks out of place, with his round, soft face and timid voice. We call him the “kindergarten teacher”, when ever he calls us up for muster he speaks in a soft voice and a sense of foreboding dominates his posture.
Mich the sincere, good natured bloke I met in the watch house, was in my section he is unusual in that he shows empathy, but is missing 2 front teeth.
“Curly haired nice guy” – went to Camp Hill knew Mr Kealin (weighlifting coach), Sankey and Nimmo were both weightlifters who were also in the QLD team at the same time as me.
“You like training mate?”
“yeah always been into the gym a bit.”
Fredrick – the mystic, muscle man, very insightful, man read tarot, Maori/Hawaiian/German/Irish.
“G’day mate, me names Jim.”
“How are ya mate, Daves my name”
“Good to meet ya Dave, where are ya from?”
“Ah well I’ve been in Brisbane for the last 15 years or so”
“How about you?”
“Yeah from Brissie, went to Churchie, got into smack and here I am.”
“Oh yeah that shit will do that for ya, I was a bit partial to the smack myself”
“Yeah its fuckin wicked when your on, and a bloody horror story when your off it,”
“I used to score from a bloke that sold gear at East Brisbane near Churchie.”
“Oh yeah what was his name?”
“Alex, do you know him”
“Fuckin, know him, I used to score off the cunt, hows that fuckin small world hey, Alex has gone straight nowthough, youknow how he used to be a real skinny fuck well he’s a fat bastard now.”
“You might have known Bongey as well then”
“”Fuckin oath, that dodgy cunt, fuck he had a filthy habit, jeesus,“
“Yeah last time I saw him he was headed to the Buttery for rehab”
“I used to work at a needle exchange for a while GAIN on the Gold Coast, a bit like Quivaa.”
“Oh yeah Quivva hey,have you met Dougie yet?”
“Ah no don’t think so”
“ah well you’ll laugh at this shit he used to workat QUivaa man, I’ll introduce ya to him, he’s just over there on the next table, come on this is a laugh.”
“Hey Dougie, another one of your needle exchange mates here you know him, “
“Ah no, don’t think we’ve met, Dave is it, yeah nah, we havnt met but you worked at Quivaa”
“For a bit, mostly at GAIN on the coast”
“I went to school with Pomy, he’s always been the fuckin same” Dougie said
Pomy got his knickname because, you guessed it he is a pom, and despite being in Australia for 15 years still sounds like one. Thinking back now Pomy reminds me of the Office’s Ricky Gervais,he even looked a bit like him.
“Yeah I’m an accountant got my own firm no one knows I’m in here though told everyone at the office I’m on a bloody cruise” , he grinned and slapped me on the back heartily Pomy liked a good joke. But as time went on he wasdeceptive, and a bit of a user.
You know “Hey got any fags mate”
“Nah Dougie I’ve only got a few left”
“Oh come on mate, just give us pinch I’ll fix ya up later you know me come on mate…..”
“Oh alright, here that’s all, I cant give ya any more”
But despite that he did make me laugh till I cried on numerous occasions, but the exact nature of what he said eludes me.
“He watch out boy, they’ll be after your ass…..”
“Ah get fucked Pomy, you fuckin faggot”
“Calm down sweet heart don’t get so huffy…..see that boys the little princess is in a tizzy.”
“Yeah whatever, you fuckin cock sucking fuck.” It was a game but it still pissed me off a bit and you know how a bit of fun can sometimes get out of hand.
Ray Rifle the brother of Steve Rifle were notorious Gold Coast drug lords, Ray was in W4 so I crossed paths with him occassionaly.
Then there was Darren he was withdrawing from methadone, cold turkey. They had given him some clonidine and a few valium other than that he just had to wait it out.
Girmay Gebru Habtu killed Elias Ertito Nedebo with a machete inflicting 19 wounds and chopping off his dick.Habtu believed that Nedebo was screwing his wife so he attacked him.Well known Australian swimmer Hayley Lewis was a witness at his trial.Apparently she had heard the murder but had assumed it was someone having loud sex. The victim was killed in the unit next to her house, she was quoted as saying that“I thought it was two people having sex….I was a bit embarrassed,” she said. To Lewis the agony of murder sounded like sex, which begs the question what sort of sex do you like Hayley? A bit of S&M maybe?
Habtu was from Sudan and had a poor understanding of English. I felt sorry for him he was a total outsider here. A couple of the boys were stirring Habtu , teasing him and leaving orange peels on his bed. He responded by yelling in a distinct voice very high pitched voice “he kill you” and running his hand across his throat in a threatening gesture. The boys laughed it off and thought it was great fun.
Food fights – like a bunch of kids on camp – although you know that any moment it could get ugly. (Habtu –is getting angry)
Susan Maureen Robinson,was the gaol psychologist, rather attractive, tall, slender, blonde and she spoke with an American twang in her voice.Rumour had it that she was fucking one of the inmates. But I thought it was bullshit, as if an attractive intelligent professional woman would get it on with criminals.
In our first session together we discussed my situation.
“My parents won’t bail me out I feel intense anger towards them”
“Don’t you think it’s about time that you took responsibility for your actions?”
Her eyes were cold and distant, I could feel her disapproval, I could sense her dislike.
“Yeah I suppose so, but its not like I have done some serious crime, I am in here for non-payment of fines, not armed robbery or murder”
“Still you have done the wrong thing, and this is how society punishes people who transgress the law, the sooner you accept that the sooner you be on your way to recovery.”
“Recovery, from what? I never mentioned anything about recovery, what are you on about, I have a right to be angry about bad treatment, I mean if you go to a restaurant and get bad service you have a right to complain. “
“Yes, I didn’t quite mean it like that you see, what I meant was that you need to focus on what you can do not what you cant”
Later she would be charged for having a sexual relationship with a client and advised to “avoid client sex” Her lover, Mark Nolan was an armed robber who, moved in with her following his release. The story was in the courier mail a couple of years after I was got out. After a few years of love he ended up back inside.
Justin Paul Jones was one of the accused who bashed Peter Cribb. Peter Cribb was a promising university student who was bashed unconscious when he was ambushed while riding home from QUT. Justin and some mates were drinking under the WilliamJollyBridge along the bike path near the freeway. They bashed Peter and left him for dead his body floating face down in the murky BrisbaneRiver. Peter is now a vegetable and requires 24 hour care.
Justin smiled a lot and looked to be from the Torres Strait. He was quiet but well spoken and a big fan of the Broncos. He didn’t look dangerous just a very young man who made a tragic mistake, that cost another young man his life.
Out of range of Jones, I mentioned that I thought “the bashing of Cribb was a cowardly act”, the other inmate I spoke to looked at me, with cool hostility, it was clear I had said the wrong thing to this man.
The list below includes some of the memories from this first experience with incarceration;
Slashed wrists, broken hearts and drugs
OBS the blue light and camera, obs every 15 minutes
TV in “slot”
More food and space can go out into the sun and move within units
“One day someone on fines will top themselves” (Scott Topping was killed)
the buddies
“I’ll do the time standing on my head!”
“Trolley up”, “Muster up”, “Oval up”
Numerous armed robbers GBH
“Yes boss, no boss”
“Medication time”
Stripping of manhood , become a child
Timetable
7am – let out of cells
7.30 – breakfast
10.30 – Muster – stand in front of cells
12.00 – Lunch
1.00 – out to the oval, do laps, on running track, while others play soccer or touch football on the oval
4.00 Muster up “Trolley up”
4.30 Dinner
6.00 Lockdown
On the second day at R&R we are taken to a Gaol Awareness Session, where we will learn a few key facts about gaol culture. For example we learn that;
Sexual acts in the common areas can offend other inmates
Avoid being a ‘chat’ clean up after yourself – A chat is prison slang for a dirty bastard.
Whispering to screws – it looks bad
Don’t be a dog– ie don’t tell tales or you can expect some rough justice
We are given a nice little hand book with these and other wonderfully helpful tips on prison life.
1/9/00
I’ve been in gaol now for nine days and during this time I have gone through a vast array of emotions.
The initial horror that sinking feeling that overwhelmed me when the police car rolled into the car park and caught me in the act of shooting up has faded. The watch house experience was the worst. They kept us in a semi starved state, confined within a small area. The food we ate was airline food from Qantas. Or it was made by the Qantas caterers, because food trolleys, the food containers and plastic utensils had the Qantas emblem on them.Imagine that they serve the same food on planes as though do in gaol. The quality was very poor and portions were small.
At the watch house I casually requested vegetarian food but it was not provided. By the time I had reached R&R I was determined to get the proper food. I approached one of the guards to discuss my request. He gives me a form to fill out and tells me to wait.
The next day I approach him to ask about my meals he replied, “Mr Hawkins you will learn that I am a man of my word, I don’t lie to crims, if I say I will do something it will be done”
“Yes boss,” I replied meekly. The guards like to be addressed in this manner and most inmates are happy to use this label, I was keen to fit in so I did so too.
Even though I was transferred out of the padded cell at Roma St I was still placed in the observation wing of R&R when I arrived. The only difference in this section is that prisoners may be in danger of self harm and are closely monitored.
In each cell there is a camera which is on 24hours and a little blue light so they can see you. Each night before lock down inmates are strip searched in the observation wing before entering their cells. This involves getting naked and putting hands behind your head and squatting while coughing. The guards then inspect behind your ears and in your hair to check for things that may be used for self harm.
During the day I pray saying a variety of mantras to calm my spirits and clear my mind. I like the “Om mani padme hum” – which means I am an infinite soul or something like, the “Hare Krishna” mantra and the Lords Prayer. While saying the mantras I kneel on the floor and lean forward to bow my whole body down. I do this for 30-45 minutes a day.
I am also doing 30 chin ups, 300 pushups, 50 hand stand should presses, 100 dips and 50 tricep presses to keep me in shape, clear the mind and discipline myself.
Other guys bash away on a bag, their punches gave me tempo to follow.
“He mate can you give me a spot “, I ask a bloke who is standing around having just had a go at the bag.
He looks at me blankly “No one ever helped me bro, ya know, do it ya self, I aint your boy.”
I felt annoyed and kind of insulted. But there was no way that I wanted to fight this bloke, so I knew to keep my mouth shut. But it was an aggressive interaction could easily have turned violent.
Inmates smoke, laze in the sun, exercise in the yard and pace up and down like dogs in a kennel. The exercise yard is enclosed by thick steel mesh within view is the fence of the prison. It consists of five sections. A small 1 metre high fence, followed by a 3 m electric fence, then a 4m razor wire fence, then a 5m steel mesh fence topped by a large steel cylinder to prevent it being climbed and finally another 4 m razor wire fence.
An armoured car regularly patrols the perimeter which is monitored by cameras and illuminated by spotlights. If an inmate even touches the fence they will be “breached” and sent to the DU (detention unit) which is the punishment section. Here the prisoners are kept locked down 24hrs a day, no TV, no cigs, and 4 hours compulsory exercise a day.
People have been known to throw tennis balls filled with drugs over the walls to get them to the eager inmates.
Just for talking to prisoners in another section through the wire we were threatened with DU, while another inmate who verbally abused a screw was in there for a week.
Two vital rules in jail.
Don’t stare at anyone you don’t know
Don’t ask too many questions. If people want to tell you why they are in let them but don’t force the issue.
Also don’t get too friendly with the screws , if you have a problem see the buddies. The buddies are inmates in green shirts who are responsible for helping prisoners settle in.
So make that three vital rules, there are probably others but these ones seem rather important.
All the other inmates are dressed in ‘browns’, which include a brown shorts, brown t-shirt, thongs, cheap runners,brown track pants and brown jumper. You must supply your own underwear.
“Buy up” day is a special event and is when inmates are permitted to purchase extra food, mags, toiletries, cigs, etc from the prison store. This happens only once a week. You must complete a form the day before to place your order. The goods are then delivered to the units on large trolleys.“Buy-up” purchases are packaged in brown paper bags with a copy of the inmates order form attached. It reminded me of tuck shop when I was at school.
Friends are essential in goal, for moral support and to avoid conflict.
Most inmates are under 40 years of age with the majority under 30. In “Obs” there are numerous inmates with severe mental disturbances. Many have scars on their arms from self-harm and many have been or are addicted to drugs. The majority of prisoners are poorly educated and from the lower class. Tattoos are common and mullet hairdos and the like.
In gaol there seems to be a very high ratio of guitarists. In our section the prison has provided a couple of nylon string acoustic guitars. Two young Samoan guys grabbed the battered nylon string acoustics and began playing a beautiful duet.Then one after another different guys had a strum and each one was quite skilled.
The steel cutlery for our section is stored in wooden block and must all be accounted for after each meal.
While Jamie my neighbour from TSS is great guitarist. We sit together in the exercise yard chatting about heroin addiction and taking turns at playing guitar.
He got busted trying to do an armed robbery to support his junk habit.
“Gaol reminds me of boarding school” , Jamie said.
“The restrictions, the routine, all male environment and the playing up, it is very similar. It just that here you really can’t leave even if you want to, but that was how I felt when I was at TSS (The Southport School). “
Jamie was a tall bloke, he had long hair tied back in a pony tail, he was on remand for his trial, he had the look of the defeated. He knew he would have to serve a few years for his crimes and was resigned to the fact.
When I spoke of getting out soon he looked dejected and changed the subject.
Heroinhad got the better of him. He had started off just having it for fun, but fun soon turned into dependency and dependency soon turned into desperation. He robbed a service station, got away with nearly a grand and spent it on smack. But he got caught and now he is in gaol.
“Muster up”, we respond by standing by our cell doors for the regular head counts.A screw calls out each cell number and inmate’s name and you must respond to acknowledge your presence, usually with a casual “yo” or “yes boss”, Or “here” or “yeah” etc…
(Drugs to sleep put in food – never able to stay up later than 11pm). This surprised me because when I was not stoned I would normally stay up late into the night. However, while incarcerated I would become very drowsy by 11pm so that I was unable to keep my eyes open.
I would usually watch TV every night and I can remember seeing the Brisbane doctor Trevor Sauer win the 1000 000, on Who Want to be a millionare, while sitting in my cell at R&R.
There was this movie on SBS about a lawyer who went to gaol for a fine and while in their he got framed for murder………..
The worst time is the morning when you wake and realise where you are. You think of all the people on the outside and what they are doing and you look to the clear blue sky through the barred windows wishing you could just fly away.
However, there is one thing that gets me out of bed every morning and that is Aerobics Oz style. You might be thinking that it is admirable for me to be so focused on fitness while confined but it was really about titillation. The sexy little nymphs cavorting around in their leotards were a bountiful harvest of sexual stimulation for me.It was part of my ritual, leer at their asses and wank in time to the music as they bounce across the screen. It gives me a tremendous feeling of well being and for a moment I can forget where I am.
I feel ashamed, a failure, I consider suicide. I have been down for so long. I haven’t been with a woman for 3 years. Well at least not one I didn’t pay for. I wonder whether I will ever meet a girl or if somehow I am so dysfunctional that I will always be alone.
What will I do when I get out I can’t continue to live the same way I did. The isolation was soul destroying why is it so painful if there is only more pain and suffering ahead maybe I would be better off dead.
In here all these guys seem to have girlfriends and wives and kids.Why me how come I am so absolutely hopeless at picking up women?
My drug addiction was a manifestation of my mental illness, and as treatment for this illness I find myself confined in a prison.They punish me for my sickness, hoping to scare me back to health.
I ‘m in goal full of violent “hardened” criminals, for not paying some fines. I realise that I was caught driving a motor vehicle while under the influence, however I did not hurt anyone of cause damage to any property. Is this justice I think not. This will forever, tarnish me, and I know not what will become of me once released. I am so angry at my father it is typical of him to not be here when I need him. In all of the great emotional crisis of my life he has been emotional absent and withdrawn if not physically absent.
My disastrous relationship with Michelle has permanently scared me and I feel as though I will never be able to really trust again. I have difficulty being intimate with women I don’t trust and I find it takes a long time to develop that trust. I fell I have missed out on so many opportunities because of shyness and indecision. Yet I look around and I see blokes who I fell I am far superior to and they have girlfriends.
Goal is about many things and the people are here for many different reasons. But one recurrent theme is money. Whether it is because they needed it for drugs or gambling or just greed this substance leads many into trouble. It corrupts and destroys erodes and degrades it causes conflict and leads to deceit. Or it creates, heals, supports and develops how do we use money?
This is a prison that is owned by an American company (the Wakenhut Corporation). It is run as a business for profit. I am in prison for failing to pay fines totalling $1750. It costs approximately $135 per day to keep me in prison. ( I get paid while I am in here for doing very little) So if I serve the 64 days I have been sentenced to it will cost the government approximately $6400 and they will pay this to the operators of this prison in lieu of me paying them $1750. Therefore, they actually spend $8000, to confine me. Makes perfect sense doesn’t it.
Furthermore, I am in the same environment as people convicted of serious offences, grievous bodily harm(GBH), assault, armed robbery, attempted murder, drug trafficking and murder. It is inappropriate to confine people convicted of minor and serious offences together, I was confined really because I failed to pay fines imposed for traffic offences. Sure I was convicted of possessing heroin but that is a minor offence and would normally only incur a fine for a first offender such as myself.
Furthermore, it is an insult to the victims of serious crime to have people convicted of
“In gaol you get coffee in goal you get tea, in gaol you get everything except the bloody key!”
But to my surprise what do you get issued with, but a key to your cell.
There are no free weights in R&R ( Arthur Gorrie Remand and Reception) due to death of BartVosmaer. His head was bashed in with a barbell while he was training in the gym at Sir David Longlands (SDL), and as result he died. As a consequence of this action all the weights were removed from SDL and R&R which is just across the road.
Last night they brought in a young bloke and put him in the cell next to me. As they were bringing him in he was screaming, and thrashing his body about. I could see them through the small window in my cell door. He screamed and shouted all night, I could hear him banging his body against the door and walls all the while making the most horrendous sounds of torment. I pray for him, and wishhe would be quiet. At first I am sympathetic but as the time draws on I become annoyed by his antics and wish he would just shut the fuck up and take it like a man.
Revelations
Tonight they showed the Movie the Mystery Men on TV. I find that through the TV I can escape to another world. I find myself laughing hysterically. It seems thehero must endure trials and tribulations.
“When you doubt your powers you give power to your doubts”
The Sphinx – Mystery Men
6/9/00
I do acknowledge that I have put myself here through the decisions I have made. No one but me is to blame for the predicament I am now in but me. I accept responsibility for my action s and I am happy that I am here. For I feel that this experience will act as a catalyst to stimulate personal growth and development.
If I had not been put in gaol I would not have been forced to change. I would have continued on my errant path imprisoned by fear. For though I was not surrounded buy walls on the outside I was in an emotional prison that was crippling me.
This experience will only strengthen me and allow me to fullfill my true destiny. I am powerful, but I had forgotten that I had succumbed to fear and depression. I was lost and now I am found, I have been blessed by this experience and I know that this was meant to be.
Saw a familiar face today, which was a welcome event. Ray Rifle, Steve’s brother was in on remand, awaiting trial for a few jobs he had done. Ray had been busted a couple of weeks ago and his picture had been in the paper.
Went to see the Prison administration people and they have completed my security evaluation and have told me I will be sent to Palen Creek a low security prison farm.I am due to leave tomorrow. I don’t like goodbyes and some of the blokes I do tell, you can see their underlying jealousy that I am going.
I am a writer, I write stuff, if you like it keep reading, if you don't well too bad, cause I will continue to express a diverse range of opinions about a whole lot of different things, and anyway you can always stop reading if you dont like it, I mean its not like I am going to hunt you down with a posse of maniacal killers all dressed in black with groovy names, nah......its not like that, its more like this, you wanna piece a me, huh, you cant hanlde a piece a me, punk, come on....
