No! My back had three days in a row where it allowed me to get about four hours of sleep straight and now it's worse again.

​I continue to torture myself by looking at pictures of my kids. I dreamt my boys and I were playing a game at a kitchen table and then I was yelling at my daughter about staying out of the neighbor boys bedroom. I still dream of them younger than they are now. My heart doesn't give up on them.

Called to HSU at 10:25am and me with nurse "Suzie." My crunchy Cheetoh for an elbow did a wonderful snap when I straightened it so loud I think the guard outside the room heard it. Suzie says her arm has a similar issue. I pray she takes accurate notes as I list all my pains. There is a guard working the unit today who I notice gives the young guy across from me the extra long look when she checks his cell. Today, as her and another guard come through, she does it again at the same time the other guard approaches my door, but he is watching her as he does it. There was this moment where he snapped his head away just a tiny bit like he didn't want to see her eye-dive another guy. Was that jealousy? They usually walk around as a pair but I always assumed it was being done so if an inmate made an inappropriate comment then they would have a witness for disciplinary proceedings but they don't need a witness anyway. They will find an inmate guilty of whatever a guard says. She seems to collect a lot of ugly rumors. The latest being that she "got drunk and fucked the whole bar" recently. I am sure that is an exaggeration at the very least but that is the sort of gossip that guards circulate about each other. Anyway, the guy seemed to be hurt she was looking at an inmate. I only get the long look from a male guard which is not my preference if I had to pick. I am curious if the jealous male guard will look for a reason to grief the inmate across from me though. I will let you know if I see anything else happen.

I recently dreamt about looking through my father's top dresser drawer for a comb or brush that was not used by either him or my older brother. In a different dream I discovered I had four testicles and thought, "Well, that explains a lot." I do not actually have a clue what that might explain but that's what I thought in the dream. 

There was a debate on TV tonight for American Presidential candidates. The current President and the previous President both seemed quite un-Presidential to me. It would not surprise me if the next debate included a viagra fueled geriatric pecker waving contest or wrestling in tapioca pudding. One candidate just fear-mongering and being disrespectful while the other bragged about his inflation fueling policies to privilege special interest over the greater public interest. 

Hello humidity. Welcome back. I have my fan turned all the way up. The walls are so wet that a piece of tape won't stick to them. I had washed some clothes yesterday and they aren't drying. I continue to think about how I would design an institution to be a safer, productive, and positive system. All these guys villified and given up on because of the misbehavior rooted in wanting attention or acceptance of their family or peers and the path they realized has only carried them further down the spiral. The public interest cannot be to disenfranchise its people. I guess what I am trying to say is disenfranchisement is injustice. My meditations the last few days have been centered on that. It is in my nature to want the people around me to reach peaceful and harmonious lives. Even if I don't really enjoy their company they should have a way to accomplish it where it doesn't interfere with my own zen, or anyone else's. I would suppose thinking along those lines will drag me down the pursuit of happiness analysis which often runs into the write-a-better-constitution argument which always loses to the no-matter-what-you-say-someone-will-always-twist-the-meaning-to-satisfy-their-own-interests counter argument. Then I will tangent to how political theory devised by the founding fathers really doesn't scale to our population very well and now we can plainly see how detrimental it can be to everyone when a system champions the lowest common denominator to leadership. If I go on about that sort of stuff then people will stop calling this my journal and start calling it my rostrum. You all will most likely read this in a typed and digital format but as I write it with pen on paper it is more like inking out loud. Sounds like a title of a poetry book.

​The news said the dew point was in the upper 70s to low 80s so the humidity was so bad it appeared as rain on their radar. Perhaps unintentionally or maybe to dry the concrete so wet it was slippery, they opened the doors to let dry cool air into the range. It was more than just enough and an indication that someone who makes decisions here does have a thread of kindness. Or maybe the power bill is crazy when all inmates run their fans at the highest setting? I like the idea that it was done because someone is a good person. I like that explanation the best.

It is a really nice day today, probably in the mid-eighties, Fahrenheit. At rec one of the guards configures some doors usually locked shut so he can sit on a chair in front of the open door to allow himself to sit outside and watch the inmates in the yard while cooled by the breeze of air conditioning from the building. It is wasteful, sure. Sort of shameful too, that they would rather throw it away carelessly than to utilize it for inmates whose cells get so wet it destroys books. Most importantly it is an example of how a poorly planned institution becomes an inefficient burden to taxpayers. I don't really understand why guards are out there anyway. They don't get in the middle if fights break out. Guards should have much less interaction with inmates in my opinion. They should have riot dispersing water canons they can shoot from air conditioned towers strategically positioned around the yard. The canons should also have an option for pepper spray if they need. Then they could immediately respond to any physical altercation with suppressive blasts of water. Plus, you could pay a kid $20 per hour instead of $38 per hour and control more inmates with fewer staff. And I promise you any inmate would rather towel off than to have his jaw wired shut or recover from having his face stabbed up because the guards were busy assembling into a group before approaching a violent inmate. Work smarter and safer; squirt squirt.

My other observation is that guards shouldn't be randomly pat searching inmates so much. It is a process abused by guards for their own gratifications and they rarely find the contraband anyway. What I believe a well designed institution should do is to limit the property that is allowed in the inmates cells even more than they already do so they can quickly search through their belongings and relocate inmates to different cells. Most contraband is hidden within an inmates property so the less property they clutter their cells allow for fewer hiding places. They should let inmates release property to visitors, which they do not, and offer more entertainment and education options through the internet. Actually, I imagine a large video display and camera that would allow for virtual doctor visits, educational programs, video visits, or whatever else. Something built into the wall behind thick security glass where an inmate could option a small speaker or headphones/earbuds. They could pay staff half their current wages to enforce the decency standards imposed on any other interaction with staff or visitor, and then the interactions would have an independent account of what transpired. No more framing guys for solicitation with fake butter stories? It could be safer for the inmates. It could drastically reduce inmate movement to HSU and their housing unit, allow for inmates to be seen quicker, and limit the potential exposure of inmates hostile to each other, or even hostile to staff. Triple the construction cost per cell to halve the operational expense, and reduce potential lawsuits by accepting more responsibility for the "persons in our care." We can demand more out of our cell phones and should demand more out of our cell homes too. The idiocy of a penal system and how it cultivates criminal lives. Inmates should be provided every opportunity to satisfy restitution, rehabilitate and rehabituate into lawfully productive group members, and be able to do so safely. Otherwise it isn't really a department of corrections. It's just The Department of Incorrections. Two, or more, wrongs do not make anything right. Even the most heinous criminals seem to disconnect from the crimes that caused their imprisonment and the wrongs perpetrated by the system fail to have relevance. An inmate being molested by a guard because he got caught brewing hooch doesn't think about, or talk about, how he is here because his first drunk driving ticket was the result of an accident where he crossed the center line and caused the death of two people. Or if he gets caught with porn? At what point is the government just assuring future problems? When people become so incarcerated that decarceration is not possible? We should be doing "this" better. Where do we start? Think water guns. Squirt squirt!

When a persons actions are consistent with their words then their intentions are self-evident. Judge Bruce Schroeder often shared the story about when he was a kid his neighbor was a judge who liked the saying that "The brain cannot absorb what the seat cannot endure." Bruce himself reiterated that saying multiple times throughout my court proceedings, including during the trial. When he told the jury the trial would last about two weeks, then imposed a "snow day" in fear of the weather, then took an afternoon off to drive his wife to the hospital, then let the prosecution speculate and masquerade conjecture as fact for over two weeks until defense counsel's witness subpoenas expired, and then dismissed the remaining defense witnesses to the preference of the prosecution, I knew something was wrong but was in such confusion about everything that I did not immediately recognize the scheme. Especially if you consider he not only refused to read the Denny motion, but also prohibited defense counsel from questioning anything pertaining to information contained in the Denny motion during the trial, it becomes evident that part of his role was to exhaust the jurors patience. To have "gatekeepered" exculpatory information and cross-examination of the Denny motion and invited any blatantly obvious fabrication and false testimony, as well as irrelevant testimony whose only purpose could be to besmirch my name as it demonstrated absolutely no relevance to the case or the truth-seeking process of trial, all points in a specific direction. And there was a moment where he bragged about not being fearful of his rulings being challenged in appellate court. Based on all of those things, and I am sure more I fail to recollect at the moment, I think it would be reasonable to infer from statements and patterns of behavior that he intended to have an unfair trial by framing the jury, but he also intended to undermine my ability to appeal by allowing or building a false record. It is emotionally difficult attempting to process being framed for crimes I did not commit. My heart grasps desperately for anyone to weigh the facts instead of the fiction. The court is supposed to assure in that interest but instead I found authorities colluded in moral abandon for my wrongful conviction with a diabolic scheme to also attempt to deprive me an appeal. I don't know how much of what I just mentioned will be presented in post-conviction arguments. I have ready plenty of judicial and prosecutorial misconduct cases where every possible excuse is afforded their wrongdoing. I just don't see how any honest and reasonable person could not see it for what it is: an elaborate scheme to wrongfully convict and shift the burden of proof to the defense through the use of fabricated testimony and evidence at trial. And if it were just that simple, but the judge, by all appearances, was in on it too.

While at the law library this morning the legal clerk tells me about how they installed a camera to specifically view the computer screen of inmates looking at their discovery material because inmates look at the pornography they had on their phones at the time they were arrested. I do not want to be using the computer the previous inmate was just using to masturbate. I don't feel that recording my discovery material respects privacy and confidentiality required for due process in post-conviction or appeal procedures though. And just like peeking at guys in the night, how much of this prison system is allocated to policing masturbation? Most of the guys in here only care about getting their rocks off through drugs or sex, or both. They weren't working on a retirement plan before they came here. Education and professional development was way more complicated than bullying their mother or whatever other weirdo loser program that got them by. That's sort of mean, but I see guys primarily concerned with superficial and immediate gratification and nothing else. What confuses me is taxpayer dollars being used to try to regulate some twenty year olds self abuse. If it doesn't affect anyone else then what interest does the government take in policing it? The war on drugs is not winnable. Not even in prison. The war on dittle bugs is also not winnable. Guys, and girls, are going to succumb to their passions. Especially without the availability of a romantic partner. Paying someone to peek in cells and watch guys use a computer would probably be better allocated toward having inmates wash their hands and providing enough computers to do legal work in the proximity of staff. "Keep your hands above the table." Or maybe there is a security interest and rehabilitative interest for sex crimes. I don't know. Maybe if guards didn't require access to look at me in my underwear while in my cell I wouldn't be questioning their motives and methods.

The humidity has dropped quite a bit today. The guard who pays me extra attention caught me standing in my underwear this afternoon with his long dick-high stare. It isn't too humid for pants but always wearing them creates in-grown leg hair. Regardless, I knew he was working and should have planned accordingly. It still startled me to turn around from my sink and see his eyes buried in my undershorts. "Hey, I am up here! Eyes up here!" I am surprised prison issue undies don't have a window in the front, you know, "for security."

The tablet services have optioned a monthly one-time rate for Pluto TV access. It has reduced the cell-to-cell yelling quite a lot. I guess they are monitoring what guys watch and movies that show nudity are being blocked when they find out. The masturbation police shall restrict your toilet paper, steal your mail, and censor mature TV. Each guard that each prison allocates to perform these responsibilities reportedly clears over $100,000 in wages not including benefits with retirement options after 20 years. I have said before and I say it again; they have enough staff but they use them in all the wrong way. And, yes, it is awkward and sad that that is "what is going on" for me to write about. 

The unpleasant heat and humidity continue. About 4:50pm the guard who shows unusually high interest in me stands outside my door while inmates are momentarily let out of their cells to grab a meal tray. Because of the weather, I am in my underwear and have the lowest portion of my window obstructed so you have to walk up to the door if you want to see my lower half. I suspect the guard doesn't want his meat gazing to be so blatantly obvious for the camera as to stand right at my door to watch me. He does, however, knock on my door and tell me to remove the piece of paper. When I explain I am in my underwear and don't welcome people checking me out from the busy hallway, he says "they are getting on us about things being in the windows" which is probably not at all true since he is the only guard to make an issue out of it. He can see in my cell, but he just cannot stand across the hall and see below my torso. I remove the paper from the window but go lay on my bunk and cover up until he leaves. I understand I am in prison, but it is events like this that demonstrate how there isn't a legitimate security interest, but a personal interest that inmates have no protection from. Well, not none. I should be clothed or under enough covers if I don't want to be consumed by hungry eyes.

​Finally got a video visit to work. It never works well but it connected for the complete duration. A guy named Robert Hughs supposedly filed a lawsuit about inmates having access to things they purchased on the old tablet. New state-issued tablets were available on April 10th and there are a lot of complaints about the costs. I want to go kick a soccer ("football") around with my kids. 

Genesis 1:3 and God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. Preliminary estimates of when light becomes heavy have proven trickier than I originally anticipated. Without knowing what temperature that all-pervading plasma becomes a previously-all-pervading gas, or liquid, or solid imposes a bit of guess work. Plus, once something is no longer all-pervading then you have to factor pressure as well. In short; I am still a long way from proving any photomotive engine can be created from the yet undiscovered perpendicular field created when a mass of radiant energy flows in the same direction.

Still no video visits. I hear they have disable some services on the tablets as well. The Department of Justice would say this isn't a punishment. We are only required to have one call every thirty days. Complaining would be futile.

I pace for hours unable to sleep. My right hip bothers me from time to time. Perhaps from turning back and forth every couple steps... for years. Laying on these mattresses cannot help either.

​One thing I think is scary and creepy is how I can smell the cologne or perfume of a guard down the hall and can actually predict who it is. Not every time, but fairly frequent. It happens automatically that your senses constantly survey the environment but you start to turn into things you wouldn't otherwise notice. Then, once you know a persons normal scent, you can tell if they are having their time of the month or if they go heavy on perfume to cover it up. Or, if they had sex, presumably the night before. Sex seems to happen much less frequently than I would have otherwise supposed. Guys try to mask their self abuse with cologne as well. It doesn't smell the same as a woman. Bother men and women odors vary depending on their diet. People should really wash themselves better, eat better, and maybe use some odor eliminating deodorant or cream, the cologne and perfume doesn't really solve the problem. In a way, I guess it is like when your eyes adjust to the darkness but you cannot look away from what you see. 

I once read that space could be thought of as an all-pervading jelly. Perhaps jelly isn't the right term. If we take an iron bar and increasingly apply energy, it will change its material state from solid to liquid to gas to plasma. What is absolute zero? Negative 327 degrees Kelvin? that's about the temp of space, right? But at the sun, where it is millions of degrees, Iron becomes a plasma where all of its components break apart and it really isn't iron anymore. It is more like an all pervading jelly you would need to cool down for its component parts to coalesce into gaseous Iron. Wrap your head around a lung-full of that! But, what if space is just an all-pervading plasma where negative 327 degree Kelvin is actually millions of degrees to the all-pervading plasma and as you would continue to cool the all-pervading plasma it would coalesce its currently indistinguishable components from plasma to gas to liquid to solid? That would be really really cold. Almost there. Bear with me. If time itself appears to us as some homogenous ubiquity in our all-pervading plasma, but it could be cooled enough for it to coalesce into a component part of when space itself becomes a liquid or solid, would we then have a new absolute zero and could we then manipulate this new zubstance? Where science fiction becomes science fact? All matter has a temperature where it experiences the phenomenon of magnetism. That phenomenon is some resonant affinity in the all-pervading jelly that creates a "field" of interaction. If space becomes a solid then it would doubtfully maintain characteristics that would allow it to create a magnetic field. So magnets have absolutely nothing, or perhaps everything to do with manipulating zubstance. We cannot yet tell. but if we cool the all-pervading plasma into a substance where time coalesces into a component part which we then manipulate with some sort of tool that is either really magnetic or not at all (depending on the temperature) then perhaps we would be able extract ourselves from time and enter the time at a different position. Thus, making it possible to "go back in time" to spend with my kids. I know, I know. Talk about taking the long way home, eh? When you combine my fantasies of cooling of the space in this muggy hot cell and spending time with my kids then this is what you get. People say you have to write what you know. In my situation, it is the theoretical discovery of all sorts of ideas including time travel. So thank you for reading my journal entries. I hope you continue to, or have already read the things I will haver have written in the future past future...

Only 2:00am. Time to pace back and forth for hours. An inmate serving breakfast says guards "ran up in his cell" at 2:00am and accused him of selling drugs but didn't find anything. Then, or maybe before, a new kitchen worker supposedly claimed he had solicited her but he ran into her and asked her directly but she told him she didn't make any sort of statement. They had also reduced the charge to disrespect even though she claimed to not have said or reported anything. After being branded with bogus accusations very similar at Dodge it appears to be their method to justify whatever mistreatment satisfies their interests. Slim will now lose his job as soon as they can ready his replacement. He said he will fight the ticket but was already told he is losing his job.

I managed to fall asleep before lunch so I am up to almost three hours of sleep today. I dreamt I was in a house permeated with animal filth. I was upstairs in a room and didn't want to go through the downstairs because the dogs were loose. A man entered the room and said Sadie wanted to see me but I said no. He left and shortly afterward my daughter entered and said her mom wanted to see me. Again I refused but then my daughter said her mom needed to see me with some worried panic in her voice and eyes. Again, I refused and as I went down the stairs, I saw the man whom I then asked to restrain his dogs while I made my exit. He told me I had to see her before I go because she is sick and whatever it is is killing her. He then handed me a small white cloth and unfolded it in my hand to reveal part of her hand which flooded me in fearful confusion. I asked the man to show me to the front door and again insisted I leave but instead he took me to a kitchen where another man placed larger objects wrapped in cloth onto the table. I told the second man I was going to leave the cloth and contents I was holding with what he was laying out on the table and he said I could not leave until I spoke with her. I didn't understand how or why she desired to talk to me but I still refused and insisted I be allowed to leave. The man then set to cleaning some of the animal filth on the floor and my daughter called for me to come into an adjacent room. In the room, covered in a heap of blankets to hide her embarrassment was my kids' mom. When she said hello I told her I did not want to be there and did not care to see her. She said she knows, and nobody does, as she drew the blanket back to reveal her grotesquely swollen face and body. One of her eyes was stitched shut with some sort of fluid running out. She had one usable eye and struggled to speak. Parts of her were missing, including an entire leg all the way to her hip. She was not bandaged or protected and just lay bare, hurting. I asked her "What did you do?" But she reached out her one good hand. I looked at my daughter and looked back at her mother and reached out to let her grab my hand repeating the question "What did you do?" over and over until the guards voice over the intercom ignited my consciousness. Dreams often may have emotional or symbolic truths to them. I could not say for certain exactly what the dream means to me. I am sure it could mean a lot of things, but which are supposition, exaggeration, and some sort of truth are beyond me to decrypt. It is obviously not any kind of reality. I am sure the emotional reality of it is too complex for simple interpretation. Recreation is cut short for an "emergency count" before we are let out of our cells. Maybe I will get one call today?

I am awakened by the guards 1:00 rounds. It is uncomfortably humid, so much so that I wonder if I should have wrapped my TV and radio in plastic bags to protect them, but fear doing so now might just trap them with the humidity. Everything is sticky and gross. The paper I am writing on is limp and I keep most of my writing supplies put away. It will reduce the number of letters I send out, but I have developed a sore on my left elbow since I spend so much time on my elbows and knees dealing with my back pain. Fewer letters is probably a good thing for all the complaining I do. It is always best to rip up the letters before I seal them in an envelope. I feel quite adverse to a lot of what I write about and I hope what does make it to the recipients is weighed with a lot of sympathy. Never enough sleep and unpleasant conditions constantly work against me. Maybe if I contemplate ways to detect a Zacnetic field around the directional flow of radiant energy, then I might fall asleep again.