Filling Space


August 3, 2014, 8:40 p.m.

My roommate has aspirations to become a M.M.A. fighter.  Would you like to know how I can tell?  Well.  Yesterday after a short flag, he came back in the cell and yelled, “You call that a workout?!” and promptly punched the wall.  Then the poor towel.

He’s an angry man.  Every time he hears someone breathing heavily on the weights that are just below us on the bottom tier, he rushes the 6 feet over to the bars to see what’s going on.  Always shirtless, he picks them apart.  Much like I’m doing right now, to avoid talking about my problems.  Yep, he’s a fuckin’ douche bag.

[A “Flag” is prison-speak for time outside the cell–to make phone calls, shower, or talk to a guard about some official business–usually 10-15 minutes.]

9:30 p.m.

Another weekend of boredom done.  With minimal staff, we have no work, no school, recreation, or activities.  Plenty of church available, though!  So I spend my weekends reading.  I have read quite a lot since I arrived in St. Cloud.  I have not gone much further than Tim Dorsey and Dean Koontz, but that is much broader a selection for me than before I got to prison.  I am almost to an average of a book a day at an average of 300 pages.  I think that’s pretty damn good.

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