And that’s the hard part about being here. It’s seeing all the waste – in fact, it’s being a part of it – and sitting here as more and more negative thoughts about yourself, choices made, your life, whatever bubble up and claim a place in your consciousness. I think it’s fair to say I’m in a funk and the scary thing is I’ve about run out of options to ward them off. I read every book I can get my hands on. I’m actually starting to exercise too much because I’m no longer giving my body time to recover.
I now see a lot of what runs through my mind as an observer, as someone tuning in to see what’s up with Jan. I’ve come to view a lot of the negativity as truly not me and in the long run I sense that will be a tremendous positive. It’s the mindfulness that allows you to evaluate thoughts before they become actions. Perhaps I’ll use it to drown out a lot of behaviors that do not serve me.
For some reason Dallas has formed an attachment and now wants to confide in me about his case. I don’t really want to get involved but I’ve also found that taking a moment to help someone is really a positive boost. It wipes out negative feelings almost immediately. It also serves as a tremendous source of humor.
Dallas has come to the conclusion that he could get a better deal with federal prosecutors rather than the county. Dallas is here on a murder charge. If you remember he “allegedly” shot a gang member who was trying to shoot at him and his girlfriend. Of course the million dollar question is why he had the gun in the first place. But Dallas is now going through the phone book looking for a number to the White House. His reasoning: If he threatens the President, the feds will come and get him.
Of course that’s certainly true, but he can’t seem to grasp that that charge will be in addition to, rather than instead of, his murder trial.
I know I wish he’d stop saying, “Hey, Adams, pimping ain’t easy,” pretty much because I don’t have a clue what it means. Dallas certainly isn’t a pimp. He actually is so young he looks like he ran away from home.
My new bunky, Niko, is working quite well. To demonstrate my stupidity, I thought he was Mexican. And while he is from Mexico, he’s actually an Indian, a descendent of the Aztecs, and Spanish is in fact a second language for him – one that he’s working on now; which explains the dictionary he keeps with him.
At any rate, he’s clean, mannerly, and not likely to snap at any moment like the rest of these knuckleheads.
I took the time today to talk with Casey about his plans. He’s quite an artist, but drawing people’s girlfriends isn’t going to translate into a job. And since he’s been here for the last eight years, it’s not going to be easy. Just imagine the explosion in electronics since Y2K. It actually will be amazing just to watch him adjust. Perhaps there’s a reality show in that.
But Solano County is a reality show, and the most real portion of it is that people just keep coming back.