Ruby...

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I'm writing a series of posts/blogs that will ultimately frame the events of my last marriage, frame -up/incarceration, and shooting with historical events contextual to slavery in this country... Let me pause here and give some recommended reading: one of the most harrowing and insightful novels I've read in a long time...

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A Manifest

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I am going to talk I've been back to prison for parole revocations twice now, because I was upfront, vocal, and honest about why I first went to prison in 2013. Simply put, I went because my ex-wife Dominique made false claims of domestic violence against me. Claims that began falling apart as my case progressed. However, in the middle of my marital turmoil, I made attempts at reconciling with Dominique, despite the fact of being barred from interacting with her by automatic protection order. That love-blind decision came back to bite my behind when, as her hoax began to unravel, the DA salvaged her prosecution by filling 19 cases of misdemeanor violation of protection order. I was literally facing an unprecedented 19 years in the county jail. It seemed improbable, if not absurd, until another local defendant made news being sentenced to an unprecedented county jail sentence of over 10 years. Long story short, I took a deal for an "open" sentence, expecting proba
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Red line, and other pains

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When I found myself back in prison, nearly two decades removed from my first bid,  I had to struggle with the humiliation of recidivism. For 3 years, anger, depression, and despair were constant companions that I grappled with behind bars. More formidable they were than any of the concrete, razor wire, inmates, or guards combined. Difficult was the loss of a relationship that I truly thought was going to be my last - and with a person I had considered to be my soulmate. How my then marriage had degenerated into an orgy of insanity and lies is something I've yet to begin to explain.
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About This Dream...

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The Universe always speaks and sometimes we are given a brief ability to listen. Tonight, I got a message… It was actually a 3-part message that culminated tonight. The first part was sent earlier today – I was in a meeting with a community-based organization and one of the ladies there shook my hand and remarked how soft my skin was. No biggie except that everyone in the office rolled with laughter as I stood there embarrassed – I mean, I’m a pretty manly dude (I think), heck, even a fighter, so I don’t imagine having soft hands, not the kind that get remarked on. Now let’s backtrack a bit to several months ago, while I was in prison. I got an online generated message from an old friend, “Rose” (not her real name), totally out of the blue.   Rose and I really don’t know each other but we have been friends for nearly 20 years. We have never met face to face or even had a direct conversation. We met originally on a couple religious message boards run by MSN, way back when,
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