WHAT CAN I SAY I have spent countless hours trying to discern the positive aspects of prison. I have found very little outside the fact they tend to keep violent people locked away from society. Considering there are some people whom desire to feed off society... some facility must be standing between the innocents and violence...   Department of Corrections. A most interesting concept born obviously towards some goal of bringing corrections to societies wayward indivivuals. This concept of corrections does seem lost. The department in many states had turned into an industry of big money, big politics, big taxes, and very little corrections.   Myself, the state had no intentions of correcting the behavior for which I was convicted. The State of Arizona has every intention of someday executing me and my little brother. Oh, they will do it if the higher courts don't interfere. They will execute your convicted body without a blink. Without a thought. Depending totally on the words, statements, and opinions of others.   Sometimes people are wrong. Mistakes happen. Sometimes people actually care about the mistakes. Often not...   I've been asked to reflect upon life in prison. What in the world can I say about this life which would be of interest. I can't tell you about the trees, birds, or desert which is blossoming outside my window. I don't have a window. Actually I've not seen a tree, a bird, or a blade of grass since September 3, 1997. I have not had the sun shine on my flesh since September 3, 1997. I have not had a hot cup of coffee, or a cold drink since 1997. My brother lives a few feet away, I've not touched him since 1997.   They took away the hobbycraft in 1997 so I can't reflect upon the paintings I'm painting. Actually I am locked in a 7'X 9' cell 24 hours everyday. (One hour out per day is a myth) I'm stripped searched and handcuffed everytime I leave this little box. These people act like I am a violent individual. Nope. I am a model inmate. I'm just caught up in a political system where each official tries to make life more difficult than the last official.   So what? After all I am a convicted murderer whom is slotted to face legal execution. Guilty they claim though I suppose it depends on whom you ask. So what? Ain't too many people asking. What can I say. This is prison at it's best and/or worst. Again I suppose it depends upon whom you ask.   I am not sure what I'm to write about this place. After a while the memory starts to play tricks on the mind. The past starts to get confused, has a feeling like it might have been a dream or maybe not. You know certain events in life happened but the feeling is a little dreamy. After a while without any new memories or new activity its wasy to realize yourself re-thinking the same old events of life. Sometimes its easy to question whether an event is actually real or just something you were thinking about.   The drone of each day passes slowly as half frozen honey. However, next think you realize a week has passed, then a month and another month, then years have slipped away before your eyes as slow as honey, as fast as a blink. It's something of a paradox. Its insane most of the time I think. After some time its like walking a line between insanity and sanity. Its frightening when I don't always know which side of the line I tread.   Everybody deals with things different. Myself I struggle to keep myself from slipping into the abyss of nothingness. I've seen others slip off the ledge of reality to which some of us cling. I think the natural convicts deal with it by acting like convicts and running the same old games.   Late at night it is quiet here. Deathly quiet without any pun intended. I have heard nightmares become reality at 3:00 am when some tormented soul starts to scream in his dreams, cry in his sleep, wake up gasping for air. I wondered what such a dream was about. I am leery of the nights and what dreams cause me to awake with a tear stained pillow and scratches on my legs. What un-remembered nightmare had I had. Did I scream aloud? Did someone hear me cry?   What can I say that's interesting? I suppose it depends on whom you ask.... Until next time I bid you farewell.