diary of sorts... from Costa Rica.

january 07.
This day is special. I have given upall hope of release through the system, reduction of charges, my age, my non-existant "criminal-history". I see this is all emptiness. The outside is november. ten more months. Today i accept this, I feel a song in my heart. I cannot feel upset over trifles when i have so much going for me, besides an ear-splitting gratitude for another sunrise.I hear the voice of Perry Como, crooning the marriage between love and hope. The music television seems to know i am watching, it'splaying only my favorites. The spanish have an aptitude to let it all go on the dance floor. The day i will return to my audience and my microphone is coming. I will survive these boiled eyes with empty unseeing visions of nothing but concrete walls, with steel-barred skylight for the next twenty or thirty or even fifty years. NOT ME!

january 17th.
Wednesday! Big interpenal football game. During the game, it will be my duty to hold on to the 20 grams of crack which the winners will receive. I will attend in my official capacity, but it is too nice a day to just sit and observe this organized mayham.
The game begins with a vicious kick-off; no referee.Back and forth inside the fenced perimeter of the playing field. As i watch the kicking, the intense running, the precise feet, i notice something else watching the game. Outside the fence is a medium sized brown and white dog intently enjoying the activity. Back and forth, this ecstatic canine followed the action from the fence. All things considered i prefer dogs to people.Man's best friend, better to say: Man's only friend, ever.
The harsh game continued at a brisk pace. to a draw! nothing to nothing. The male violence increased toplain violence. A fist fight broke out. The guards were called in to stop the struggle. The struggle for the contents of my pocket... All back inside. Football was cancelled, the game was called off, champions were chosen to square off and settle the bets, men to men. I did not watch the bout. it was decided to settle all bets with the fists. The dog will have to find his entertainment elsewhere.

March 2007
My hair is back to an acceptable length:my shoulders. The day before that god-awful day i tried to get to Amsterdam through Madrid, i was given a haircut! Those who know me, know the problems i have always had since i was an infant. My crowning glory grew forward,society decreed it brushed back... It matted, the powers in control of my destiny called it Nappy.
Now like Samson, my locks have returned to an acceptable length. I look fabulous! The beard will soon have a tint"just for men". I need a shampoo!

March 2007.
Disease, Disaster, Destruction. All hopes for Senior accomodations were crushed, through lies lies lies.They say i did not take advantage of the possibility of rehabilitation that was offered me, i made no contribution to the system, i have no family living in the united states to vouch for my parole... This is ridiculous! They are saying i have never taught an english class in jail (i have, every day, even to the guards!) They say i haven't followed the Aids and drugs rehabilitation classes (i have!) they even deny i have family living in Miami, in Tampa, in New York, in New Orleans. Absurd and so effective denials. My lament is i believed in Costa Rica, in the system. I really love this country. I am hurt! It is like a woman i love, who would lie and dismiss any emotional involvement i have with her. I sit and watch my students, my former illiterate students, now reading a newspaper, now writing letters to their family. I taught them how to read! How to write! The system denies these fantastic achievements.
Later, i learned that these luxury quarters are always denied to common people, they are reserved for the politicians and rich crooks, they knew this when i was planning and sending for my dog to join me there. Like Jesus. No room at the inn . Regulated to the stables. Now i can abandon this hope too. It was a lie, like so long ago when they gave me back my passport, lowered the charges against me. That night they caught me they told mesenior citizens were always automatically paroled, even before they told me i had the right to remain silent.
I would have dropped the dime on the folks who sent me, but automatic parole, that's different. i believed them, i pleaded guilty. It was all a lie.
I have said and written and sung beautiful things about costa Rica, and i will go on. But this Tica system is a lie. This is graduation day in the university of life.
I will stay in puntarenas until i leave, but i will be transferred to another section, i will be allowed to go out in the yard. A trustee. Wow!