<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524072440408000703</id><updated>2011-07-07T21:38:04.855-07:00</updated><category term='Answers to comments.'/><category term='abolition of death penalty'/><category term='Holiday wishes from the row'/><category term='health'/><category term='sickness'/><category term='awakening'/><title type='text'>Life in Xanadu</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Petit fleur</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626110471501778855</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SymUsAumKcI/AAAAAAAAAV4/k5tM9vX-44c/S220/petitrose.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524072440408000703.post-9105116817894713956</id><published>2010-02-27T07:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T07:07:58.808-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday wishes from the row'/><title type='text'>The Power of a hug</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/S4kv_f3zOdI/AAAAAAAAAY4/CT7E-UzSuOk/s1600-h/Handcuffed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/S4kv_f3zOdI/AAAAAAAAAY4/CT7E-UzSuOk/s320/Handcuffed.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;December 8th, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;Good day to all.&amp;nbsp; I want to share a little something with you.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; This year is coming to an end, and after all, I would have to say that this year has been a hard one.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Isolation can effect us in so many ways, and on so many levels, and sometimes we don't even realize how much until something happens that reminds us of who we are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;When I was out there in the free world, I thought I had a pretty good life.&amp;nbsp; I had pretty good friends, a good job, and like most of us, I took a lot of it for granted.&amp;nbsp; Especially the closeness of someone I really cared about, and how we hugged each other whenever wee would meet up.&amp;nbsp; How we expressed how much we cared.&amp;nbsp; That part of my life is almost non-existent now, (or it feels that way in isolation).&amp;nbsp; So I rarely ever get to hug or touch another human being anymore, unless someone comes to visit me.&amp;nbsp; In here you just don't do that.&amp;nbsp; The more emotion you display, the weaker you are portrayed&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;as&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt; a man.&amp;nbsp; As silly as that sounds, it is the reality we live in here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;I had a lovely visit a couple of days ago from a really good friend and her 4 year old son.&amp;nbsp; I was feeling really bad, and quite alone before their visit.&amp;nbsp; It's difficult to put into words my state of mind at the time, but two people I had known for many years passed away from cancer (a week prior to this visit).&amp;nbsp; That they both died of cancer is disturbing enough, (Cancer is the #1 cause of death on the row), but it was more they way everyone seemed to just take it all in stride, like, "Oh well", that really got my attention.&amp;nbsp; There was no moment of silence, no wake, no memorial service, no gathering of friends and family to send them off in some kind of dignified manner.&amp;nbsp; One day they were here, occupying a cell, and the next they were just gone.&amp;nbsp; And the runners (The clean up crew) were in there cells picking through their personal belongings... taking what they wanted of value, and tossing the rest into garbage bags.&amp;nbsp; No emotions.&amp;nbsp; No respect for whose property it was.&amp;nbsp; It was just garbage to them.&amp;nbsp; Then they prepare the cell for the next occupant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;These men who lived and died in these cells, I don't know how they ended up here.&amp;nbsp; I only know that they were human beings with families, wives, children, brothers, sisters, and they died... alone, without so much as a hug or a goodbye.&amp;nbsp; To most people in here it was so &lt;i&gt;routine,&amp;nbsp; &lt;/i&gt;It made me realize that we're all just waiting for the same fate.&amp;nbsp; How many of us sit here 10, 20, 30 years and never get a visit from anyone?&amp;nbsp; No human contact at all.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt; No hugs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;No holding someones hand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;No meaningful conversations&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;No sitting together and eating junk food with someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;No laughing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;The simple human gestures most of us take for granted everyday, just do not happen here.&amp;nbsp; It didn't really dawn on me until I was sitting there next to my friend, watching her incredibly happy son playing games, just how lucky I am to have someone in my life, who cares that much about me... That would go to such lengths to visit me and hug me and let me know I am loved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;I really needed that reminder that week.&amp;nbsp; I needed that human contact.&amp;nbsp; I was feeling really bad about the pressure of this environment and how vulnerable we really are in here.&amp;nbsp; I know in my heart that if something happened to me in here, that I would be missed a great deal.&amp;nbsp; But, sometimes I think about some of the men around me, who get no visits (and some, no mail either), or any human contact at all, and I wonder, "who if anyone will miss them"?&amp;nbsp; The truth is that people who used to care about them, love them, miss them, forgot about them long ago.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Most of the time, when someone back here passes away, I'm as much a part of the "it's routine" mentality as the next guy...&amp;nbsp; on the outside anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;I guess that most men back here would confess that it's much easier not to allow yourself to feel anything for anyone.&amp;nbsp; But we're not really built like that are we?&amp;nbsp; Because no matter how much we try to man up and hide our feelings from one another, when someone around us dies, all alone like that, it does effect us.&amp;nbsp; It effects each and every one of us, because we all know that next time, it could easily be any one of us... and that we are not as invincible as we act on the outside.&amp;nbsp; Even those of us who are really good at acting the part.&amp;nbsp; Normally, I'm as good as the next guy, but this past weekend, when I was playing word games and hide and seek and looking out the window with my friend and her son, I was reminded of just how much of a human being still exists inside me.&amp;nbsp; And how much I need and crave that human contact.&amp;nbsp; All it took was a simple hug from a child to remind me that I haven't lost sight of myself like so many men around me have.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;Most people in society would look at us and see cold uncaring remorseless individuals, but what they don't see, is that under the surface of each one, is a scared and helpless person who doesn't know any other way to be in this environment except to shut everyone and everything down inside and just survive.&amp;nbsp; I know how easy it is to go to that place.... but for the wonderful friends I have in my life who never allow me to forget how much I'm loved, that I matter, I could easily see myself there... walking around like a zombie.&amp;nbsp; I have been there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;I'm reminded with each letter and each visit how fortunate I am to get a hug or just hold someone's hand and hear those words, "I love you".&amp;nbsp; These simple gestures are what make us all human, in here and out there.&amp;nbsp; Like water, we also need physical contact, even if it's just a hug to remind us that we matter.&amp;nbsp; I'm so very grateful that I haven't lost sight of that part of me... and I haven't become the monster the system has portrayed me to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;Much peace and love, and a happy holiday wish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;BDW&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/S4kvwBiUgWI/AAAAAAAAAYw/TFN2p-FvmAA/s1600-h/hug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/S4kvwBiUgWI/AAAAAAAAAYw/TFN2p-FvmAA/s320/hug.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3524072440408000703-9105116817894713956?l=lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/feeds/9105116817894713956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3524072440408000703&amp;postID=9105116817894713956&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/9105116817894713956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/9105116817894713956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/2010/02/power-of-hug.html' title='The Power of a hug'/><author><name>Petit fleur</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626110471501778855</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SymUsAumKcI/AAAAAAAAAV4/k5tM9vX-44c/S220/petitrose.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/S4kv_f3zOdI/AAAAAAAAAY4/CT7E-UzSuOk/s72-c/Handcuffed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524072440408000703.post-3431872817358686765</id><published>2009-11-19T14:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T16:31:36.553-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Answers to comments.'/><title type='text'>Here I am.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SwXi0J6fcNI/AAAAAAAAAUE/JImYktobZms/s1600/hereiam_fs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SwXi0J6fcNI/AAAAAAAAAUE/JImYktobZms/s400/hereiam_fs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405976313370472658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Good day to all,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to first thank everyone for their patience.  I do understand that this is an especially unique way of communicating, and sometimes (because of my own situation) I'm not able to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;respond&lt;/span&gt; or post when I would like to.  I would also like to point out that this way of communicating, (on such a mass level) is very new to me.  When I was an outsider, (out there), they had not yet invented the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt;.  (Or so Al Gore claims).  No &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt;, no laptops, i-pods or cell phones.  So the only way I ever learned to communicate was either via phone or face to face.  I rarely ever wrote a letter when I was out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;there&lt;/span&gt;.  In fact, I don't ever recall writing one.  So, as you can imagine, this new age of communication is at the very least like a brand new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;shiny&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;toy&lt;/span&gt; on Christmas morning!  Or in adult terms, a God Send, to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;appreciate&lt;/span&gt; each and everyone of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;responses&lt;/span&gt; i get each time.  And these last one's are no less fantastic than the first ones.  Here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;LAURA&lt;/span&gt;--  Thank you for your concern about my health situation.  I wish I could tell you it has improved.  I've seen a doctor twice, but as yet have not been physically examined.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Each&lt;/span&gt; time I'm told that x-rays are scheduled, and I'll be seen soon....and the waiting list is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;looooong&lt;/span&gt;, etc..  Hopefully I will see someone and get some answers real soon.  When this happens (good or bad) you will know by my own post.  As far as what I like to draw, all kinds of things really.  My favorites I guess are both nature scenes and certain animals.  If it is possible, I'll post some of my art soon.  Thank you for asking.  I hope you are well Laura.  Much peace, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;BDW&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ZENGOOF&lt;/span&gt;-- You are correct in your comments about how the row is not where one generally expects "the truth" to come from.  But i think that is pretty much the truth for any level of incarceration and especially solitary confinement.  Anytime you toss a bunch of souls into a pen (from all walks of life) it is like placing them all in an arena at the same time.  The s&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;trong&lt;/span&gt; are going to prevail, and the weak will fade away into the shadows.  I guess what i mean to say here without taking up too much space is that it's really easy to walk into this place and pretend to be someone you are not.  If you throw 9 blue chips on the table and one white chip, then the white one will stand out the most.  So goes the same for personalities in here.  It's real easy to act the part of a bad ass, because everyone expects you to, or you become a target.  But it's really hard to walk in these doors as you are and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;retain&lt;/span&gt; that genuine personality and survive.  But in my mind, a real survivor is a man who stands fast no matter what life throws at him.  Someone who is unwilling to compromise his core beliefs and go with the flow.  Then he will survive no matter what.  my definition of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;survival&lt;/span&gt; may be different from yours.  I feel like in many ways, I've already survived the brunt of the storm.  It's so easy to put on an act when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; walk into this arena.  It's much harder to walk around in your own skin.  But if life has taught me anything, of value, it's that you can swim in a pond full of sharks, but you don't have to be one to survive.  you only need to remind yourself (constantly) that the sharks are trying to survive the only way they know how as well.  As for the truth.... you really have to reach far beyond this place not only to find it, but to "be" it.    The only way I know that to be even a possibility is to have people in your life that believe in you. You won't find that in here, unless you seek it within.  In here, the more colorful you are, the better your chances of fitting in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strength and determination are not qualities you can fabricate or buy off the canteen. You either have them, or you don't.  These &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;qualities&lt;/span&gt; are developed and refined through the most difficult periods of our lives, through our mentors, and the people we choose as friends.  I'm not any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;more&lt;/span&gt; unique than the next person.  I just refuse to be another statistic when i have a choice.   Much peace to you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Zengoof&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;BDW&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;MAY&lt;/span&gt;--Thank you very much for your comments about my last post.,  its sad to say, but the article you mentioned (you read in AZ) is very common in prisons.  Not only across America, but on a global level.  i remember when I first came here.  it was around this time of year, and the prison I was in had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;basically&lt;/span&gt; no windows, no heat, no AC.  It was infested with rats and cockroaches, ants and the building itself was well over 100 years old.  Then i eventually moved to a new facility designed for death row under the assumption that our living conditions would be better.  They were not.  There was still no heat in the winter and no A/C in the summer.  And like many other places across the country, we battled the inhumane conditions out in the federal court system, "and lost.  the only &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;compromise&lt;/span&gt; was an 8" fan in the summer which merely circulates the 100 degree temps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;agree&lt;/span&gt; with you that our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;judicial&lt;/span&gt; system is not meant to encourage &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;rehabilitation&lt;/span&gt;.  it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;designed&lt;/span&gt; to punish and keep on punishing.  Under the Clinton admin, a bill was passed called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; Death Penalty Reform Act.  In that bill many of the rehab programs that were in place (Not just D. Row, but population too) were eliminated.  We used to be able to finish school, go to Junior College, learn a trade, get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;counseling&lt;/span&gt;, and at least have the opportunity to prepare yourself to re enter society. Most of these opportunities are a thing of the past now.  The only education there is now is how to be a better criminal.  The system is not meant to rehabilitate, but to encourage recidivism.  Prison is an industry as much as an institution.  The more beds it fills, the more jobs it creates.  It is really sad that the true reality is that no matter what you are in prisoned for, nothing in your life that you did good counts for anything.  you are forever judged by what brought you to this place and in mainstream society, it's the general &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;consensus&lt;/span&gt; that you are no longer worthy of rehabilitation.  it's because most people are led to believe this.  Unless you personally know someone who is incarcerated or someone close to you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;knows&lt;/span&gt; someone, you rarely give this subject (or a more appropriate title, "human rights &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;issue&lt;/span&gt;") a second thought.  When you do become enlightened you feel as you so well put it: distrust, paranoia, and resentment in a system you were/are led to believe works to better a person who has made mistakes in life.  Thank you so much for your insights and concern.  I hope I hear more from you.  Much peace and best wishes to you, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;BD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;DEXTERDAMA&lt;/span&gt;--  You pose a really good question on how do I cope on a day to day bases.  It's one of the most difficult questions for me, and I've yet to be able to give a reasonably logical answer.  I am usually asked this question in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;person&lt;/span&gt; and my response is always the same.  "I cope because I have to"  My response works for me because I don't know how to answer that question in my own words without getting too emotional when asked in person.  Everyone here copes in their own way.  Most just simply accept that this is all life will ever be for them, and they simply surrender to the beast and become institutionalized- inside and out.  They eat, drink, sleep, breath this environment.  Most shed whatever part of their humanity they brought to this place.  I used to look at this as a sign of weakness, but I now know that it's the only way most people know how to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;survive&lt;/span&gt; under such extreme conditions.  For me, the reason i choose to take the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;different&lt;/span&gt; route and try to hold on to who I am verses becoming an institutionalized zombie , you would have to know where I come from.  (That would take a novel!)  But the short answer would be that from the moment I was born the odds have been very heavily stacked against me.  I've had to struggle and fight my whole life to survive... an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;as&lt;/span&gt; you can guess, this has been by far my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;toughest&lt;/span&gt; hurdle yet.  Just the thought of coming this far and giving up now , after fighting so hard to survive, and knowing that I have certain people in my life now who have sacrificed so much of themselves because they believe in me.  That alone is reason &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;enough &lt;/span&gt;for me to find a reason to wake up each day and take on whatever challenges await me.  But I also refuse to believe that for all the adversity in my life I've had to endure, that this is my reward.  How can anyone in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; right mind &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;believe&lt;/span&gt; that this is what (whomever they chose to hold these religious beliefs with/to)  their creator intended for them?  Religion is something I've struggled with all my life and something I'm not very comfortable discussing openly.  (It usually gets me into trouble :-)  I am in my own way very spiritual and it does help me cope with the day to day world in here.&lt;br /&gt;I really appreciate your curiosity /concern as to how i manage to access a sense of peace or joy in the midst of my reality.  Knowing that you are not forgotten and are still loved is a ray of light.  It's a constant reminder that this is NOT my reality, but a reality I'm forced to exist in for now.  I hope what little I've offered here &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt;helps&lt;/span&gt; to answer your question DD, and I hope to hear more from you in the future.&lt;br /&gt;Much peace, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"&gt;BD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;" id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3524072440408000703-3431872817358686765?l=lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/feeds/3431872817358686765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3524072440408000703&amp;postID=3431872817358686765&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/3431872817358686765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/3431872817358686765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/2009/11/here-i-am.html' title='Here I am.'/><author><name>Petit fleur</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626110471501778855</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SymUsAumKcI/AAAAAAAAAV4/k5tM9vX-44c/S220/petitrose.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SwXi0J6fcNI/AAAAAAAAAUE/JImYktobZms/s72-c/hereiam_fs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524072440408000703.post-3932171123641585707</id><published>2009-10-17T16:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T16:37:40.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'>STAY TUNED, NEW POST TO COME...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/StpSY4hlnTI/AAAAAAAAASU/JOaot75LvFY/s1600-h/sad-puppy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 380px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/StpSY4hlnTI/AAAAAAAAASU/JOaot75LvFY/s400/sad-puppy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393714091173190962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Greetings Everyone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all I want to say that this is &lt;a href="http://petitfleursadventures.blogspot.com/"&gt;Petit Fleur&lt;/a&gt; and not BD...  I have been totally overwhelmed and frazzled lately, and as a result, ave not kept up with BD's postings as well as I'd liked.  I am at least one post behind...  We also just had a great visit last Sunday and he told me that more are coming. He also asked me to pass along a message to all of you:&lt;br /&gt;        "Hello Everyone, Thanks so much for hanging in there.  I'll be back as soon as possible".     &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                                        --BD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize also that this is such a cumbersome process, but please please keep checking back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And welcome  to our newest member, J. I just discovered you on our member list.  Thanks for joining us in Xanadu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned everyone, and happy fall.&lt;br /&gt;Peace,&lt;br /&gt;pf&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;" id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3524072440408000703-3932171123641585707?l=lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/feeds/3932171123641585707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3524072440408000703&amp;postID=3932171123641585707&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/3932171123641585707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/3932171123641585707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/2009/10/stay-tuned-new-post-to-come.html' title='STAY TUNED, NEW POST TO COME...'/><author><name>Petit fleur</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626110471501778855</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SymUsAumKcI/AAAAAAAAAV4/k5tM9vX-44c/S220/petitrose.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/StpSY4hlnTI/AAAAAAAAASU/JOaot75LvFY/s72-c/sad-puppy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524072440408000703.post-1252934386291332536</id><published>2009-08-23T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T19:47:48.998-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='awakening'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sickness'/><title type='text'>Inside Xanadu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SpH6JixjVeI/AAAAAAAAALs/rZ12f1hQTJg/s1600-h/rainbow_trout_jumping_300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 329px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SpH6JixjVeI/AAAAAAAAALs/rZ12f1hQTJg/s400/rainbow_trout_jumping_300.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373350872290121186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Good Morning to all,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I hope you are all having a beautiful peaceful day.  it's 9:22am where I'm at, and I have to tell you that I'd rather be anywhere but in this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sweat box&lt;/span&gt; right now.  Even though it's early in the day, the temperature is 90+ in my cell.  By 1 or 2pm, it will reach or exceed 100 degrees.  My only &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;reprieve&lt;/span&gt; is an 8" fan that does nothing more than to circulate the hot dry air, that by the way, is recycled.  So it not only is it hot, it smells bad, and you don't even have to move around in here to before you begin to sweat.  It feels a lot like you just worked a double shift at a greasy spoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On death row, (or at least where I'm at) you're only allowed three showers per week.  (Mon, Wed &amp;amp; Fri)  The rest of the 4 days, you're forced to improvise, get creative and maintain your personal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hygiene&lt;/span&gt; in any way you can.  This can be comical at best. I call my "method" a bird bath.  I sit on the toilet and pour cool water over the top of me.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; this doesn't make for appealing reading, but if you want to know who I am, then you need to know where I am, and what my life here is like. This is who and where I am right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I want to share some thing else with you all that I prefer to call a "reality check".  For the most part, I've always been a pretty healthy guy.  I exercise religiously, and for my age, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; in better physical shape than most guys half my age, (not only here, but out there as well). Not much in this world causes me to feel much fear.  I can tell you some pretty wild brutal stories that molded me into the fearless person I am today, but there are hidden fears in this world that have brought some of the most powerful, strongest, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;wealthiest&lt;/span&gt; men and women to their knees.  I'm talking about the "C" word.  You would think that where I live, the biggest cause of death would be execution, but that's not the case.  The biggest cause of death here is cancer.  I've been here for 19 years now, and twice as many men have died of cancer than any other cause.  I personally know of 15 people in the last 10 years who have either already passed away from cancer or who are now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;receiving&lt;/span&gt; treatment for it.  So when I started to notice and feel changes taking place in my own body, I started to get a little concerned.  At first that they were little subtle changes and I just assumed it was the change in my diet. (Most DOC budgets have taken enormous hits because of each state's recession.  The areas hardest hit are the food dept. and medical dept.)  The food itself hasn't changed, there's just a lot less of it.  These changes in my body have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;gradually&lt;/span&gt; become worse over a 2 month period of time, until my concern let me to consult my best friend out there.  I'm not convinced it's the big "C" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; as of yet, I haven't seen a qualified doctor.  That's not why I'm telling you all of this though.  I'm telling you this because regardless of what the outcome is, it's forced me to pay closer attention, and realize that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; just as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;vulnerable&lt;/span&gt; ans &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;susceptible&lt;/span&gt; to these situations as the next man. No matter how physically strong or healthy I thin I am. I have so many wonderful dreams that I still want to achieve in my life.  So many places I still want to see.  Places, people and things that I think about and dream about every day in here.  I've never been afraid &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;of&lt;/span&gt; dying.  It's something we will all face and have to come to terms with one day, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; scared to death that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;I'll&lt;/span&gt; never get to really live. You only exist in a place like this, but you always dream, telling yourself that "one day" you will get your freedom and be able to resume your life.  I don't feel like I've really ever had that chance yet.  There have been so many &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;obstacles&lt;/span&gt; in my path, so much chaos, and right now I'm a little scared that another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;obstacle&lt;/span&gt; could be lurking in the dark somewhere. ~ Just beyond my vision. And it's situations like this that teach us just how fragile life is, and can be.  My best friend, bless her heart, is the ultimate optimist, and I could not have confided in anyone else but her about this fear.  Even if it turns out to be something minor &amp;amp; curable, it was/is still a wake up call for me.  It's reminds me that this prison has many more faces than the gates, bars and fences that hold me here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will of course keep you up dated as I go through the process of trying to figure out what is going on with me medically.  You can't just pick up a phone and make an appointment for the doctor in here.  There's a much slower process you have to deal with.  As of yet, I've not gotten word of when I'll see a doctor.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;One&lt;/span&gt; more think you might want to know is that "general population" and "death row" are treated differently.  We here on the row are already &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;sentenced&lt;/span&gt; to die, so our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;medical&lt;/span&gt; needs and concerns are not as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;big&lt;/span&gt; of a priority as someone with an actual release date.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I have lots more to say, but for now, I'll just say that I really appreciate you all listening to me.  What I write here is personal, yes, but it is also about awareness.  I don't want to come off as a complainer, because but for the grace of 'whomever" is in charge, I could be writing from some 3rd world country where conditions are a hundred times worse than where I am.  I welcome and appreciate any questions or feedback on what I wrote here.  If you want to know more about me (not just the death row inmate title), please feel free to ask.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Much much peace to your all,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;BD&lt;/span&gt; Winslow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3524072440408000703-1252934386291332536?l=lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/feeds/1252934386291332536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3524072440408000703&amp;postID=1252934386291332536&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/1252934386291332536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/1252934386291332536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/2009/08/inside-xanadu.html' title='Inside Xanadu'/><author><name>Petit fleur</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626110471501778855</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SymUsAumKcI/AAAAAAAAAV4/k5tM9vX-44c/S220/petitrose.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SpH6JixjVeI/AAAAAAAAALs/rZ12f1hQTJg/s72-c/rainbow_trout_jumping_300.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524072440408000703.post-4745977170517294452</id><published>2009-08-17T18:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T20:14:24.205-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abolition of death penalty'/><title type='text'>Some thoughts, and some answers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SooKN3oHi0I/AAAAAAAAALU/2pzVNO5Nokk/s1600-h/prison-bars_%7Ek0230577.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 333px; height: 375px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SooKN3oHi0I/AAAAAAAAALU/2pzVNO5Nokk/s400/prison-bars_%7Ek0230577.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371116738979531586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Good afternoon to everyone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope its a bit cooler where you all are.  I believe it's hovering around the 100 degree mark here in my cell today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I deeply apologize to all of you who have responded to my lasts blogs, and have patiently waited for my next one.  Again I do not personally have access to a computer, so the process takes quite a bit more time than normal.  I greatly appreciate your patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I answer some of my responses to you, I want to share something with you that I found a couple of days ago.  It's one of those things where some one lets too much power go to their head.  This is the case with Connecticut's Governor Jodi &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Rell&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On March 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; in Connecticut, the "Judiciary Committee" had a hearing on the death penalty, and recommended abolition.  On March 31, by a vote of 24 to 13, a bill was drafted (Bill-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;HB&lt;/span&gt;-G578).  This bill was then debated by the House and passed on May 13&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; by a majority of 90-56.  The bill passed the Senate, where it was passed 19-17 votes on May 22&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;.  BUT, Governor Jodi &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Rell&lt;/span&gt;, made it clear that she would veto the bill.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Never mind&lt;/span&gt; that every one else seen the need to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;abolish&lt;/span&gt; the death penalty in this state.  She alone decided it was not going to happen, even if it means the tax payers will continue to pay for something that the majority of them don't want any longer.  This is a clear example of how you can entrust some people with way too much power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Virginia, Governor Kaine vetoed a bill that would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; expanded the death penalty to include &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;accomplices&lt;/span&gt; to murder, and to those who kill on duty fire &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Marshal's&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;auxiliary&lt;/span&gt; police officers.  He also vetoed a bill that would have made it easier to purchase and carry guns.  The Senate failed to over ride the vetoes.  So on one side of the coin, the law makers wanted to expand the reach of the death penalty to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;various&lt;/span&gt; crimes (violent crimes), and on the flip side, they want to pass laws to make it easier for people to purchase and carry guns.  Does anyone else see anything wrong with this picture?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;On to answering responses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To: Cesar R &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Klinger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-- Cesar, thank you for your words of appreciation.  I can not personally visit your site, but my friend can send me print outs.  I would very much like to know more about you and your site/blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To: Ms Moon-&lt;/span&gt;- Thank you for reading my blog and I hope you will keep reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Zengoof&lt;/span&gt;--&lt;/span&gt;  I appreciate the respect you have for me and my situation.  I could have gone further and explained that capital punishment is arbitrarily applied, and maybe I should have.  Most tax payers don't even realize the power a judge alone has in interpreting the law when it comes to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;capital&lt;/span&gt; cases... "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;especially&lt;/span&gt; when it comes to jury recommendations".  It is in my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;opinion&lt;/span&gt;, another example of someone abusing their power for their own personal convictions/beliefs.  I really appreciate all of your feed back, and look forward to hearing more from you.  I know it is harder to see quiet as peace out there, as opposed to in here, but I would certainly welcome the madness and distractions of every day life.  Even after 19 years on the row, I still miss all that.  It's a different kind of peace in here my friend.  In here it is borrowed peace.  You can feel it one second, and the next it's gone.  you can't run from the chaos and all the noise.  Where I found most of my peace, is in my memories, or the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;friendships&lt;/span&gt; I've been fortunate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;enough&lt;/span&gt; to forge over the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;years&lt;/span&gt; with people on the outside.  They &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;constantly&lt;/span&gt; remind me that I'm still alive and not just another statistic.  Much Peace, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;BD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To: Lady Lemon--  &lt;/span&gt;Thank you for your comments.  Sometimes when I think about some of the things I write about this place I'm in, I still can't fully grasp the reality of it all.  When I was "out there" as a free man, I never really considered my stance/opinions on the death penalty.  i know the streets fairly well, yet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;until&lt;/span&gt; I became a capital defendant, i simply can't remember ever hearing much of anything concrete about the death penalty, other than it existed.  Looking back now, I don't consider that I was ignorant, but like most of society, I was kept in the dark as to how it was applied and to whom.  you mentioned the prisons being so over crowded because of non-violent &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;drug&lt;/span&gt; offenders.  I agree with you that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; is a serious malfunction in the prison system.  The feds figured this out a couple of years ago, and they let a lot of drug offenders out.  I don't recall any states &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;adopting&lt;/span&gt; their methods though.  But you have to keep one thing in mind when you consider how there's so much over crowding in every state in the country.  It is a billion dollar industry.  It is in many towns and cities, the largest employment opportunity.  Between the federal system and the state prisons, there are over 1.5 million prisoners locked up in America.  I'd say at least 60% of them are for non-violent crimes.  Even though I've been in the belly of this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;humongous&lt;/span&gt; beast for all these years, like you, I still have a great deal to learn about it.  Thank you so much for your comments and I hope to hear more from you!&lt;br /&gt;Peace, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;BD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To: Spiral Dancer--&lt;/span&gt;  Yes it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; to pose what you did about Orwell.  (I'm guessing your referring to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;George&lt;/span&gt; Orwell.  I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;reading&lt;/span&gt; 1984 now)  When people vote for the death penalty, I don't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;think&lt;/span&gt; the vast majority really stop and think "too deeply" about the mechanics of it.  How it is applied, who it's reserved for and most of all, that they're voting to kill/murder/execute &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;another&lt;/span&gt; human being.  One that could easily be their brother, sister, mother, father, cousin, uncle or some one they grew up with.  Or that despite this one mistake they made, or were accused of making, they were /are some one's son/daughter with souls and human abilities most people never get to see.  I've met some pretty gruesome men on the row over the years, but the vast majority of the men I've come to know, despite their crimes, are just every day normal human beings that sit in a cell for 20-30 years an&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;d waste&lt;/span&gt; away.  Their true &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;characters&lt;/span&gt; are never seen, their dreams are never realized and the only thing that is remembered about them, is not any good they ever did, but the worst thing they ever did/or were accused of doing.  So it is easy for someone to say "I'm for the death penalty", when the human aspect is eliminated from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;equation&lt;/span&gt;.  Can you tell me which Orwell book you quoted from?&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for your sharing and support.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;BD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3524072440408000703-4745977170517294452?l=lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/feeds/4745977170517294452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3524072440408000703&amp;postID=4745977170517294452&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/4745977170517294452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/4745977170517294452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/2009/08/some-thoughts-and-some-answers.html' title='Some thoughts, and some answers'/><author><name>Petit fleur</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626110471501778855</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SymUsAumKcI/AAAAAAAAAV4/k5tM9vX-44c/S220/petitrose.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SooKN3oHi0I/AAAAAAAAALU/2pzVNO5Nokk/s72-c/prison-bars_%7Ek0230577.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524072440408000703.post-4619825007017112273</id><published>2009-05-20T07:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T16:39:10.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Freedom's just another word...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/ShQY4LBnyUI/AAAAAAAAAF0/fPVAqbRfs6k/s1600-h/soaring+eagle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 373px; height: 285px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/ShQY4LBnyUI/AAAAAAAAAF0/fPVAqbRfs6k/s400/soaring+eagle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337918811652213058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Good day to all who take the time to visit my little island, Xanadu. It's a beautiful day outside today. I woke up around 4:30 am to a commotion outside my window. it was a pair of sparrows flirting and chasing each other around. Oblivious to the sleeping humans on the other side of the window screen. They playfully filled the early morning air with their little voices, while we shamelessly invade so much of their world &amp;amp; space... Why should they care about us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what I want to talk a little bit about today. The freedom to exist, and censorship. They are kind of like yin and yang. here in America, the word freedom is interpreted in so many different ways, with so many conditions attached. Do you really ever enjoy the unconditional right of freedom? What about freedom of expression, or speech? How often are you criticized openly or behind your back for being different in how you express yourself? Freedom is a real tricky word. It has so many different sizes and shapes to it... and in most instances, it fits into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; everyday life. But there are also many walks of life where freedom is interpreted in a negative way. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;could&lt;/span&gt; write a book (or two!) on this subject. Instead, I just want to share a little something I wrote from my own personal experiences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Between Times&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting here in the dark, just before the dawn, the stillness of the night soothes my weary soul.&lt;br /&gt;It is here in these moments between dusk and dawn where my anxieties and fears are asleep with the rest of the chaos that engulfs the brutal little space I am forced to exist in every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit here in the darkness of my tomb, alone with my thoughts. Free to allow them to run rampant and undetected. My cell front is open and I am constantly on display, much like a mannequin in a storefront window--- exposed to anyone who may walk past. And they do, every 15 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each soul that passes by, has it's own unique opinion or assumption about who/what I am and yet they haven't a single clue of where I came from or what really brought me to this display case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each cell is like it's own little piece of art. They all tell a different story. And each exhibit is judged and criticized and on display for anyone who passes by each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The true depth of each soul and their unique characters are never revealed. They are constantly smothered beneath a blanket of hatred and accusation and cold assumption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is only in these between times, the hours between dusk and dawn where most of the lights are out, that I am able to meditate and relax my mind. I can allow my spirit to soar and my imagination to contemplate what might have been and what still could be. My mantras run wild and free, soaring across the deep blue skies in the early morning breeze where there is still a blanket of dew covering most of mother earth and the smell of freedom fills you up inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see, feel and sense all that I long for surrounding me as I meditate and allow my soul to slip through these bars and flex my imagination before the clock strikes 6 and the noise of the keys in the doors jar me back to reality and a place where I can no longer be myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is time to put on my dull mask and act the part I am forced to play in this unrelenting game of cat and mouse. The lights are on now, let the judging begin. Just fake a smile and maybe they will move on to the next exhibit. For they do not know any better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until we cross paths again, I bid you peace and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt; that you enjoyed my ramblings and whatever you define as freedom. I have to go now, and play my part.&lt;br /&gt;Blessings,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;BD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3524072440408000703-4619825007017112273?l=lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/feeds/4619825007017112273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3524072440408000703&amp;postID=4619825007017112273&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/4619825007017112273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/4619825007017112273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/2009/05/good-day-to-all-who-take-time-to-visit.html' title='Freedom&apos;s just another word...'/><author><name>Petit fleur</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626110471501778855</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SymUsAumKcI/AAAAAAAAAV4/k5tM9vX-44c/S220/petitrose.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/ShQY4LBnyUI/AAAAAAAAAF0/fPVAqbRfs6k/s72-c/soaring+eagle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524072440408000703.post-2189775353079382941</id><published>2009-05-19T20:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T15:45:18.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Capital punishment--- A black hole</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/ShOIiUlgtfI/AAAAAAAAAFc/QVsa1595mjA/s1600-h/black-hole.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 383px; height: 346px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/ShOIiUlgtfI/AAAAAAAAAFc/QVsa1595mjA/s320/black-hole.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337760106587141618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Good day to everyone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that those of you who visited "Inside Xanadu" in February have been patiently waiting for my next post, and i greatly appreciate your patience.  I mentioned in the last post, circumstances are such that I can not always respond as promptly as I may wish to, but I promise I will try to do so in a reasonably short time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have enjoyed the responses that I got from my first post.  Some of them I can mention now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;--Cali in Columbia,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I appreciate your feed back.  This is new to me, but I have a great deal to say.  I would like to hear more from you and see what your blog is all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thanks also to PF for your feeback&lt;/span&gt;, and yes it does make each person a bit colder to participate in a state sanctioned execution.  I know that I may very well offend and even anger some people by that statement, but it's not my intention to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most people in general have no idea what it really entails to execute another human being.  It's easy to sit back and say I'm for capital punishment, but what if performing an execution were like jury duty? ---What if your state government sends you a notice to appear and to participate in an execution?   ---It's not really that different than admitting you are in support for capital punishment.   What if the condemned was a relative or close friend?  ---I know that most supporters of capital punishment believe in the "Eye for an eye" thing, but what does that really mean?  ---Do we really believe that God or Jesus meant that we should kill each other for renvenge or justice?  When a human being is executed, is there really closure?  Or satisfaction?  ---I do not mean any disrespect to anyone who may read this who may be a victim or relative of a victim.  I can never begin to understand your pain or loss, but like you and everyone else, these questions are constantly part of my everyday life.  I am only seeking answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few legitimate facts about the cost of capital punishment.  For each man or woman who is sentenced to death in America, from the time they are arrested till their execution date, it is costing, on average, 3.5 million dollars per individual.  If you factor in that there are close to 3500 people on death row in America, we're talking close to 11 billion dollars!  And, ironically, only a very small percentage of that 3500 will actually be executed by the state.  Many will have reduced sentences or die in prison before their execution date.  (Many die of cancer)  And the tax payers will have paid at least 10x more to house each person on death row than if they were sentenced to life without parole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Mexico Governor, Bill Richardson signed into law on March 19th (or there abouts) a bill to abolish capital punishment in NM because it costs his tax pyers too much money to keep capital punishment on the books.  As we speak, 10 other states are considering the same action, and Texas, of ALL STATES is among the 10 in question!  New Jersey also abolished the death penalty in 2008 for some of the same reasons.  (Cost and lack of quantifiable evidence that captial punishment is a deterrant).  States like Maryland and Kansas both have bills in their state legislature to also abolish the death penalty.  I believe Maryland is in the final stages, only waiting for the governor's signature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this information leads to one clear and obvious conclusion--- Capital punishment costs too much money and energy to continue.  Money and energy that an be used in other more positive ways for our communities, like education and recreational programs for children and youths.  To keep capital punishment alive for the states that have it, functions more as a political trophy than a meaningful crime deterrant.  It's a beast that just sits idle and eats up huge chunks of money and energy and adds to the quotient of suffering in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As always, I pray that my questions and opinions are not offensive or hurtful to anyone who may read them.  I'm just another human being trying to find my way through a very confusing and divided world.   I appreciate any of your feed back or questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much peace,&lt;br /&gt;BD Winslow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3524072440408000703-2189775353079382941?l=lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/feeds/2189775353079382941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3524072440408000703&amp;postID=2189775353079382941&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/2189775353079382941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/2189775353079382941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/2009/05/capital-punishment-black-hole.html' title='Capital punishment--- A black hole'/><author><name>Petit fleur</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626110471501778855</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SymUsAumKcI/AAAAAAAAAV4/k5tM9vX-44c/S220/petitrose.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/ShOIiUlgtfI/AAAAAAAAAFc/QVsa1595mjA/s72-c/black-hole.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524072440408000703.post-7753985235685394040</id><published>2009-02-15T13:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T15:46:37.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to Xanadu</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SZjAG3m7gMI/AAAAAAAAAEc/Plh_UJagMcA/s1600-h/xanadu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 364px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SZjAG3m7gMI/AAAAAAAAAEc/Plh_UJagMcA/s320/xanadu.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303199785467740354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Most of you who are reading this blog have no idea or clue about the world that I'm going to introduce you to.  It's the world I live in, and have lived in for close to two decades now.    I live  in a prison, on death row.  I have a dual purpose goal in creating this blog.  First, I want more than anything to have a voice outside my world. (My "space" consists of a 6x9 cell 24/7/365).  Second, I want to raise awareness in the outside world about the inside world, my world, which few people know about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people may say to themselves, things like:&lt;br /&gt;"Why should I care about such a world, where criminals dwell?"&lt;br /&gt;"I didn't put them there,  I'm not responsible for what happens to them now."&lt;br /&gt;"What good would it do if I did care?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would be surprised.  Capital punishment is a world that very few people in society truly understand.  What many think is that it's supposed to be reserved for the worst of the worst criminals in America.  (As well as in those other countries who still practice capital punishment)   Where I live there are men from all walks of life.  Yes there are some men on the row who actually qualify for capital punishment status, but the cruel reality is that 9 out of every 10 men and women on America's death rows, do not fit the criteria for what capital punishment was designed for.   But like any beast, it needs to be fed to sustain it's livelihood.  So, instead of having a system that works, 38 of our state governments end up warehousing condemned men and women for upwards of 20 years, which costs millions of dollars per inmate per year. By raising awareness about my world, I hope to also shed some light on how your tax dollars are being spent.  Because unless you have a close friend or family member on death row, how would you really know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Across the nation, many state governments are struggling to find ways to keep their economies above water.  They're having to cut unknown millions or even billions from their budgets.   Take California for instance, they have considered  (very seriously I might add), issuing IOUs instead of giving the residents their tax refund checks!   California is only 1 of 38 states that have this same problem, funding capital punishment.  One of the ways they are attempting to solve this problem is by taking money from other important community projects to fund  capital punishment.  A system that doesn't even work!  This makes no sense.  The death penalty seems to serve no real purpose.  It's not a deterrent, and keeping with the California example, it costs millions each year to feed the beast (An estimated 400 million per year).  And this beast has been draining their economy for the past 19 years!  You do the math.  I'm saying that you can still keep the death row population locked up for just as long under a life sentence... for a fraction of the cost per person.  So, why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, as you can see, I went off on a rant about something I'm very passionate about.  And it's not just because I'm on death row myself, I promise you.  It is my hope that with what little I have shared with you today, I can open up a few minds (or many hopefully) and we can create some really good dialogue here.  I'm open to any questions you may have, not only concerning death row, but whatever else comes to mind.  I intend to be as much of an open book as I can be.  There are a few locked doors though; 1)  I can not provide my true identity for safety reasons 2) For legal reasons, I can not talk about why I am here.   I can only say that I don't belong here.  And like many others on the row, there is more to me than where I live.  There's more to each person on the row than the crime(s) they've been accused or convicted of.  We're all human beings just like you, and I'll bet there's a whole lot more to you than the worst thing you've ever done or been accused of.... us too.  (I hope that makes sense)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With any luck, I have sparked some interest and will get some responses.  I'd like to chat some more.  It feels good to have a voice and someone to listen to what I have to say.  For anyone who would like to learn more about me, please feel free to leave your feedback.  I will do my best to answer all questions.  I do not have computer access, so my responses will take a week or two before they are posted.  I pray you will be patient.  And for those who do respond to my message, I thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace and blessings,&lt;br /&gt;BD Winslow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3524072440408000703-7753985235685394040?l=lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/feeds/7753985235685394040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3524072440408000703&amp;postID=7753985235685394040&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/7753985235685394040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3524072440408000703/posts/default/7753985235685394040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeinxanadu.blogspot.com/2009/02/welcome-to-xanadu.html' title='Welcome to Xanadu'/><author><name>Petit fleur</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626110471501778855</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SymUsAumKcI/AAAAAAAAAV4/k5tM9vX-44c/S220/petitrose.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7eDdpe2Arho/SZjAG3m7gMI/AAAAAAAAAEc/Plh_UJagMcA/s72-c/xanadu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
