“Is life so dear & peace so sweet that it can be purchased for the price of chains & slavery? Forbide it not almighty God, as for me, give me liberty or give me death”
- Patrick Henry
“A new social order based on liberty unrestricted by man made law”
- Emma Goldman, a definition of anarchy.
Happy belated Independence Day. I hum Vic Chestnut (truly a profound American). I sit baking in the sun. 9:30am ish in the Oshkosh yard. George is next to me working on his entry. He is without a doubt a super sidekick & perfect tour guide. Hold on to your hats.
I figure prison-liberty-the concepts of love, death, marriage & insanity shall be my guidelines. Milestones. Stumbling blocks. Walked 2.5 miles barefoot. My blisters have left me so now I enjoy grass, sand, mud, stones & warnings of diseases in the ground.
3 pelicans are soaring above & a shit-ton of seagulls nag for food. Since the yard is shaped as an odd oval, on your back watching the clouds come in after 6pm, a dome affect happens. Rather beautiful-comforting. Last night a huge rainbow, distractions to our lives, our questions. Mine of liberty – what defines liberty? Freedom?
Were all trapped – does it matter by whom? A lover – a friend – a criminal – the state.
My regrets are simple. I let down my son in the worst time of his life & broken the hearts of friends & (good – terrific, the best of) family. Though I’m ok & you, too, it’s the distance, the barriers, the time. The never never going back. Forward. The grinding beginning. I won’t back down but I approach humble & with love. Yes, even in prison, my words can be my only offerings to you - my freedom – my liberty; the shoes I walk in. In prison they say you have 100 decisions. On the outside, 1000. Here, unless we work, we don’t cook, wash dishes, laundry, etc. Whether to sleep or read, write or walk – those are major decisions. So our major decisions should be in our behavior- our words – our actions. Some choose to. Some not. What I can say is I’m writing to you & your reading & we’re together. Though perhaps we’ll never hear each other’s voices & I hurt you do to – whether together or separated The point is there is a major election coming up. Don’t just vote but participate. Democracy is a living animal. It needs to be fed & trained, watered & allowed to roam. Remember our words are to love, protect. Create a perfect world. As Evan wrote to me once in one of his 3am e-mails – “I won’t live in a country that lets its heroes die”.
“For he than I, may longer live
he longer must, than I
for I have but the power to kill
without the power to die”
- Emily Dickinson
Your new friend here. I met John when the moon was not full… @ a jam session out in the yard of some 60’s rock on a Git-tar. He befriended me. This is several days prior to this blog though & although I think nothing interesting ever happens to me, John thinks otherwise. I guess one thing interesting is this old dude fell asleep last night standing up! People laughed… and so did the old man. Well, for now, is all. I leave you with this peaceful thought from me…
the soul would have no rainbows
if the eyes would have no tears
George E. Webb, Jr. #368337
Oh, I guess John wants me to write more….
I consider myself slightly humorous – more anne-Oying, is closer.
I know this guy in here… he doesn’t just drop the soap… he throws it on the ground! And it doesn’t bother me how people think of me---cus my brain doesn’t pick up idiot waves. Just low level hums.
I got a friend…yeah, just one…we do stuff in here like play volleyball & this one time I was playing naked..ok, just half naked & I was sun burned & my “one friend” Jason, said “You look like a Christmas ham!” & it stuck. Now that’s my name. Life in a Wisconsin DOC isn’t so bad. It could be worse. The main problem is they’re taking our stuff away slowly. I used to have tons of pictures, a keyboard & a bunch of other stuff. I guess it can’t be too homey. By the by.
A seagull woke me up @ 4:30am – “for the love of cheese – shud-dup!”…. I won’t lie. I have a lot of people I’d like to call friends. John is one… my good friend goes home soon. I’ll miss him. Actually 3 are leaving & speaking of leaving I guess I’ll do that. So I’ll close with another quip from knuckledome –
should try to sing
like Axle Rose
George Webb, Jr. aka “Eredim” (air-a-dim)