prison

Somewhere in the distance I hear the bucket clatter to the floor. I plunge the knife into his head, again and again. His arms lash out blindly, getting in the way. Blood mixes with water cascading to the floor. Meathead staggers to his feet, pulling off his shirt, trying to peel away the agony, but his skin comes away with it, leaving a raw, red mess.There__ a shrill alarm and the sound of pounding feet. I hurl the knife through the bars at the window. A blur of dark faces converge in my vision, fists and feet, punching and kicking. Meathead__ mates are yanking me off, trying to hurt me. Screws come rushing and soon they__e everywhere as I__ half-carried, half-dragged along the corridor. __limey,_ a thought comes from somewhere in all the chaos, ____e only been out a day and already I__ heading straight back down the chokey!_ The last thing I see, as a screaming Meathead is hurried to the hospital, is my cellmate in the middle of the crowd peering worriedly after me. Course he__ worried! The stinky bastard is wondering where his next bit of scag is coming from!

What a world it is, Cora thought, that makes a living prison into your only haven. Was she out of bondage or in its web: how to describe the status of a runaway?

The cliche about prison life is that I am actually integrated into it, ruined by it, when my accommodation to it is so overwhelming that I can no longer stand or even imagine freedom, life outside prison, so that my release brings about a total psychic breakdown, or at least gives rise to a longing for the lost safety of prison life. The actual dialectic of prison life, however, is somewhat more refined. Prison in effect destroys me, attains a total hold over me, precisely when I do not fully consent to the fact that I am in prison but maintain a kind of inner distance towards it, stick to the illusion that __eal life is elsewhere_ and indulge all the time in daydreaming about life outside, about nice things that are waiting for me after my release or escape. I thereby get caught in the vicious cycle of fantasy, so that when, eventually, I am released, the grotesque discord between fantasy and reality breaks me down. The only true solution is therefore fully to accept the rules of prison life and then, within the universe governed by these rules, to work out a way to beat them. In short, inner distance and daydreaming about Life Elsewhere in effect enchain me to prison, whereas full acceptance of the fact that I am really there, bound by prison rules, opens up a space for true hope.

Love is the only thing that changes abstinence from a prison into pleasure.

Oh my eye Betty Martin! Aren't I glad it isn't me that's going to school! It looks just like a prison.

Making Disciples through the Transforming Power of Jesus Christ in the Spirit of Excellence!

Power does not pardon, power punishes.

Thirteen years have past since 1993, and I still have not seen one single book, documentary or anything to the biggest epidemic in Scottish, British prison history. I would go as far and say, no other prison in the world had fourteen men catching the HIV virus at the same time.

Aberdeenshire__ Peterhead jail housed the hardest, badest, meanest motherfucker prisoners in the Scottish prison system. So no one was surprised when the pressure pot jail finally erupted in to violence that has not been seen or equalled since.

When I was on the streets thugging, I wanted loyal people around me. I made my crew aware if you__e going to bleed, I will bleed, too. If we have to go to prison, then we are going to prison together. But one thing about us: if someone is locked up in prison, whatever it takes, we gon_ get that person out. Scrooge, former leader of the Rebellion Raiders street gang that once boasted of having some ten thousand membersThugging, loyalty, prison, Rebellion Raiders, gangbanging, street life, gang life, support, togetherness, unity, lock up, When I was on the streets thugging, I wanted loyal people around me. I made my crew aware if you__e going to bleed, I will bleed, too. If we have to go to prison, then we are going to prison together. But one thing about us: if someone is locked up in prison, whatever it takes, we gon_ get that person out. Scrooge, former leader of the Rebellion Raiders street gang that once boasted of having some ten thousand members

They were the prisoners hidden in different cages, and yet they saw each other every day. He named her fire and she named him the wind, the day they both touched and embraced each other they burnt down everything that stood in their way.

Tradition is the prison where change is detained... To make a change, you need to agree that you are not going with the statement "this is how we do it"! Yes, that was how it was done, but what next? Agree to change!

The Brinktown jail is one of the most ingenious ever propounded by civic authorities. It must be remembered that Brinktown occupies the surface of a volcanic butte, overlooking a trackless jungle of quagmire, thorn, eel-vine skiver tussock. A single road leads from city down to jungle; the prisoner is merely locked out of the city. Escape is at his option; he may flee as far through the jungle as he sees fit: the entire continent is at his disposal. But no prisoner ever ventures far from the gate; and, when his presence is required, it is only necessary to unlock the gate and call his name.

I met Ana doing free weights,_ Roger said. __his hard-body señorita was putting me to shame on squats, and I asked her how she got such a tight ass ____nd then she decked you.___ah, she loved it! She__ real proud of that butt _ she should be. She took me to one of her classes, and I got hooked. She__ a Zumba instructor.__rant absorbed that information for a moment. __ou do...Zumba?___t__ great! Much more fun than PT. You just get going..._ He did a little two-step maneuver on the city street, dancing to an unknown Latin beat. __ha cha cha. Heeuh? Ana does this a little better than me...__rant tried to hold it in. He really did. But his body quivered, his shoulders shook, and soon a whooping laugh erupted _ which lasted quite a few seconds.Roger abruptly stopped his dance. __ou judge, Madsen. Not cool.

I__ glad I went to prison," Grant rasped in Sophie__ ear, so quietly only she could hear. "Because then I found you.

Um, h-h-hi,_ Sophie stammered, closing the door behind her. Meeting her gaze were crystal eyes like blue shards of glass.

For the average person leading an ordinary life, fame holds an hypnotic attraction. Many would sooner perish than exist in anonymity. But for the unlucky few who've had notoriety forced upon them, infamy can be a sentence more damning than any prison term

I refuse to stay a prisoner to my body. I am going to free myself.