Every morning I wake up to a loud speaker, blaring whatever announcement the cops feel necessary to be sharing at 5:30am. That, along with the lights being turned on full blast, is my alarm clock. I am a 38 year old convict and I am incarcerated. For now, this is my home. Unfortunately this is the first time I've been to prison. Thought it is, by far, the most life changing. I recently attended a self help group called Success Stories where I was asked to make a list of my top 5 goals in life. Just seeing it on paper made me realize how much time I've wasted. Thank to that list, I look at things in here differently.

​

I live in a dorm that is designed to hold 77 people. The dorm is rarely filled to capacity, but at any given time you will find 70 to 75 individuals living and functioning together. That's 70+ different personalities I have to interact with on a daily basis. Dodging BS becomes an acquired skill.

​

It took me a while to to get used to dorm living. I prefer to do my time in a cell. More privacy, less noise. However jail is not like Burger King. You can't have it your way.

​

Our bunks are lined up next to each other, with only two feet of space in between. Only a locker separates me from the next man and we are literally head to head with each other. Sometimes, the guy I share head space with wakes up in the middle of the night and wants to ear. Sometimes, I think he purposely chooses the loudest snacks to crunch on. What can I do? I am incarcerated. And for now, this is my home.

​

The dorm is divided into two halves, the bed area and the dayroom. A waist high cinder block wall separates the two. There is no set schedule in the dorm, but everyone usually abides by a ten to ten program. Quiet before 10am. Quiet after 10pm.

​

Throughout the day you will find people reading, sleeping, playing guitar, cooking or working out in the bunk area. A threshold of carpet lets you know you are entering the dayroom.

​

The dayroom consists of numerous tables and chairs. Two flat screens TVs hang from one wall. Six phones line another. These eight appliances are the nucleus of the dorm, and also the cause of most physical altercations.

​

Among the inmates, you have various cliques. In one corner are the musicians, who jam out on guitars, write songs, or practice their Grammy acceptance speeches. In another corner are the health freaks. They spend their days researching vitamins and trying out new exercises. The other day I saw a guy doing squats with another guy sitting on his shoulders. Yeah, it's that serious.

​

The tables in the dayroom are reserved for the gamers. These guys literally spend all day, every day playing. From the time they wake up to the time they go to sleep, they are either slamming dominoes, shuffling cards, or strategizing chess pieces. If only they would spend half that amount of time on something that would actually benefit their lives...

​

Around the TVs are the sports junkies. ESPN and Fox sports news run simultaneously, with scores of games and player statistics being called out like numbers on a stock market floor.

​

Scattered throughout the dorm are the war story tellers. These guys have seen and done it all. According to them, their lives are like a Rambo meets Scarface movie.

​

Then there are the complainers. These people sulk around complaining about everything. "It's too hot in here!" "It's too crowded!" You can actually spot these guys by the dark cloud of negative energy that follows them around. Like Pig Pen from Charlie Brown.

​

And me? Where do I fit in? That's a good questions, one I've been asking myself a lot lately. After attending Success Stories, I got to thinking about how far behind in life I really am. My top 5 list looks like something I should have written in high school, not at almost 40 years old. 1) I've never had a driver's license, I definitely have to study for that. 2) I eventually want to get married and have a family. 3) My dream career of to become a writer. I write every day and have made arrangement to enroll in Cal State University as soon as I. parole.

​

My dad recently passed away, and my mom isn't getting any younger. 4) I want to spend as much time as I can with loved ones. 5) And one day, I want to own my own house.

​

There it is, my top 5. Seems overwhelming. I got my work cut out for me, that's for sure. But I'll get there, one day. To answer my question, no, I don't think I do fit in. Not anymore. I don't have much in common with these guys. We all want to go home. I just feel I do a little more than most.

​

My uncle once told me, "You wanna play? You gotta pay!" Well, I've played for too long. Until my release date, I'm just trying to be as productive as possible. I used to have fun in prison. Gaming, exercising, even fighting. Now, It is doesn't bring me closer to my top 5, I'm not messing with it. I read. I write. I work out. I welcome any reason that takes me outside of this dorm. I could complain. But what good would it do? It's all part of my punishment. I am incarcerated. Now for now, this is my home.