Kid Rock's singing to me that "Only God Knows Why". From my front row seat, knee deep in the a Florida prison, I declare that I agree.
I once was lost, but now I'm found. Was blind, but now I see. What I see is bunk beds stretched across an entire dorm full of sweaty prisoners. Lost to the streets and lost t addiction, I found myself on the not-so free side of this fence.
For five long years, I have laid my head on a pillow hundreds of men have laid on before me. Slept on a bunk that was one mans salvation and a thousand others nightmares. Forget walking through the valley of the shadow of death, I pitched my tent and live in the bitch.
If drugs were my escape and way to bail on reality, prison was my reality check. The battle grounds where I came to face my demons. And I'm doing it sober. When you spend your life running from that monster, prison puts you in a back alley with no escape, then puts all those skeletons right there with ya.
Time to make like David and hit Goliath dead in the nuts with a small, smooth stone. Or the forehead....whatever works.
Perhaps I don't always live right. Seems somebody always has a finger pointed at me. I swear too much, have too large of a voice and somewhere there's someone who wants me to take a seat. Sorry, but that ain't happening.
My momma's proud to call me her son. She got to see me clean and free from drugs. She knows freedom has nothing to do with fences and razor wire. My freedom, and yours too for that matter, is found in your heart. Freedom is a state of mind.
You have a world full of people that are prisoners in their own home. Shackled to their job, the wrong partner, finances...others are enslaved to the bondage of religion. They placed so many regulations on their life that they lost the very freedom they sought in the first place.
We do dumb shit, us people. I broke the law, changed some peoples lives and consequently my life was also changed. Changed for the better.
If we learned to quit seeing roadblocks as dead ends, we all would brighten our tomorrows. Not to mention the people you bless when they see you stand up and fight. You become someones breath of fresh air. Perhaps if people could lean to see past the tattoos and occasional cuss words, they would stumble upon the occasional nugget of inspiration.
I don't know why you read this blog. Chances are, I don't even know you. We may never meet. Still, I wrote this for you. Even if you're not a fan of the way I live my life, I think that's cool. I think it's cool you took the time to show love and hang on The Jailbird. Yeah, even the haters just showed me love cause you just helped raise the stats one more.
And you know what? I just raised a stat too. One that suffers terribly every day. Every day hundreds of people lose the war on drugs. They lose their lives to addiction. The beast. Well, my mom won't lose her oldest son that way. I too am a statistic. One that boldly states change has come, change is here. I face life head on and don't back down. I fight for you what I believe in.
My family and the people who love me. And I fight hardest for me. I forgave myself for all my shortcomings. The only question now is.....can you?
Showing posts with label Freedom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Freedom. Show all posts
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Meet J.J.'s Buddy Chris
To all the readers:
This is the first time I have written a post for J.J. So first let me introduce myself. My name is Chris Manikowski. Now I am DC # Q20682. I am currently incarcerated with J.J. I have know him for over two years, along with being co-owner of the granola bar/jolly pop business. So when he asked me to write a post, I said sure thing. This was a couple of months ago, but I could not figure out what to write about.
Apparently, what happens in here on a daily basis is interesting to all of you. But nothing stuck out to me as worthwhile (although the prison hustle piece came from some brainstorming on our part while walking the track). Then, J.J. came up with the Thanksgiving Day shoutouts (so, if you want to see what I look like, scroll down the page a little....I'm on there). And it got me thinking....
What am I really grateful for? Well, I'm locked in a building with a bunch of dudes, I'm told what to do and when to do it, I can't see my family or friends and all for the reasonable future...but it could be worse. I get outside twice a day. Break the rules almost as often as I follow them, and see my friends and family at visitation on the weekends.
Still, it's a good question that many people never stop and take the time to consider. Before I was imprisoned, it seemed like I had the perfect life and was on track to achieve everything I wanted out of life. I had just finished my second year at Florida State University, was in a fraternity, had great grades, lots of friends...you get the idea.
Then, in one night, I lost all that I had worked the last 20 years for. I went to Spring break in Panama City, got into a hit-and-run, and here I sit. After five years, I have a pretty good idea of what's important to me, who I am, who I want to be. That's the great thing about prison...you have plenty of time to think. Many people (especially on the street) are either too busy or don't care enough to do this. I know that I didn't when I was out there, but it gives you a good perspective on life. It takes some significant event, usually catastrophic, to prompt someone to evaluate these things.
This piece is both a supplement and a challenge: this holiday season, I'm urging all of you to sit down for an hour or two, once a day/week/month, and reflect on what/who you are thankful for. Ask yourself who would still be there if you ended up in prison tomorrow? Of five years down the road? What do you want to be doing in the next few years? Where do you want to be? Who do you want to be? Sometimes we just get stuck on autopilot and never realize our blessings. Appreciate the now. Live in the moment. But always with an eye on the future. Don't go through life like a robot only to find out 30 years have gone by and you feel like you've missed out on so much. Before I came to prison, I took my family for granted, along with my friends, even my freedom. I won't make that mistake again and the people who are important to me know how I feel.
I suggest you do the same. So the next time you have a few minutes to think, ask yourself those questions and you might be surprised by the answers. Happy holidays everyone. I'm out.
This is the first time I have written a post for J.J. So first let me introduce myself. My name is Chris Manikowski. Now I am DC # Q20682. I am currently incarcerated with J.J. I have know him for over two years, along with being co-owner of the granola bar/jolly pop business. So when he asked me to write a post, I said sure thing. This was a couple of months ago, but I could not figure out what to write about.
Apparently, what happens in here on a daily basis is interesting to all of you. But nothing stuck out to me as worthwhile (although the prison hustle piece came from some brainstorming on our part while walking the track). Then, J.J. came up with the Thanksgiving Day shoutouts (so, if you want to see what I look like, scroll down the page a little....I'm on there). And it got me thinking....
What am I really grateful for? Well, I'm locked in a building with a bunch of dudes, I'm told what to do and when to do it, I can't see my family or friends and all for the reasonable future...but it could be worse. I get outside twice a day. Break the rules almost as often as I follow them, and see my friends and family at visitation on the weekends.
Still, it's a good question that many people never stop and take the time to consider. Before I was imprisoned, it seemed like I had the perfect life and was on track to achieve everything I wanted out of life. I had just finished my second year at Florida State University, was in a fraternity, had great grades, lots of friends...you get the idea. Then, in one night, I lost all that I had worked the last 20 years for. I went to Spring break in Panama City, got into a hit-and-run, and here I sit. After five years, I have a pretty good idea of what's important to me, who I am, who I want to be. That's the great thing about prison...you have plenty of time to think. Many people (especially on the street) are either too busy or don't care enough to do this. I know that I didn't when I was out there, but it gives you a good perspective on life. It takes some significant event, usually catastrophic, to prompt someone to evaluate these things.
This piece is both a supplement and a challenge: this holiday season, I'm urging all of you to sit down for an hour or two, once a day/week/month, and reflect on what/who you are thankful for. Ask yourself who would still be there if you ended up in prison tomorrow? Of five years down the road? What do you want to be doing in the next few years? Where do you want to be? Who do you want to be? Sometimes we just get stuck on autopilot and never realize our blessings. Appreciate the now. Live in the moment. But always with an eye on the future. Don't go through life like a robot only to find out 30 years have gone by and you feel like you've missed out on so much. Before I came to prison, I took my family for granted, along with my friends, even my freedom. I won't make that mistake again and the people who are important to me know how I feel.
I suggest you do the same. So the next time you have a few minutes to think, ask yourself those questions and you might be surprised by the answers. Happy holidays everyone. I'm out.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
We Salute You
Welcome to Chu-Lai, Vietnam. The year is 1970.
Flying as tail gunner, sitting behind an M-60 machine gun was one of the most dangerous places to be. Technology wasn't what it is today and a door gunner literally sat hanging. His feet out of the chopper while flying over tree level. Dropping hand grenades from a moving helicopter into enemy bunkers was also the job description of a door gunner.
That was only one aspect of the battle a Vietnam-Vet faced. When they came home, they face a whole new form of opposition. These men were mere kids. Fighting a war they were drafted into. Only to come home and be spit at. Literally.
As you sit here reading this, you know I was never in "Nam". What I am is in prison. The other day at mail call, I met my friend Norm who reads the same blog you do. You met Norman the other day. He was in Vietnam and lived to tell his story.
He tell me about the war, while I tell him about prison. We share war stories. Norman knows all too well how it feels to wake up far away from home in a place you don't want to be. That's the life of a prisoner, and a deployed soldier in some forsaken war zone.
In order for me to get a clearer picture of what these veterans faced, I went to a man who sleeps only a few bunks away from me. He too fought in Vietnam. Many years ago he was a young man fighting in the same war Norman fought.
Two soldiers who have became a major part of my life. Norman greets me at mail call with stories of his younger days. He helps keep me sane in my own battlefield. Many days the battlefield of my mind. At the same time he does this, the soldier on this side of the fence helps to free me.
Meet Joe. Mr. Joe has become my legal counsel, and recently helped me file papers in the courts to try to adjust my sentence.
Two soldiers. One war. Both came into my life and are helping me. They fought many years ago in the same war. Today, once again, they both have something in common. They may no longer be fighting for the service, instead they are fighting to help the next generation.
No matter when my freedom comes, I will never forget. I will never forget the soldiers who fought for our country. And today fight for me. I give a personal salute to the two gentlemen who fight for me. Thank you to the both of you. Cheers to freedom...for our country and our minds. Thank you Mr. Norman Nephew and Mr. Joe Magnotti. Thank you both for being on my team. Two men with much wisdom and knowledge to pass on. If a younger generation will only listen.
Flying as tail gunner, sitting behind an M-60 machine gun was one of the most dangerous places to be. Technology wasn't what it is today and a door gunner literally sat hanging. His feet out of the chopper while flying over tree level. Dropping hand grenades from a moving helicopter into enemy bunkers was also the job description of a door gunner.
That was only one aspect of the battle a Vietnam-Vet faced. When they came home, they face a whole new form of opposition. These men were mere kids. Fighting a war they were drafted into. Only to come home and be spit at. Literally.
As you sit here reading this, you know I was never in "Nam". What I am is in prison. The other day at mail call, I met my friend Norm who reads the same blog you do. You met Norman the other day. He was in Vietnam and lived to tell his story.
He tell me about the war, while I tell him about prison. We share war stories. Norman knows all too well how it feels to wake up far away from home in a place you don't want to be. That's the life of a prisoner, and a deployed soldier in some forsaken war zone.
In order for me to get a clearer picture of what these veterans faced, I went to a man who sleeps only a few bunks away from me. He too fought in Vietnam. Many years ago he was a young man fighting in the same war Norman fought.
Two soldiers who have became a major part of my life. Norman greets me at mail call with stories of his younger days. He helps keep me sane in my own battlefield. Many days the battlefield of my mind. At the same time he does this, the soldier on this side of the fence helps to free me.
Meet Joe. Mr. Joe has become my legal counsel, and recently helped me file papers in the courts to try to adjust my sentence.
Two soldiers. One war. Both came into my life and are helping me. They fought many years ago in the same war. Today, once again, they both have something in common. They may no longer be fighting for the service, instead they are fighting to help the next generation.
No matter when my freedom comes, I will never forget. I will never forget the soldiers who fought for our country. And today fight for me. I give a personal salute to the two gentlemen who fight for me. Thank you to the both of you. Cheers to freedom...for our country and our minds. Thank you Mr. Norman Nephew and Mr. Joe Magnotti. Thank you both for being on my team. Two men with much wisdom and knowledge to pass on. If a younger generation will only listen.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Lean on Me
[An oldie, but a goodie. Ester found this post from July!]
Over the course of this blog, I have wrote very openly about my drug abuse, I do this in hopes that my story may help someone who is currently living the same struggle I lived. However, there are other reasons as well.
A recovering addict needs love and support...much support. You can’t make it alone. Perhaps you’re having a struggle in your own life. I’m talking to you right now. First you have to recognize the problem. Drugs are the most common, but alcohol, gambling, even sex are things that grab hold and are hard to be free from. Eating disorders, smoking… the list goes on and on.
I realize in my own life I have made big moves toward staying sober. First, I know I had a problem. Next, I went to my family, the people who love me, and asked for their support.
This project has become a huge part in my decision to remain free from drugs. Accountability. I look back over my life and realize that prison, in many ways, saved my life. Then, the J.J. project – not the ‘project’ as much as you. YEAH, you! Just as you are sitting there reading, you are quite honestly watching me. What’s this dude gonna say or do next? – this has become a major part in my choice to live a sober life.
Even if I manage to get clean on my own, if nobody else knows, then I’m really only letting myself down if I go back to my old life.
…And honestly, as an addict, you let yourself down all the time. …Because deep in your heart, you want to be free, but it hurts and you give in. That’s why if you really want to be free… tell someone.
There are drugs here. We get random drug tests back here because they know there are drugs here. I am still free. Since I was 15 years old I have smoked cigarettes. About two years ago, I decided to quit. It lasted for almost 3 months and I started back. I beat myself up, too. Part of me said "See, you’re not as strong as you thought." …And that right there pissed me off.
I realized I needed a reason. I needed to give my heart a good reason to help myself. Fourteen years ago this August, my daughter was born. I found the reason I needed in my little girl. On her birthday this year, I was one year smoke-free. You may not think that’s such a big deal. For me it is huge. You see, I have an addictive personality. I needed this. I needed to know I was stronger than my addiction.
I won’t lie, I didn’t even tell my daughter I quit until the 8th month. I was scared to fail again. When I told her, I wished I had done it earlier. Because I never want to let her down. I already have let her down enough. Now that I told her, it’s over. …Back to accountability.
For this very reason, I write stuff like this. Maybe it will encourage you if you’re having a hard time right now. But even more than that, you have become my reason to stay clean.
If you have a problem, tell somebody. Tell your mom, tell your dad, tell your spouse or your best friend. Find a church and tell a pastor. Tell someone who cares. I care. This project cares. Don’t feel like you stand alone. Find help, then take that hand and hold on for dear life.
My sister and I developed this thing in order to help people. It helps me all the time. I’ve said it before, but it’s on my heart again. Maybe you need a reason. Perhaps you are searching and you need an answer. Do you need some help?
Why did I sit down and write this today? Why was I awake at 2 a.m. to write ReachingOut? …Because of things I can’t see.
Ester and I had a conversation months ago. She said she likes to follow her heart. I love you sissy. You follow your heart and before long, you will know all too well about heartbreak. I’m a convict doing hard time. That’s why I follow my gut. It’s a built in safety device – a device that quite likely has saved my life.
But since I’m all about keeping it real, I can’t lie either. Sure, I try and sound like the tough guy, but you read The Answer is Love and you’ll know my heart is in this project. I’ve never met you, but I care about your life. I don’t care if you’re from my own backyard or from the outback. Black or white – I don’t see lines of any kind. Maybe you just need to know someone cares. I let my little girl be the reason for me. You need to find that reason for yourself.
Maybe you’ve burned your family one too many times and stumbled upon this blog. I questioned whether or not to write this. Maybe you’re wondering why you’re here, listening to me today. I don’t know if it was my heart or my gut. Maybe both inspired this. These days, I just go with it. Either way… I still have a good hand that reaches out. So does my sister. You are not alone.
If you are free, be thankful. If you want to be free, you can be. I get a lot done from bunk 113. And, I have time for you. We’re cool like that. Is there something you want to read about? Is there a topic you would like me to write about? Just leave a comment here. I will hear about it. I will sit on bunk 113 and write a new post.....a new post that might help you, a friend of yours, or a family member that you love. Just say the word.
As always, much love from The Hooligan
As always, much love from The Hooligan
Friday, November 4, 2011
Give Me One More Chance.
Last week I read about a man who writes for a blog from Death Row. He made front page of the Jacksonville paper due to his blunt basking of the Florida prison system. You go Mr. Death Row Poet.
He was given an interview in which he was asked, "Do you feel ready to be released?"
Since reading that article I have asked myself that same question a hundred times. Over the past 3.5 years of my prison sentence I have many times thought about that day.
What is the American dream? Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Is that still your dream? Just prior to coming to prison, my life was anything but. I was pursuing the other American dream...get high...stay high.
When I read the Death Row Poet's interview, I was taken by his response. Today, for me, my life is a mission to better myself. Even my blog is used to reach out. Sometimes, it is just about a simple laugh. Other times, I am serious and use my life experiences to make a point, but let's move on. Let's move toward something.
My goal is no longer to get high. Ask me! Ask me if I'm ready to go home. Ask me if I'm ready to be a man to my woman, a role model to my child, a big brother to my siblings. My answer is YES!
Every day of my life is spent planning for that day. Making sure that I'm ready. Fixing my relationships, putting drugs and past addictions further behind me. Replacing the bad people in my life with ones who love me for me, people who stand beside me, and see me as a changed man. My support group.
Ask me if I'm ready to go home...I'll give you the opposite answer the Death Row Poet gave. Then again, we are different in many ways. From day one, the Judicious Jailbird has been used to spark change...To inspire you to think. To not take life for granted. To enjoy your freedom. To grab just one more kiss from your partner before you head out that door. To remember to call your momma and tell her how much you love her. To be a better parent. To smile, laugh, be silly and be ALIVE!
I'm not writing to point fingers. I do not blame my fuck-ups on anyone else. I'm a full-grown man and I accept responsibility for my mistakes. This is the only way you can then work through them and fix them...fix yourself!
So instead of being angry, pointing fingers at others, talking bad about the prison, or how it's ran...I speak bad about drugs, crime, and the real issues that brought me here. At the end of the day, I brought me here. My mission now is to get right so I can get me back out there.
Yeah, I'm ready to go. I have my woman, my daughter, and a solid business plan. My family knows that I love them. I know where I'm going. I know how to get there. The people who doubted me, pulled me down, held me back...well, they were the first ones to go. Some days I see these prison bars as a giant sifter. These bars have sifted out the good and the bad...separated me from the good in me and the bad that tried to overtake me. I came into prison and the bullshit stopped here. The bad in my life slowly sifted away. Now you meet the man who stands here today.
The drugs are gone. Bad people are gone. The wrong woman is gone. My old views are gone. Yes, the bad in my life has been sifted out by the very bars meant to confine me. Hold me down. Lock me in. Punish me. The very bars that in the end...saved my life.
Today, I'm glad that I came here. The judge saved my life in September of 2008 when he handed me a prison sentence. I'm just happy that instead of ranting and raving about how prison sucks and I'm angry...I used this experience to better myself. To change my life. Today I put a whole new price tag on freedom. People, it's priceless. Until you've lost it, you can't see what its full value is....unless...
Unless I can paint you a picture you can appreciate. A picture you can fully grasp.
So, did you go in for a second kiss lately? Did you put a love note on the seat of your spouse's car? Have you made plans to take your kids somewhere special this weekend? Why don't you get on that. You only live once...enjoy your freedom. I am going to keep fighting to get mine back.
He was given an interview in which he was asked, "Do you feel ready to be released?"
Since reading that article I have asked myself that same question a hundred times. Over the past 3.5 years of my prison sentence I have many times thought about that day.
What is the American dream? Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Is that still your dream? Just prior to coming to prison, my life was anything but. I was pursuing the other American dream...get high...stay high.
When I read the Death Row Poet's interview, I was taken by his response. Today, for me, my life is a mission to better myself. Even my blog is used to reach out. Sometimes, it is just about a simple laugh. Other times, I am serious and use my life experiences to make a point, but let's move on. Let's move toward something.
My goal is no longer to get high. Ask me! Ask me if I'm ready to go home. Ask me if I'm ready to be a man to my woman, a role model to my child, a big brother to my siblings. My answer is YES!
Every day of my life is spent planning for that day. Making sure that I'm ready. Fixing my relationships, putting drugs and past addictions further behind me. Replacing the bad people in my life with ones who love me for me, people who stand beside me, and see me as a changed man. My support group.
Ask me if I'm ready to go home...I'll give you the opposite answer the Death Row Poet gave. Then again, we are different in many ways. From day one, the Judicious Jailbird has been used to spark change...To inspire you to think. To not take life for granted. To enjoy your freedom. To grab just one more kiss from your partner before you head out that door. To remember to call your momma and tell her how much you love her. To be a better parent. To smile, laugh, be silly and be ALIVE!
I'm not writing to point fingers. I do not blame my fuck-ups on anyone else. I'm a full-grown man and I accept responsibility for my mistakes. This is the only way you can then work through them and fix them...fix yourself!
So instead of being angry, pointing fingers at others, talking bad about the prison, or how it's ran...I speak bad about drugs, crime, and the real issues that brought me here. At the end of the day, I brought me here. My mission now is to get right so I can get me back out there.
Yeah, I'm ready to go. I have my woman, my daughter, and a solid business plan. My family knows that I love them. I know where I'm going. I know how to get there. The people who doubted me, pulled me down, held me back...well, they were the first ones to go. Some days I see these prison bars as a giant sifter. These bars have sifted out the good and the bad...separated me from the good in me and the bad that tried to overtake me. I came into prison and the bullshit stopped here. The bad in my life slowly sifted away. Now you meet the man who stands here today.
The drugs are gone. Bad people are gone. The wrong woman is gone. My old views are gone. Yes, the bad in my life has been sifted out by the very bars meant to confine me. Hold me down. Lock me in. Punish me. The very bars that in the end...saved my life.
Today, I'm glad that I came here. The judge saved my life in September of 2008 when he handed me a prison sentence. I'm just happy that instead of ranting and raving about how prison sucks and I'm angry...I used this experience to better myself. To change my life. Today I put a whole new price tag on freedom. People, it's priceless. Until you've lost it, you can't see what its full value is....unless...
Unless I can paint you a picture you can appreciate. A picture you can fully grasp.
So, did you go in for a second kiss lately? Did you put a love note on the seat of your spouse's car? Have you made plans to take your kids somewhere special this weekend? Why don't you get on that. You only live once...enjoy your freedom. I am going to keep fighting to get mine back.
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