Wow! Nonstandard writing today and nonstandard bonsai tomorrow. You're just a non-standard guy. But at 42 you'd think you'd have acquired a modicum of standardization by now. One wonders how you managed in this very standardized world.
But, this discussion is too much like spitting into the wind. I think my contribution to the breeze is done.
this very standardized world locked my ass up for two years. in the process there were a few episodes of actual torture and brutal dehumanization. the odd bit is that my crime was frightening a police officer during my attempt at suicide. i had just had to put down my ferret, my weird weasel soul mate, Ahimsa Dharma (i'll meet you in the bardo babe, try not to annoy the bodhisattvas too much). and i mean that i had to do it, personally, with a shot of ativan and morphine. it broke me - something in me just turned off, and i went and got my insulin and injected two vials, along with the rest of the bottle of ativan. after half an hour, i remembered something about pills being for women, and how men use guns. so i went and got a .22 rifle, but my bloodsugar by then was below 40. i went out side and tried, only to discover that you can't shoot yourself with a .22 - the barrel is too long, you have to pull the trigger with your toe - who knew? so i tried and shot the rifle up into the air. when i looked up, there was a man there, so i handed him the gun and asked him to reload it for me. instead he retreated and two of his buddies tazed me. i spent some time in the ICU, then the police took me and stripped me and hosed me down, then put me in a padded nylon one-piece. they move me to a 5x5 cell with rubber walls and a hole in the floor to piss in, no other furnishings. the lights never went out and i had to beg them to left me out to defecate, and then they laughed at me. i slept on the floor and had to stand up every hour to be 'counted'. after three days they put another person in the cell, so the counting bit made a bit more sense. i was in there for five days, no phone call, my family thought i was dead somewhere.
when i made it to genpop in the county jail, i learned i'd been charged with assaulting the four cops who, well, assaulted me. because the charge involve a 'peace officer' the DA convinced the judge to permanently deny me bail. i sat there for 1.25 yrs. i couldn't talk to my lawyer - his phone wouldn't take collect calls and he never answered my letters. i saw him once, when he explained the charges, then again at the 1.25yr mark when the DA offered me a plea bargain: spend another .75yrs in real prison and go home a felon, or wait in the county jail with no chance of bail for 3 more years to get a jury trial, which i would only win if the cops defied the DA. i took the deal.
so the euroamerican gay buddhist intellectual went to a maximum security prison. note - the tv show Oz is fairly accurate, minus the hot christopher meloni bf bit. i managed to get into the work dorm, where i made the green and white street signs you see on every corner, working in a slave factory in south georgia. then i got out, and here i am.
irony? in the mid 90's i was one of those awful rave monkeys with the cat-in-the-hat hats and i ran a nonprofit MDMA lab, just giving the stuff to my friends so they wouldn't get poisoned with street drugs. i considered it doing my part in the war on some drugs (which is a war of terror and oppression conducted by the government against its own citizens). eventually i got busted....but i got off on an invalid search warrant (yeah, they gave me bail then, too).
funny thing - i flat got away with standing up and spitting in the eye of evil (which you might call conformity). it was when i gave up and stopped fighting that the men in blue took me and tortured me, throwing me in an environment that should have killed me. still, my first year out of prison, i hid - i didn't want anyone to ever notice me again. i sat in my father's basement and molded like a potato. then i realized a few things. for one, prison made me a better man. i know things about respect, loyalty and friendship that most people can't imagine and i know them deeply, intuitively - the kind of learning you get when you know if you mess up, the result will be immediate gross physical violence. i learned that if i live by my beliefs, and live righteously, that i can survive and even prosper in places that would destroy most of you - i saw it happen to other people. i learned that my religion *works*. i learned that as a self-confident gay man, i may like receptive anal sex occasionally, but despite that, i'm nobody's bitch. and i *know* that i don't break.
so yes, i'm having some difficulty reintegrating into mainstream society. see, prison restored my faith in the essential goodness of humanity - it was this crap here that wore it down. i'm having issues making friends because most people outside are skeeving, lying, hateful, manipulative *punks* - and i just don't have time for it. i went through some *hard* shit, and i overcame it, learned from it and used it to better myself. i'm not interested in giving that up to fit in with or gain the approval of people that to me are non-starters, people that i know from how they act, speak and present themselves will collapse and punk out the instant shit gets real. so there it is, you no longer have to wonder how i managed in this very standardized world - simple, really, i kick ass and take names while walking the path of the lord Buddha. and i love my life - i know where joy comes from and how to cultivate it. everyday i have moments of bliss where i'm overcome with gratitude just to be alive. peace, y'all.