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        24 August 1999 
     "I have a friend who for twenty years has taken his allowed few hours each day out of the cell to play pinochle. Essentially, the same men have sat with him each day. They have played hundreds of thousands of games. The same faces, the same table, the same results... every day...day in day out...for endless years. Then, each afternoon, they return to their abode to cringe the night away. - There are others who never step from their cells, choosing to make their reality within. -- And there are those like myself, who seem to now feel survival is found only by staying within a world governed by the left side of their brain. Some of them now are master musicans, artists, writers...but all, including myself, are emotionally distraught, vacant of having experienced life's tender embrace. 

     "There is that old saying, "Blossom where you're at." I suppose, for some in life, though our blossoms do come, they are actually likened to the high-breds of modern technology. We are the black roses, the african parrot tulips, the ligers (lion/tiger), all genetically concoted by unnatural means. 

     "Love, good thoughts, and happiness to you,

 William C. Payton


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