August 22nd- From Prison (posted 9/14)

August 22, 2024

Marie,

What a chaotic day. It didn’t start out well—I got up early to watch the news and check emails at 6:00 a.m. Last night, I told you how lonely this whole situation feels, how emails, calls, and pictures are my only connection to home. And then, this morning, there was no email from you or anyone. I’m sure you were just sick and fell asleep, but by 11:00 a.m., still nothing. I know I’m too sensitive for this; I’m a grown man, but it’s crushing. I wish I could just lay down and sleep it all off. I don’t even know why I write these letters sometimes.

I had class today. We watched the documentary I Am. We’ve seen it a couple of times before with the Egburts at home church, back in 2014. Watching it now, I see how all those progressive ideas and thoughts I shared have become weaponized against people. It doesn’t matter if the boot is on the left or the right—it’s still a boot on my neck. When you force redistribution of wealth, acceptance of the LGBTQ+ community, healthcare, environmental care, or care for the homeless at the barrel of a gun, the ends start to justify the means. The victim becomes the oppressor, which is where we are now. Forcing people to do good, no matter the reason, is the very essence of Satan’s plan. The persecutor sees you as needing to change, not themselves.

When it comes to government, the less it attempts to achieve specific outcomes, the more space there is for individuals to choose to do right rather than being forced. If doing good is forced upon you, there’s no reward—what’s good when it’s imposed with force? Isn’t force itself the morally bankrupt action? Force is only employed by those who’ve failed to educate and persuade others toward their idea of good.

I felt the familiar angst of being a victim, but I had to remind myself that when we feel like victims, we can have the heart of an oppressor. “Go not the way of the oppressor; walk not in his path.” I am called to forgive, not to wallow in bitterness—especially today when I feel unheard and forgotten. Sometimes I feel lost to everything that was once important to me, but maybe that’s part of the plan. Maybe I’m meant to feel this way so I can sympathize with those who’ve been forgotten. I have to remind myself I haven’t been forgotten.

After class, I rushed back to the shop to drop my bag, then went to lunch. John wasn’t there—he quit the woodshop today. My friend Kevin quit yesterday too, so now I sit by myself at the lunch table. I’ll probably start bringing paper to write, unless I make new friends.

After lunch, I hustled up to the housing unit to check if my mom’s visitation form was received. Turns out the counselor received an empty envelope—what’s going on? She told me to check the mailroom, but I already know how that’ll go. The mailroom is only open for 45 minutes a day, and they were already closing when I was told this. Then came the recall. I wasn’t sure if I should go back to the woodshop or stay in the unit, so I ran back to the shop only to be told to return to the housing unit. Now I’m here writing to you because I don’t have anything else to do.

This recall is supposed to last for four hours, which takes us right up to count, then dinner—basically a lockdown. A bunch of new people showed up today—about eight Mexicans and two or three Black guys. We don’t get a lot of white guys here. I guess we’ll see if any show up in the other units.

For now, my roommate and I have the four-man room to ourselves, which is pretty awesome. There’s a guy I came in with who was on a different unit for medical fraud. He’s on our floor now. I found out today he let someone else use his phone minutes, and now he’s in the SHU for it. That sucks. In some places, that’s no big deal, but here, it’ll land you in the SHU.

I’ve got a lot to consider about the woodshop. If a tool goes missing, I could end up in the SHU for 30, 60, or even 90 days while they investigate. A guard told me they do that so you essentially become forgotten, and any plot you might be involved in passes. It’s chilling to consider what could happen, and it’s not fun to think about. If I get 15 days back for every 30-day investigation, that’s still 15 days lost—that’s two weeks, maybe even a month if they calculate by full 30-day periods.

It’s nice to be sitting in my room, next to my bed, with no one else here. It’s rare. I’m also finishing off a bag of white cheddar popcorn and on my fourth cup of coffee. I really like the creamer I bought by accident—might add it to my usual purchases.

I hear RFK Jr. might drop his campaign and endorse Trump. I think that’s a good idea. I could see him serving in Trump’s cabinet. We’re only 75 days out from the election—I can’t believe how fast time is flying.

Good news on the voter registration front: The Supreme Court upheld the requirement for proof of citizenship for voter registration. That’s huge—it gives me hope that Arizona will go the right way (get it? LOL). It also sets a precedent for other states and shows where the Supreme Court stands on this issue. The RNC is telling illegals they’ll be prosecuted and deported if they vote, which could create a major deterrent and undermine fraudulent voter registrations long-term. This is really good news. We’ll see how it works out short-term.

Dan Bongino started his show today talking about how the DNC is basically dead on arrival. I agree—nothing they’ve said makes me think they’ll peel off voters. Bongino’s also been saying the media and polling companies are gaslighting people into discouragement over Trump’s chances. I think there’s just excitement about Biden not being on the ballot. I get that—I even got excited.

I’m debating whether I want to go to dinner tonight. It’s chicken and vegetables, but it’s never that great. I’ve been eating oatmeal, nuts, and peanut butter before bed after I call you, and I might just do that tonight. Since I’ve been locked in all afternoon, maybe I’ll go outside during dinner.

Did you hear that the Department of Labor revised this year’s job statistics down by 812,000? Wow, that’s fraudulent. Investors were defrauded—it’s unbelievable that people still trust anything from the government when they lie about everything.

Bongino also covered how polls are being manipulated. I think we’re going to be okay, babe. I have faith this will end sooner rather than later. If we keep bitterness out of our hearts, we can be agents of real change. CNN reported today that Trump was under-polled by 59% in 2020. That’s huge—they’re trying to disenfranchise Republican voters.

I’ve seen the effect in here. Some inmates who were super pro-Trump have thrown in the towel after Biden dropped out and the media went all-in on Harris. They don’t stand for anything; they just want the media to validate them.

It’s lame—I started writing this around noon, and now it’s 4:00 p.m. I’ve checked my email eight times this afternoon, partly just to get up and walk around. Alright, I’ve got to get ready for count and take a shower. XOXO.

I’m all showered and clean now. I’m going to head outside during dinner and work on my lesson for the LDS service on Friday. We’re on Helaman 5-6, the Gadianton robber chapters. The parallels to today’s society are hard to miss, but I’m trying not to make obvious comparisons while teaching.

There are so many times I walk around and just can’t believe I’m here. Watching I Am this morning reminded me that I need to stay in a place of love and acceptance and encourage others to do the same.

My right butt cheek has some kind of nerve issue—it feels like something is pinched. I don’t like it. I know the chance of real treatment here is almost zero. I wonder if it’s from all the miles I’ve walked. If I quit the woodshop, I’d probably go back to walking a lot. I’m curious about the research you suggested on commercial law. 

I’ve got to get ready to go outside. Love you, XOXO.

Well, it turns out there was no outside rec, so I came back to the housing unit and ended up going to dinner. Dinner wasn’t really worth it—just shredded chicken, rice, and peas. I’ll remember that for next time. Afterward, I went to indoor rec and hung out with friends. Nothing spectacular, just chatting about the day. One TV was showing the DNC on CNN. I didn’t listen, but it looked lame—not that I’d think otherwise.

I heard from my mom—she did send the visitation form. I’ll have to check tomorrow to see if the mailroom or counselor got it. I like my counselor—she’s been good to me and does what she says.

There’s a lot of people in the TV room watching Doom 2. I would’ve liked to watch it but would’ve needed to start from the beginning. My friend who came in with me brought a Deseret Magazine with an article about Ray Epps. I almost lost my mind. I won’t rant here, but I have strong opinions on that scam.

I’m about to call you. We just talked—I feel bad you’re feeling so sick. That stinks. I hope you get better soon. It’s great you’re having so many showings on the house. I’ve said all I can for today. I love you so much. I hope when this ends, life gets easier and more predictable—I could use a respite.

We’re living in amazing times. Hopefully, one day we’ll be grateful to have had a front-row seat and to have been part of history.

Love,
Taylor