"I am here, I have come."

I am here...in jail...in California...facing death. This is my worst nightmare come true. It is the thing I have feared more than anything for most of my adult life. It was that fear that ultimately drove me here. But now...I'm not afraid any more. I'm not sad, or depressed, or angry. Of course, I'm not happy or pleased either. I am just...here...and I'm not ill, worried, or suffering. I get stressed over the noise at times. But when it is quiet, like now, I can empty my mind and totally accept things as they are, totally.

I sleep, eat, read and meditate on a narrow (22") concrete "bunk." The mattress is two inches of foam padding wrapped in nylon reinforced plastic. It is six inches wider than the "bunk" and ten inches shorter than me. There is no pillow, and one thin dirty and torn wool blanket. It is uncomfortable, but I don't mind. I did not come here to sleep.