Monday, June 26, 2017

Tyrone Muson Affidavit

Tyrone D Munson #356816
GBCI;PO Box 19033
Green Bay, WI 54307
By Tyrone Munson:
It is my greatest hope that those who read this don’t just put it down but allow this to linger for awhile in their minds. My heart goes out to the victims affected by the vicious acts committed against them almost 20 years ago.  It has always been my hope, prayer and constant thought that they were somehow able to rebuild after all the hurt and pain I have caused.
Affidavit:
          My name is Tyrone Munson and now at age 37, my heart is in constant agony and contrition. At the age of 17 (mentally the age of 12) I was so lost, so broken, with no self worth from constant blows and physical abuse- getting beat with extension cords until I bled, being mentally and emotionally abused  by those closest to me all while holding in the sexual abuse done to me by older women of close friends and family members.
           This is not something you can wash away in the shower. So I consumed huge amount of alcohol. This only fueled my low esteem. I was in so much pain I tried several time s to kill myself. No father, mother using drugs, so poverty destroyed any chances of social or economic advancements. I was always getting jumped and bullied at school .People talking about me because I didn’t have the latest fashion. I was so alone, I didn’t have any skills to articulate all the suffering I lived every day. So I internalized it until it manifested itself in the form of pure hatred and anger/rage. People always say we have a choice. And I do believe that but now that I think my choices, they were deeply rooted in a negative environment. I didn’t know any better except darkness, misery. I wish someone can understand if I could have seen past the torture/turmoil, I highly doubt it would have turned out the way it did. The man I am now will shock you I terms of the depth of my soul. I have so much positive energy you will be amazed. More about that later.
           The saying is truth: Hurt people hurt people. I was robbed of my innocence, stripped of my human birth right/identity to even have a fighting chance to know my self worth. I hated my existence on this earth, wishing desperately to die. Finally, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I exploded, destroying everything and everyone in my wake like a monsoon. With no one in particular, I began to wreck havoc on my community. I did not start out with a life of crime, actually at one point I was at the top of some of my classes I school. After consuming about a liter of alcohol and doing drugs,”I snapped!”. I completely snapped! In about a week in time span, I brutally beat up several men,I robbed many people , and I sexually assaulted several women. I went from Never, ever getting into trouble with the law to receiving 290 years in prison. Almost 20 years later the attributes I possess now contradicts the broken boy I was. Society must know that no one gets restorative justice until, the Just is restored in US. Until I begin to heal and know thy self I would never come to know how horrific my crimes were. I have a very interesting transformation process. But to sum it up, I am a great, humble man.
           In 2015 without warning, I died. I went into cardiac arrest/sudden death. They say it was from a virus attacking my heart called myocarditis. Others believe I suffered from a broken heart or from high concentrations of lead in the water. I believe it was because of the mental and emotional breakdown I had as a result of being in this negative environment. I still have work to do, I still face trauma. I am desperately trying to get to a place that assists with that. But at this moment I am being prohibited. I have been through a lot- too much to put on paper. But I can assure you this one thing. In sheer humility I have been compared to Marin Luther King Jr. and Gandhi. I recognize greatness yet I battle sameness.  I will do more good in society than I can incarcerated. I deserve a second chance because I never had my first chance. I owe everyone, and the best way to show it is through my everyday actions. No more victim is my motto, no more ignorance; a selfless servant. A second chance, he’s no longer a boy, he’s now a man.

more on near death experience in 2016(written 6 16)
near death experience:https://ffupstuff.files.wordpress.com/2016/06/tyrone-munson-for-blog-6-12-16-1.pdf

Sunday, August 2, 2015

Black Lives Matter



Black Lives Matter
         Black lives Shattered, Black morals scattered. The value of our lives doesn’t make sense so a change for a dollar isn’t spent. It is a genocide of our people as well as self inflicted wounds so it is lethal injections of hatred, police brutality Michael Brown.

           Eric Gardner cried “I can’t breathe” as they wrestled him to the ground! Walking down the streets while minding his own Trayvon Martin was killed that night he did not make it home- this is the same ole song, Jordan Davis was maliciously shot for playing his  music too loud. Nine innocent lives in South Carolina while praising God, was viciously gunned down. Why is it that we only make up about 14 percent of America’s population while more than 50 percent of young Black males are losing their lives to incarcerations with no education.

           “What a devastation!” This nation is supposed to be the land of the free. Yet death and prison seem to be the only “just us” for you and me. Martin Luther King had a dream. Yet I doubt if he saw his vision becoming a night mare. It doesn’t take a genius to see that justice has become deaf, blind and ignorant. ”Something isn’t right here!” Tamir Rice was shot and killed for playin with a fake gun just having fun. Derrick Williams pleaded for his life while in the back of a police car. His cries was taken as a joke his hope to live evaporated like smoke. Ramero Kidd, Dontae Hamilton,Mike Bell, Bo Morris, Tony Robinson and countless others who died for being Black. Lives that were taken we can never get them back. Will we ever win? It seems like we’re constantly under attack. The way we are killing and hating each other you would think that we are not proud to be black. Although the confederate flag has come down there is still a confederation of the heart. Racism is a prison of darkness to see no color is an art; formed by God in the minds of his people. Yet we are still being killed and the equation is subtraction –minus black lives being equal. There is no multiplication-just division amongst our own people.

       Demonstrations and rallies as many gather against this evil. Will black lives be worth more than a 60 second commercial on TV? Or will we forever be judged by the pigment or our divine beings? Every time you turn on the news the depiction of black images are severely bruised and battered. When will it come a day that BLACK LIVES REALLY MATTER?

Echo Devon
Tyrone D Munson 356816
GBCI , PO Box 19033
Green Bay, WI 54307

Boy Inside the Man, 17 years a slave, Darkness and 2 others



Boy Inside the Man 2 4 15
  Who will cry for the little boy, the boy inside the man? Who tried desperately to get approval from those who confessed they love you. Those who refused to hug you with utter distain they judged you, you will never amount to anything is a constant broken record the song sings, of your hopes and dreams.
The silent screams of physical, sexual and emotional abuse. The boy's mind unable to fully process this traumatic experience, so he naturally becomes a recluse. Who will cry for the little boy, the boy inside the man whose sense of security was stripped by impurities vile and vicious acts destroyed any possible chance of his self worth to ever bounce back. Blacked eyes were covered by make-up, the boy inside the man afraid to wakeup. Wishing death because at such an impressionable age he confesses there is nothing left. Who will cry for the little boy even though the man that embodies him can't, because he was taught that to display this emotion made him smaller than the size of an ant. Who will cry for the man inside who the boy still controls, the inability to fully trust someone- the pain all the memories hold .Seems there is no reason to cry when love dies inside. When you just want to hide, when the very essence of who you are is answered with a question marked why? Who will help the boy and the man to become one in his own identity? To restore hope and understanding in defining true masculinity. The man will cry for the little boy inside when he learns the freedom of being free. Then I will cry tears of joy for that little boy inside of me. 

17 years a slave
17 a slave mastered by my thoughts being the plantation-it is my mind that struggles with white colors of hope, my heart dark so with them -they both are considered racist-now pay attention because I am lynching my own identity to be defined is as a real man-I liken my self-worth at birth, to tne foul smells of a garbage can- and at the hands of my oppressed mental state. I have received thousands of psychological lashes-deep cut lacerations to my soul leaves fresh wounds or infected gashes.
Ashes describe “at best” the hollowness I feel, a battle uphill gives the enemy in me the advantage-17 years alone the way life has taken away numerous companions- In this tug of war that I abhor I question my very existence-will I die on the front line because I fail to escape my prison? 17 years a river flow of tears has washed away my ability to hope-like a long lasting heroin addiction I feel addicted yet misery is my dope.

Make-up
The veneer of my exterior appears to be strong. I feel defeated, incomplete and nevertheless I feel alone. In the hollowness of my soul there lies a desperation to be made whole although I smile just for a little while. I am losing all control. To some, I seem bold and confident when I speak while others detect my flaws and see that I have become weak. Do you consider me less of a man because it is love I seek? Are my expectations too high to be embraced just for being me? They say the truth hurts that's why a lot of people reject it .While others masquerade living a lie as if they accept it. I respect it but in this truth it is hard for me to cope, to come to grips with my reality I conclude there's little hope. I have no distractions I can’t pretend that it’s not there. I can't act like it doesn't bother me or like I really don't care. Wearing make-up over blemishes in my life has caused me so much pain. To carry the burden of a heavy load is starting to drive me mentally insane. Now I am stuck because who can I trust when majority wears a mask? When in my face you seem concerned, and behind my back you talk or laugh. I don't understand because the man I am now is not who I want to be and I am afraid because my identity defines my core beliefs. How could I move on when the very essence of my life/ the wounds cut so deep with a knife it has severed my ability to fight. At night I cry because I'm in search for momentary relief. Please somebody help me somehow I lost my vision to see. Can you hear me, the silence of my inner fear screams so loud, everything that I have seen in the past has finally chased me down- a man in search for meaning yet none have been found. Restless, this seems like one bad break up every time I wake up I am a man who subconsciously put on makeup.

Darkness
A volcanic eruption has taken place in the cerebrum of my mind-The lava has severely burned portions of how I am to be defined- In the wake of a hurricane my emotions have been misplaced by the wreckage of my past-yet I must rebuild as in the aftermath of Katrina form a memorial and say my condolences like September 9/11 and lay to rest the old things that had meaning. Out of darkness some of the most beautiful things are created -After nine months in the womb of a woman comes the birth of a beautiful baby-when the night falls and the light ceases to be, the earth cracks open out of darkness starts the growth of a flower or tree. When the morning comes and the eyes are still shut, deep into a vision or a dream. Those thoughts created in the darkest hour of the night turns into a reality. Or how about a precious pearl, better yet the metamorphosis in the cocoon that turns a caterpillar into a butterfly. They say diamonds are a girl's best friend but before it is merely crystalline carbon they must go through the process of being retrieved out of darkness. Then there is gold which goes through fire to be desired. All while in darkness there is a brokeness that transpires. I am no exception. Although a man of many flaws, I have the ability to come from nullity to the greatest of them all. Why me? Well why not me, if I possess the attribute of strength to experience the true meaning behind this pain. To embrace it as part of me so that I am able to sustain under the extreme of pressures that try to overpower my will.
To overcome the thought that tells me “You have no reason to live!”,Out of darkness shines a light that shines so bright in me it can't be denied! No matter how much dirt is thrown on it, it grows stronger time after time. I am a king and will not be defeated by the peasantry of my past mistakes. No matter how dark it gets in my life the sun comes up “everyday.” I have a choice, better yet, I have a voice to be the very best I could ever be. However it starts in the dark room developing the best photographs I see on the inside of me. I smile because now I do believe in darkness. 

War Cry
     Maybe it's time I rise from the grave. Dusting off the cobwebb in the cave of my mind, as I gaze. At the sun, as I run, into the hands of hope. Lifting me to a higher purpose as I soak my feet in the sand of peace and tranquility. Recognizing my fullest potential and capabilities. No longer being bound by the sounds of my surroundings. Not allowing my emotions to overwhelm me until I'm drowning. Beating my chest because At last I found my calling. Helping the broken hearted and being a helping hand to the falling.
      Using my pain and tears as war gear and motivation. Accepting that “I” am the orchestra to the symphony that I am playing in. I am tired of lies being repeated. Every time I feel good about myself I am the one who delete it. No I’m not conceited but I have to believe it. Easier said than done but I was once told not impossible. It Takes courage, hope, faith and strength to climb over any obstacle. So today I'm making a declaration and saying misery isn't for me.
      I have decided to break the chains of my past and strive to be the best man that I can be.
Echo Devon

Saturday, August 1, 2015

Human Suffering and Prisonology



  • Human Suffering

“In giving meaning to the suffering it becomes endurable,” they say suffering ceases to be suffering the moment is finds  meaning. Meaning is something we “discover rather than invent.” We find it through living, through love, creating things and the way we choose to see things. What is the meaning of human suffering?
I can only conclude that it is a part of life that we cannot escape. Whether we use it as a means of growth or we allow it to destroy our psychological defenses. Human suffering could only be neutralized when we embrace it. For so long my emotions became my adversary and in this I suffer simply because I was against my own existence. If only for mere survival I must somehow become an ally of my suffering. I must embrace those emotions that has plagued me for many years. Yet how do I Surrender to a foe? Me, myself and I have been in constant battle ever since I failed to adhere to the signs of emotional oppression. Yes, I am convinced that we are creators of our own suffering. We imprison ourselves based on what we think should be.


I


Tyrone Devon Munson W.C.I #356816 P.O. Box 351 Waupun Wi 53963
Anyone is welcome to write to me.

9-27-10
Prisonology:
A distant ride away from home after being sentenced to death. Trying desperately to hold it all together but knowing there is nothing left. Subconsciously in shock, not able to wrap my mind around this reality. The only thing I could feel is my life being sucked out of me. As I stare out of the window, I can tell that I'm traveling further away from home. Tears begin to run down my cheek, I notice that I'm all alone.
I close my eyes for a second, hoping and praying this is only a dream. I tried hard but nothing could really block out the time that I've just received. Not fully understanding the pain that was caused. Only the wrongs that was done to me. A true revelation in this manifestation of what I call prisonology.
The core concept of prisonology is that there is a depravation in the heart and mind of a man-child. For him to be able to understand the ramifications of his actions, he must first realize or have some type of self-worth. Physical prison is only a prototype of the mental, emotional and environmental or spiritual prison a man-child face. I use this word prisonology because it is a typology of one suffers in his environment.
Depravation is caused when a person lacks the ability to feel for not only himself, but others around him. A child who grows up socially and economically challenged: Surrounded or enveloped in a cesspool of drugs and alcoholism, as well as gang violence. Stands a lesser chance of developing into a productive citizen. A boy who suffers from an identity crisis because he has no father figure or role model. Quickly hardens his heart for mere survival purposes.
Even if he is raised by his mother or grandmother. The callousness is still brought on because of the environment he grows up in. If a man-child is not taught self-worth, he will have no concept or care for anyone else. For every behavior is a learned behavior. Children who are raised in a single parent home (mainly by the mother), poverty stricken neighborhoods and no real investment into that child's education. Will probably end up in prison or dead.
Prison is a state of mind, not of being. Grown boys who are in prison now, were already in a prison growing up. As we can see today, prison takes on more than just one form. Many are in a prison of abuse. Whether it be physical or emotional, a lot of people suffer from this prison. No matter what the prison is, those who are convicted to do physical time is scrutinized because of the harm done to the community.

Instead of spending more tax paying dollars on warehousing these pre-inmates. When the very foundation of our children's education is at stake.
1. There must be a greater investment and this investment must begin with Psychologically and Spiritually getting the prison out of that person. Now more than ever, teen-agers are being locked up in physical prison. To do life in a system that has taken rehabilitation completely out of the process. Well you may be thinking there is no real need to rehabilitate a man-child who will spend the rest of his life behind bars.
Is this what society call justice? No matter what the case may be studies shows that the development of a child's brain doesn't stop until the ages of 25 to 28. Can you honestly tell me that a 15, 16, or 17 year old child. Probably at the mental age of 11 or 12 years old can not change? To consider what I am saying. That a lot of children suffer harsh punishments as a child. Being sexually abused, being emotionally abused. As well as physical abuse. If most of there childhood they have been program to believe all of these lies. That you are a nobody. Getting bullied by other kids, nobody accepting you because you are not socially acceptable. This imprison a child to believe this is who he really are. There is no way a child can escape this prison. Without the help of a responsible adult.
Prisonology is formulated based upon facts:
1. Breaking the cycle by creating awareness, "self-awareness"!
Enrichment of self-worth by revealing the value he possess. It wasn't until I was enlighten with how valuable I was. That I started to value other peoples lives.
2. Reassessment, Instead of hoping, wishing and praying asking God to help us get out of prison. The focus should be to get the prison out of us first. This comes by a reassessment of core values. There must be a foundation of core principals that one could build on. Education is key. However a spiritual awareness also plays a major role in the transformation.
3. The Detoxification stage: Challenging all the negative beliefs taught by his environment and household. Replacing those negative beliefs with a true identity.
4. Then Contrition: Understanding the impact of our actions and then how to give back.
Make no mistake, many of us are imprisoned. What seem to effect society the most is the institutional prison that cost lots of money. You wouldn't have to be tough on crime if you are tougher on education. If you are tougher on understanding the root of the problem. I am a firm believer in prisonology because I realized the many prisons I was in. Granted if I was assisted in escaping those prisons. I then wouldn't be here now. I am no longer bound by the prison of my past. It is however my present condition I wrestle with.
Mainly because I have been reconstructed, remodeled, rebuilt, and. reborn. Never to offend again! Because I have a tremendous amount of self respect. So now I am able to love and respect others. Unfortunately it took them giving me all of this time in physical prison. To get out of the 17 year old prison that I was in. I stand to die in prison for something I did as a teen-ager. Wake up society this is real. The attention of this matter is important. "Just look at how many kids are dropping out of school. Versus how many are coming to prison. >
Tyrone Munson W.C.I #356816 P.O. Box 351 Waupun Wi 53963

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

history of this juvenile offender


Tyrone D Munson #35616
PO Box 351
Waupun , Wi 53963


I too was a Juvenile, first time offender who before my crime took place was not in trouble with the law. Never been to juve, did not even have a violent history. Got sentenced to 290 years in prison when I was 17 years old. At the mental age of a 12 year old. My crime was not a reflection of my daily living. But was a result of the many unresolved childhood issues I never had a chance to properly release. In turn I violently raped a women. Which in turn did not feed anything other than the hate, bitterness, anger, pain, and me being raped. Not only of my childhood innocents, but my ability to properly express what was taking place as a child. There will never be a right justification to what I've done. But I can say my actions now reflect that of a different person. From a boy to a man. The reality of this situation is even in prison. I still battle this hierarchy of what crime is the worst crime to commit.



You couldn't have told me that I would be in prison for sexual assault. Not only because I knew it was wrong but it was not socially acceptable in my community. Neither is it in prison, which I still can't understand how can one shun a rapist, but accept a murderer. That always puzzled me. For the simple fact both crimes you have taken the security away from that person. Except in a murder that person doesn't have to feel it. It will be the family who feels it so to me both are equally wrong. All in all unfortunately I have this jacket, and I have to wear it so I might-as-well speak out about it. The harsh reality is a lot of young as well as older men is coming to prison for rape. But many of them never get treatment. Most still deny it only because again it is socially "not cool"!



Yes I am ashamed of the things I've done but I refuse to continue to make it about me. I did the crime, and society wants me to do forever for what I did as a child. I truly believe that I can be of some assist-ance to come to understanding the why behind the will to do something so horrendous. I want to share my story in the hopes of enlightment. Not saying people won’t still have there opinions. However it will give one a pen point.


Written by: Echo DeVon (Tyrone D. Munson)