On Trust

Trusting someone is not the absence of getting hurt. Trust is one of the many risks we take in life and yes,  when we trust, there is always the potential of being disappointed or hurt. But, once we release our energy into the universe of trusting outside of ourselves, we then open up the portals of our minds to receive the ultimate treasures that accompanies trusting someone.

In order to trust someone, we must intrinsically possess this quality. Opening yourself up to trust someone is not about trusting that person; it is about having the capacity to trust yourself. To trust is allotted to each of us during the impressionable stages of our adolescence. The euphoria of childish credulity injects an automated reflect to trust, so we innately posses this quality. Along the tumultuous road of our lives, with each and  every encounter, the power of trust appears to become diluted. But, trust should realistically function like a reset button - we should not allow negative experiences with any one person to spill over and affect our next experience with trusting someone else. Rather, we should learn from that experience - eliminate the pain and refocus. The moment we stop trusting ourselves is the moment trust appears skewed or even non-existent. We can blame it on the negative experiences we have encountered, however, trust essentially loses its power when we no longer trust who we are.

Greatness

Let us not pass up the opportunity in becoming greater than we were yesterday. There is this powerful force of energy compelling us to do something different. To be something different, and to make a difference in someone else's greatness. Yes, let us not give in to the negative energy that can easily entangle us. But rather give into the positive light that looks to shine through you.  Carpediem

I AM HUMAN

I AM HUMAN. What exactly does that mean? How is it even possible to be a human in this institution called prison; in this diminutive space where individuals are sentenced to live, to survive day in and day out, forgotten by the majority and cared for by few?

For 22 years I have lived in this institution called prison. And, for some time now I have lived my day-to-day life by the biblical concept of not boasting about my own abilities; I adhere to being humble and allowing others to praise my accomplishments. And yet, because I have been unknown and forgotten by the majority, I believe that my consciousness and growth is worthy of mention. With great humility, and a lifestyle of worship, I thank Jesus Christ, my God, my Lord and Savior for the strength I now have; he hasn't been just a small part of my life, he has become my life. It was only through my faith in the power of God and, my own willingness to confront my brokenness and insecurities, that I was able to survive under the stench of this gravesite called prison, where human potential is buried alive under the false notion that every prisoner is incorrigible. I chose to go where few are willing to go - inside myself. I became vulnerable and emotionally raw and I have been in a surgical state ever since. Through my faith, counseling and healthy relationships I have developed over the years, I have become a selfless man. At this point, I am the first person to speak in pure disgust of the horrid behaviors that lead to my incarceration. Please try to understand this though.....long before this physical confinement, I was already trapped and being held captive. I read long ago that "freedom is a state of mind, not of being." I was imprisoned the moment I bought into the lie that I was worthless, the moment I believed that I was ugly. I was held captive after each and every time I was mentally abused or bullied. Emotionally stripped because of constant verbal abuse; my identity void of any form or shape, radically defined by molestation. 

Research suggests that "adolescent brains are shaped by experiences in early life." and,  that "the years between 6 and 14—middle childhood and early adolescence—are a time of important developmental advances that establish children's sense of identity."
Believe me when I say that I did not aspire to be the worst of myself. As a child I did have dreams. I wanted to be a policeman; I wanted to be a fire fighter and I believed at one point that I could be a doctor.   Unfortunately, at a very young age, my self-worth was stolen
and consequently all of my adolescent year's were spent believing that I did not matter,  that I did not have a voice for the years of abuse I endured. Most adults have had the opportunity to learn how to effectively manage emotions, but to put that expectation on a child, to properly process physical, sexual, and emotional abuse, is absurd!  For kids, emotions often feel like a runaway train;  they show up suddenly, crashing. Internally I was on fire, burning; I felt excruciating pain, but as a child I did not know how to properly process what I was experiencing, nor did I have anyone to help me process my emotions - a sure track to failure and inadequacy. To believe that on top of me being abused and I in turn abusing drugs and alcohol at the young age nine that I would some how have self-love is again absurd! I remember wishing that I was dead at the age of seven - at the age of seven year's old! Come on people! That was the time when I should not have had a care in the world! Because of my unstable environment and conflicted family life,
I never got to feel the joy and freedom of being a child;
I was often so sad and afraid that I did not want to live. I essentially lost my childhood.
Those were also the impressionable years, when I was vulnerable, susceptible to and easily influenced by the harmful and hurtful attitudes and behaviors of others close to me; a critical time in my life to establish healthy behaviors. At the age of 17, I could no longer take it. Every vicious word, every punch from bullies, every beating from my mother manifested itself. Every sex act I was forced to perform, every rejection, I could no longer hold it in. I was hurting so terribly but no one helped me.  So those were the ingredients that produced my actions, my perceptions during my adolescent years, and the way I digested the abuse, manifested itself in a vicious way.

I am not claiming that I was innocent in the least bit. As a child I was extremely troubled and I projected it on others -  undeserving people who would become the host of my hell. In my right mind there is absolutely no way that I can accept, nor excuse such behavior. But, please don't disregard the fact that I too was abused; I was misinformed and lied to. This is my past and part of my healing process is embracing all of me. So, while it is true that I may not have felt safe, loved or enough as a child, I eventually felt the importance of taking responsibility for my life—for how those old wounds kept me disempowered, and for the impact they had on those around me. I believed that I needed to reclaim my power, my freedom to choose to be how I wanted to be, and to have the capacity to live a joyful life, despite my current circumstances. I knew that I needed to find that place within me where I felt loved and enough.

I am no longer controlled by unresolved childhood issues; I have not allowed those issues to spill over into my adulthood. I am not a man-child. I am driven by such a powerful force of grace and mercy that my heart is saturated with a wealth of love. I have such an appreciation for the processes of self-discovery, self-respect, and self-love. These attributes were absent in my youth. I was robbed of my birthright to be cultivated in love; robbed of the opportunity to have unlimited access to properly develop and reach my greatest potential. I turned instead, into the ugliness that was inflicted upon me. One can not expect me to care about anyone outside of myself when I was taught to hate my own skin. Some would think, "In the midst of the living dead, what good could come out of the grave?"

I am now an adult but, in this day and age, what does this really mean? To me it means contribution. It means empowering myself and others to be the very best that they can be.  Should I get a chance to prove that I can thrive in society? With all of the love and support I have had throughout my journey and with all the love and support I now have, should I get a chance to prove how sorry I really am? I am not a monster and almost 23 years of consistently being selfless proves that. I love myself and it took time to do that and, as a result of self-love, I genuinely know how to celebrate others. I have allowed my faith in God, the love of all my supporters and therapy to transform my whole foundational truth and that was astronomical! But I did it!

And now, because I believe I exemplify the true embodiment of metamorphosis,  I heartily plead for one chance. One chance to become a study for college students as well as to further my own education. One chance to be a pillar of my community. One chance to stand in front of a church service and share my testimony.   One chance to work with troubled youth because in my own right, with the work I have done to rebuild myself and assist others, I am a motivational speaker and a personal trainer.
I would love nothing more than to take my mother out to dinner; to shower my daughter with the love she deserves and the  benefit of a father's presence in her life. I would love to spend quality time with my girlfriend.

I believe I am a living testament that hard work and a desire to be greater than the less of myself has produced strength and greatness. Each day I wake up is a blessing. I was determined not to remain in captivity therefore, I am no longer internally imprisoned. I am considerate, I listen, I express my emotions in a healthy manner and I am not afraid to cry. I always look to help others. I feel obligated to bring to light my actions; I am committed to breaking the cycle of silence when it comes to male abuse and I am committed to being a voice for women who have been sexually abused.  I recently read this quote, "To get out of the average trap, you need to find your purpose. As a result, you’ll live your destiny." I believe that I am living my destiny. I am not afraid to live in truth. One day I strongly desire to get out of prison, but the most important desire was to first get the prison out of me. I believed that if I didn't first go through the difficult, labor intensive and exhausting transformation of conquering my brokenness there was no way that I could care about all of the pain I've caused. I also believed that if I was not sincere about change I didn't deserve a chance at freedom.

I am motivated, I have positive energy and I encourage everyone around me to be better. I like to make people laugh and l have a big heart. I care about everything and everyone. I promote self worth the most. Why? Because if an individual doesn't care, "truly care" about themselves then there is not going to be a human connection to care about someone else. I came to prison at the age of 17 and I will soon be 40 years old. Over the years my adult self has helped my adolescent self heal and grow. Because of this I have been, and will continue on a life-long mission. If greatness can be produced in me, then I know that those who don't believe that they have that same greatness, truly need my help. I am no longer a threat to society, I am a thread. Today I aspire to give back to the community; to help those kids struggling now without love and support and to guide them on their journeys to greatness. I want to be a part of the many, yet unfortunately still too few, social justice programs in our communities.

I genuinely thank you for taking the time to read this letter and please, let's begin a dialogue. Hopefully this has opened your minds and your hearts and if nothing else, has opened your eyes to my reality, and to the reality of many others within these walls.  I AM HUMAN.
#iamhumantoo

On Love

It is impossible to capsulize the incandescent passion that exudes from the power of love. The true essence of love not only permeates through the hearts of those in it's wake, but it penetrates the fortified layers and walls that might have been constructed around the perimeter of one's heart to keep at bay those who pose as an imposter of love. We do many things "in the name of love" or "for the sake of love", yet we unconsciously ignore it's intricacies. 

Intrinsic love does not conform; it does not assimilate, nor does it settle into a monotonous pattern of a mundane marriage or relationship. The highest expression of love is manifested in the form of God's love, but the human experience or expression of love is experiencing more of who you are; to expand the limitations that were etched on the canvas of your heart as a result of synthetic love. Synthetic love mimics the real thing. It gets you high, yet it deceives the receptors of your mind; it tricks you into believing that instead of becoming a better you, you become a lesser version of your created being. It's as if you have to compromise your individuality. 

Authentic love on the other hand, enhances your ability to see your self-worth. It heightens your awareness and promotes truth. It never stops searching for the treasures buried deep inside your core. Love searches the depths of your soul to reignite the fires long since put out due to complacency. The number one law of love, evolution, has been disrespected. Love evolves to a higher degree of love. Love never stops challenging you. Love never stops being responsive and receptive. Love celebrates, and appreciates and steps up every single day to be held accountable.

Love has a definitive view of what beauty looks like and understands that external beauty is subjective, while internal beauty is priceless. Love sees pass the blemishes, wrinkles, grey hair, stretch marks and weight gain. The ultimate task of love is to assist in helping one to embrace their insecurities, all while breaking unhealthy habits, not by force, but by example. Love is truthful and complimentary as well. Sorry, but love doesn't hurt, it heals. It looks you into the eye with sincerity and tells you how blessed it is to have you. It is honored to have an opportunity to be a vessel to pour God's love into you. All you have to do is wake up and love will take it from there. There is absolutely no abuse in love! In love, petty disputes do not fester into raging fueds. Love leaves no room for insults and with love we never go to bed angry at one another. Being in love lets you know that to offend each other is equivalent to holding your breath under water.

There are addendums to love - the feelings of elation, anticipation, the intoxicating feeling, the longing to be around the energy of love, missing the presence of love. Love activates the five senses - the touch, the smell, the taste, the hearing and the sight of your glory. Colors remind you of love's language. There's laughter, music, food, dancing, tears of joy. There are many attachments to love, but love really stands on it's own. Love lingers longer than the honeymoon phases of ecstasy. Love wraps it's arm around you and tells you that you are worthy, that you are protected and that it respects you. Even your imperfections are perfect because they only make up the subtotal of your whole self. At your core, you were created pure. Before you were predisposed to a false representation of love, you were free; there was no inhibition, no reservations and, your capacity to trust was limitless. 

As I said at the very beginning, it is difficult to capsulize love. Even with these finite words, love is so much more! 

How much time is enough?

After 20 years, I remain in a war zone fighting for my physical freedom, all while attempting to preserve my mental, emotional and spiritual freedom. Everyday of the 20 years that I have been incarcerated has been spent reconstructing the damage and trauma caused to me in my childhood. Twenty years in a prison cell has been spent rediscovering and redefining my humanity. I was not remotely comfortable with the manner in which I treated what I now know to be the greatest creation on earth, aside from a precious child. To this day it continues to be difficult to digest all of the hurt and heartache that I have caused and I do believe that I deserved to come to prison. Yet the question still remains,  "How much time is enough time for me to be able to prove that I am not the same individual that I was?" Almost 21 years served and my mentality and my everyday behaviors reflect a genuine transformation.

Please understand that prison is an unforgiving and unrelentingly environment; it constantly reminds you of how horrible of a person you really are. There are no accolades or incentives for accomplishments, yet punishment is swift. So, bear in mind that changing for the better is not inevitable, especially when a child is sentenced to 290 years in a broken prison system. Along my journey for redemption and self-discovery there has been an awakening for me. I don't know if it was because of my determination to discover why and how I could get to the point of displaying such ugliness on undeserving human beings, or because goodness is innately a strong character trait and it was buried beneath all of the falsehood and brokenness. All I know you guys is that everything I have worked extremely hard to accomplish is in jeopardy. I know many of you reading this will say, "So what? You are getting what you deserve!" I get that. Ignorance (not knowing), prevents you from seeing the reciprocal need for the same mercy many of you desperately needed at one point in your life. Despite popular opinion, I have not succumbed, nor have I assimilated to the concentrated, toxic negativity that engulfs this prison 

Yet, how much longer does one expect me to sustain under the deep pressures of the raging water that looks to drown me? I exemplify a profound amount of sorrow, regret, sympathy and empathy; every fiber in my being looks to bring out the best in myself and others. As much as I wish, hope and pray that I can take back every hurt, every pain and every experience that came at the hands of my brokenness, I can't; just as I cannot undo the abuse that I endured. I can only strive to be the man that I am today. I am not looking to be celebrated, because a huge part of my penitance is to be selfless. If you were to ask me, "What is one of the most important lessons that I have learned since my incarceration?", it would be that I am a part of something greater than myself; that I'm on a harmonious level with humanity, interconnected.  

I hurt parts of me and others that were hurting; I damaged and destroyed the parts of me and others that had been damaged and destroyed. The individuals that I hurt was the manifestation of all the hurt I had endured; by being hurt, I hurt others. And, on the opposite spectrum, by being healed, I can help heal others, if they are open and willing to heal. I am frustrated and tired of having what I have done overshadow the decent and caring human being that I have become. For anyone in prison, that is an extraordinary feat! NO ONE wants to be judged and condemned for their worst mistake as a child. Current research now shows that adolescents differ from adults in the way they behave, solve problems, and make decisions; an adolescent brain continues to mature and develop throughout adolescence and well into early adulthood. Prison robs one of any real meaningful opportunity to grow into and express their best self and to love. I feel like I am buried alive! I am being suffocated by the constant mistreatment and negativity that accompanies being in prison. Again, many of you will say, "You are getting what you have coming to you!". I firmly believe that this response is very unfortunate because many people in society are not knowledgeable of the dynamics of incarceration and have become insensitive and extremely  vengeful - a vengeance that if you were in my shoes,  you would be urgently and eagerly seeking the same mercy. The mercy I seek is for the transgressions of my youth, a chance for redemption, not to be released and be a nuisance to society. My intentions are to make an impact on society and specifically on my community in a meaningful, tangible and positive way. 

I sincerely thank you for and truly appreciate the time you have taken to read this post. Please encourage others in your circle to do the same. I look forward to hearing your feedback and hope that I have inspired you and/or given you something to ponder. Future posts of mine will hopefully do the same.

Sincerely, 

Devon

Tyrone Muson Affidavit

Tyrone D Munson #356816

GBCI;PO Box 19033

Green Bay, WI 54307

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.

          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

new troubles/ near death experience

https://ffupstuff.files.wordpress.com/2016/06/tyrone-munson-for-blog-6-12-16-1.pdf

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

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.

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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