9/16/2014
Night before last, a spell was broken in the tank. There had been a long period of collegiality and good spirit in the tank for quite some time. Given the fluid nature of jail, that is unusual. There are about 10-14 people in here, including myself, who are more or less long term. Waiting for something. I'm waiting to sign papers so I can move to Harris County and do step 2 of the process. I have been waiting 2 weeks to sign what has been agreed to. The others are waiting for something or another.
But we all wait.
The second half are in and out. A few days or one night, they come and they go. I don't bother to talk to them unless they have been here more than a week. Mostly because I'm isolated from all but a handful.
But for the last month, the short term and long term, black and non-black, young and old alike, everyone has gotten along.
We were all too lulled. I heard several speak of it, the unusual camaraderie in the tank. I'd said it myself a week or so ago. My neighbor told me he was ready to "write himself out of here." That means request a job (or anything) that would necessitate being moved because he felt a change coming. I argued that it only takes one person- one person with a strong negative personality- to upset the balance.
That man hath cometh.
In a few short days he has started two fights. In one fight, he totally annihilated a much smaller guy. He yells and taunts people, (including me), all day and all night (said fight, above, occurred at about 3 am). No one is happy, the illusion is gone.
Of course, it was always an illusion. The frustration of being confined to a 1082 square feet for 24 men, 24 hours a day is bound to run over. It is inevitable. The negativity spreads too. There have been twice daily fights, threats and squabbling.
I read my books, write my letters, and stay out of the way. And I wait.
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