Living the life of a lie

The story of Greggory Davis

You are not here to absolve me for what I did. You are here to see how my so called crime destroyed me, and how I have recast myself from all this trouble.

We all have made choices to get where we are today. If we stand at the gate of change and look back, some of us can pin point and exact moment when things started to go wrong. For others that moment may be blurred, we all know that we have spun out of control ever since. For me it was a little of both. I did not walk into kindergarten career day and say, "When I grow up I want to spend a large chuck of my life in prison, and cause my family a great deal of pain." That was however, the path that I did choose. Believe it or not. I was once an honor-roll student. Then when I was 16 we moved in the early summer to an entire different city, and everything changed. If you've ever moved, you may already be familiar with some of the dynamics of making new friends, There is an initiation process. To get in with the cool kids, you have to show them that you're cool. To get in with the jocks, you have to be a good athlete. But to get in with the 'Bad kids' all you have to do is be BAD. That's the easy thing to do. I made a choice. The easy one. When we moved to Canon City in 2000. I was used to having the whole world laid out for me. I had been born with the gifts of intelligence, coordination, and athleticism. Even in the best scenarios, change is difficult on kids. I had absolutely no reference point that would tell me that things were going to be ok. What I did have was a list of unknowns a mile long.I decided that the best thing to do would be to make friends with somebody, anybody, just so I wouldn't have to be alone. A few blocks away, was the perfect group, for a new kid. There was no requirements for being their friend. I didn't have to prove myself. I didn't have to show I was cuter, funnier, or better at bullying. These were the 'bad kids'. All I had to do, to hang out with them, was to be bad. Sure I had moments of conscience that told me that I wasn't supposed to be smoking a joint, or stealing money from my Mom's purse, but they were quickly

overcome by the feeling of excitement over not getting caught and relief at having made friends. I was not going to be an outcast, as I had feared. I have found a group. Even better at the center of that group, shining like a beacon to my newly relocated soul, was the girl of my dreams. I was drawn to her with all of the force that can be mustered by the raging hormones of a 16 year old boy. If she smoked pot. I sure as heck was going to as well. Even better, she helped me let go of some of my reservations because she was an athlete too. If she could live in both worlds, co could I. Because of my drug use I ended up losing this woman in my later future. She was the woman I should have spent the rest of my life with. But as any book has it, The story

must go on. In my mind, I had it made. I would be able to enter school without too much harassment for being the 'new kid', and I was enjoying the thrill of being the 'bad kid.' I started sneaking out at night to hang out with the group, I would screw around with my girlfriend, and smoke weed. I needed to finance the pot and subsequent munchies, so I started taking money from my Mom's purse. After all she would never notice, after all parents are dumb right? I even started selling drugs to support my habit. To my amazement, my parents weren't so dumb after all. It didn't take long before they stopped looking at me like I was the golden child and started questioning my every move. My mom did everything she could do, she even got the law involved in my life at an early age. She could only hold out hope that this was a temporary phase. Only if she knew now what she didn't know then. The law being involved in my life was the worst thing that could have ever happened. I haven't been out of the system yet to this date. I fed my mother's delusion like I fed my own habit. Why shouldn't I? It's not like I was really in trouble, right? They were dumb rules anyways. I wasn't a baby and I didn't need a curfew. To top it off. I was so mad at my mom for moving me away from my home , that I figured she got what she deserved. My Step-Dad made my daily life miserable. I was using his past to make his life downright uncomfortable. I'd show him. What he did in the past wasn't looking so good now, was it? He would come home mad at the world, my Mother would begin intervening on my behalf almost instantly. It's amazing their marriage has stood up, after what he has done to us kids. Life at home was no holiday, that gave me more reason to stay away, and do more drugs. Frankly, they were so busy and distracted by arguing over what was going to happen to me, that I could generally slip out during the fray practically unnoticed. I discovered much to my shock, that it's incredibly hard to balance a habit and the responsibilities of everyday life. By then I had graduated to smoking pot every day, and was even starting to experiment with some harder stuff. I had the benefit of drugs to help relieve my conscience of any clarity that might have interceded at this point. The drugs has already taken over and I was starting to lead a not-so-double life. With this new addicted me playing the lead role. Thanks to the drugs and alcohol. I no longer had the coordination, or stamina. My young brain just couldn't make sense of it all. When I couldn't make sense of it. I let the

paranoia flow in. The beautiful thing about paranoia is that is absolves you of blame. It's always SOMEONE ELSE'S fault. Of course, the only people who were giving me guidance at this point were my 'Friends.' Talking to my parents was out of the question, because we were all too busy yelling at each other. It was just easier to let it go and put all of my efforts into my new identity. Gregg Davis-Drug/alcohol user. My addiction had started out as casual marijuana use, just occasionally on weekends, but it had grown quickly. Before I knew it, and it seemed like overnight, drugs and alcohol had become the most important thing in my life. With-in the span of two years my life degraded so much that soon every event, intention, and action had to do with acquiring and using drugs or alcohol. At this point, I was so far gone that I really don't think I was welcome at my own family dinner table, it seemed like. My name probably brought misery, pain and anger to the conversations. I immediately turned to the only profession that could feed my habit and pay the bills at the same time. I dealt drugs. It was obvious that this was the only occupation that would allow me to support a habit that had now grown to the point of daily use. At this point, I was climbing further out on a limb. Some of my 'bad' friends began to see the error of their ways and began to pull back. Others were able to keep their impulses in check and function in society. Not me. My whole world was not about 3 things only. Me, Alcohol, and staying high. I tried working at a string of meaningless jobs, they were a cover for my activities as a drug dealer, and my main desire was to party all the time. In my party days I met this one girl and we got together on the first night. I soon discovered alcohol and drugs are the most unhealthy things for a relationship. I did things to a woman that should NEVER be done. All these actions were reactions to the actions she placed upon me. I eventually got her pregnant. In a truly awkward attempt at being a responsible person. I'd been before the drug days. We tried to set up a life of our own, and moved in with each other. Shortly before our son was born I was hurt working in the oil field. When I awoke. I thought I was blind. I opened my eyes and could see only purple darkness, ominous and shapeless shadows stirring within others shadows. Before I could panic, that gloom gave way to a pale haze, and the haze resolved into white acoustic tile ceilings. I could taste fresh bed linens, antiseptics, disinfectants and rubbing alcohol. I turned my head, and pain flashed the length of my forehead, as if an electric shock has snapped through my skull from temple to temple. My eyes immediately swam in my skull when I tried to focus. When my vision cleared again. I saw that I was in a hospital room. I could not remember being admitted to a hospital. I didn't even know the name of it, or in what city I was located in. "What's wrong with me." I raised one dismayingly weak arm, put a hand to my brow, and discovered a bandage over half of my forehead. I had insufficient strength to keep my arm raises. I let it drop back to the mattress. I couldn't raise my left arm at all, for it was taped to a heavy board and pierced by a needle. I was being fed intravenously; the chrome IV rack, with its dangling bottle of glucose, stood beside the bed. For a moment I closed my eyes, certain that I was only

dreaming. When I looked again however the room was still there. Unchanged white ceiling, white walls, a green tile floor, pale yellow drapes drawn back at the sides of the large window. The side rails on my bed were raised to prevent me from falling to the floor. I felt as helpless as a baby in a crib. I realized I didn't know my name, or my age, or for that matter I didn't know anything about myself. I strained against the blank wall in my mind, attempting to topple it and release the memories imprisoned on the other side. I had no success, the wall stood inviolate like a blossom of frost, fear opted icy petals in the pit of my stomach. I tried harder to remember, but has no success. "Amnesia, Brain Damage." Those dreaded words landed with the force of hammer blows in my mind. Evidently I had been in an accident and had sustained a serious head injury. I considered the grim prospect of permanent mental disorientation, and I shuddered suddenly, however unexpected and unsought. My name came to me. Gregg Davis. I was 22 years old. the anticipated flood of recollection turned out to be just a trickle. I could recall nothing more than my name or age. Although I probed insistently at the darkness in my mind. I couldn't remember where I lived. How did I earn a living? Was I married? Did I have children? Where was I born? Where did I got to school? What food did I like? What was my favorite music or sports team? I could find no answers to any of these important trivial questions. "Brain damage?" Fear quickened my heart beat. The last thing I could recall was my girlfriend in a camper trailor with me, listening to the radio, enjoying a clear blue afternoon. Nothing after that. I awoke confused and blurry-eyed in the hospital. "Well, well, Hello there Mr. Davis." I turned my head, searching for the person who had spoken. My eyes slipped focus again, and anew dull pain pulsed at the base of my skull. "How are you feeling? You do look pale, but after what you've been through, that certainly to be expected." The voice belonged to a nurse who was approaching the bed from the direction of the open door. She was pleasantly plump, gray-haired woman, with warm brown eyes and a wide smile. She wore a pair of white framed glasses on a beaded chain around her neck. At that moment, the glasses hung unused on her matronly bosom. I tried to speak but I couldn't. Even the meager effort of straining for words made me so light-headed that I though I might pass out. My extreme weakness scared me. The nurse reached the bed and smiled reassuringly. "I knew you'd come out of it honey, I just knew it. Some people around here weren't so sure." She pushed the call button on the head board. I tried to speak again, and this time I managed to make a sound, Though it was only a low and meaningless gurgle in the back of my throat. Suddenly I wondered If I would ever speak again. Perhaps I would be condemned to making grunting, animal noises for the rest of my life. Sometimes brain damage resulted in loss of speech. A drum was booming loudly and relentlessly in my head. I seemed to be turning on a carousel. Faster and faster, and I wished I could put a stop to the rooms nauseating movement.

The nurse must have seen the panic in my eyes. For she said "Easy now, Easy kid, everything will be alright." She checked my IV drip, then lifted my right wrist to time my pulse. Then I thought OMG if I can't speak , maybe I can't walk either. I tried to move my legs under the sheets. I didn't seem to have any feeling in them. They were even more numb and stiff than my arms were. The nurse let go of my wrist. I clutched at the sleeve of the woman and tried desperately to speak. "Take your time," she said gently. I knew I didn't have much time. I was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness again. The pounding pain in my head was accompanied by a steadily encroaching ring of darkness. It spread inward from the edges of my vision. A doctor in a white lab coat entered the room, apparently in answer to the call button that the nurse had pushed. He was a husky sour-faced man, about fifty. I looked at him as he approached the bed, and I said "are my legs paralyzed." For an instant I thought I had actually spoken those words aloud, but then realized, I still hadn't regained my voice. Before I could try again, the rapidly expanding darkness reduced my vision to a small spot, a mere dot. Then a pinpoint. Darkness. When I woke again my head ache was gone. My vision was clear, and I was no longer dizzy. the IV rack had been taken away. My needle marked discolored arm looked pathetically thin against the white sheet. I turned and saw the man in the white lab coat. He was standing beside the bed, staring down at me. His brown eyes possessed a peculiar, disturbing power. They seemed to be looking into me rather than at me. As if he were carefully examining my inner most secrets, yet they were eyes that reveled nothing whatsoever of his own feelings. They were as flat as painted glass. "What's......happened.....t too toooo me?? I could speak after all. My voice was faint, raspy and rather difficult to understand, but I was not reduced to a mute existence by a stroke or by some other severe brain injury, which was what I feared at first. I was still weak. My meager resources were noticeably depleted even by the act of speaking a few words at a whisper. "Where am I?" My throat burned, with the passage of each rough syllable. He lifted my bed, tilting me into a sitting position. He put the controls down and half filled a glass with cold water, from a metal carafe. "Sip slowly," he said. "It's been a while since you've taken any food or liquid orally." I accepted the water. It was indescribably delicious. It soothed my irritated throat. When I finished drinking, he took the glass from me and returned it to the night stand. He unclipped a pen light from his lab coat, leaned close and examined my eyes. While I waited for him to finish the examination. I tried to move my legs under the covers. They were weak and rubbery and still somewhat numb, but they moved at my command. I wasn't paralyzed after all. When the doctor finished examining my eyes, he held his right hand in front of my face, just a few inches away from me. "Can you see my hand?" My voice was faint and quivery, but at least it was not longer raspy or difficult to understand. He said " How many fingers and I holding up?" "Three" I said. Aware he

was testing me for signs of concussion still. He then held up 2 then 4 fingers. He nodded approval, and the sharp creases in his forehead softened a bit. He then asked me my name, "Gregg Davis" I replied. He asked me a series of questions, in which I was able to answer. "Very good, you seem to be clear headed." My voice had become dry and scratchy again. I cleared my throat and said "That's about all I'm able to remember. What's wrong with me." I asked shakily. He blinked in surprise. He smiled sheepishly. clearly, smiles didn't come easily to him, and this one was strained. "Well... I'm concerned about you, of course. I want to know what were up against here." Temporary amnesia is to be expected in a case like mine. If I was treated in time. But if I was suffering from more than amnesia. Well he said " We will have to change our entire approach." So you see, it's important for me to know something's. After an injury like mine, I wasn't supposed to recuperate overnight. I had lots of questions to ask him, but my curiosity was equaled by my bone-deep weariness and exceeded by my thirst. I slumped back against the pillow to catch my breath, and asked for more water. He poured only a third of the glass this time. As before he warned me to take small sips. After a few ounces I felt slightly bloated, as if I'd eaten a full course dinner. I looked at him and said. "I don't know your name?" "Oh I'm sorry It's Dr.Fox." "I'm chief physician here and the head of medical staff. I performed your surgery." Surgery? What are you talking about. "He said with personal attention, it often makes an enormous difference in the rate of your recovery." His voice contained no trace of pride or enthusiasm, as it ought to have, considering what he was saying. Or was it just me? I wondered if my perceptions are out of wack! In spite of my weariness and in spite of the hammering that had just started up again inside my skull. I raised my head and said "Doctor, why am I here? What happened to me? "You don't recall anything about your accident?" "No, what accident?" I replied. "You were at work, and a pressure gauge popped 2800 psi and hit you in the forehead. It's truly a miracle you are still with us today." I gingerly touched the bandage that covered half my forehead. "How bad is it Doc? Dr. Fox thick dark eyebrows drew together again, and it suddenly seemed to me that his expression was theatrical, not genuine. "Its not too serious, the best thing for your recover is going to be time. A wide gash, and you bled heavily, and it is healing rather quickly. Your stitches are scheduled to come out tomorrow or the day after, and I really don't believe there'll be any real bad scarring when you heal up. We took considerable care to make sure the wound was neatly sewn. You were in a coma." I had been growing more tired and getting a headache by the minute. The last words I remember him saying were " We did a brain scan of course, but we didn't find any indication of an embolism. There wasn't any swelling of the brain tissue either. There is no build up of fluid in the skull, and no signs what so ever of crania pressure. You did take a hard knock on the head, and with the meds. It surely had something to do with the coma, but we can't be much more specific than that." After what I have experienced, contrary to what the television medical dramas would have you believe, modern medicine doesn't always have an answer for everything. What's important is that I came out of my coma and my whole experience

with no apparent long-term effects. I am fully deaf in my right ear, and occasionally I wear glasses to help my right eye, and cause less headaches

I was prescribed every medication under the sun. After my addictions in the past this was the last thing I needed to be around. When working in the oil field, around a bunch of guys who need drugs to do their job, that only fueled my drug use. I was selling anywhere between 5 and 11 ounces of cocaine a day. Man was the money good, yet the high was better. That high fed into my desire to go to the bar and I was drinking and doing cocaine and drinking alcohol very recklessly. These combinations all combined were not good for our relationship. This was the first time I really had serious contact with the law. Drugs combined with alcohol and a bad relationship. I was set on a course to end one of two ways. Prison, or death. Bringing a child into this world is supposed to be a beautiful thing. Bringing Kamdyn into this world was not. I would look into his crib knowing that I had just helped create a life, a new person, a person whom I knew I would hurt somehow. So I did. I later abandoned him, and he became yet another person on the long list of those who were devastated by my drug and alcohol addiction. Bringing my son into this world should have been the most beautiful even in my life. With all the trouble between his mother, and our addictions, tucked firmly at the top of our priority list. It wasn't beautiful at ALL. I made a choice, I could have chosen my family, my son, or sobriety, I chose drugs and alcohol because it was easier.

After years of putting up with my lying, drug-addicted ways, Chelsea and I split and went separate ways. I could tell she never had my best interest at heart. She only wanted pain in my life. Chelsea took sole custody of Kamdyn. I didn't think that there was a more downhill spiral road left in my life, but I quickly discovered that the gutter has amazing depth. I reached the point where I stayed so high throughout the day, on cocaine, prescriptions drugs, crack, alcohol, ecstasy, and anything else I could get my hands on other than meth, and heroin. There were days I could not perform even the simplest task. Picture my situation, by this time I had burned every bridge I'd ever built with family and friends. There was nights I slept in seedy hotels, slept on the streets. I was getting beyond desperate. I was about to reach the end of my rope. I was either going to end up dead or in prison. I had no alternative. Confronting my life, acknowledging the person I had become and the things I had done along the road, while going through my withdrawals.. I had made so many bad decisions that finding a path to a better life had grown into a monumental feat in my mind. It was just too hard, so I took the easy path. It was easier to take a hit and live with-in the sweet release of apathy. Then the unexpected happened. Rather than overdosing or getting myself killed. I was caught. My ex-girlfriend, Who was obviously no fan of mine. We were parting at Rock Jam, on bad terms as is. She called the cops on me and said I kidnapped her. How crazy is this. It was late at night I happened to have a gun and once she called the cops on me, I planned on gong out in a blaze of glory. No way was I going to prison over something I know I didn't do. The next day I went over to her house to get my vehicle and she told the police where I was going to be. It was early in the morning and they knew I had a gun. So their goal was to get me to come out of her house peacefully. I headed outside to my vehicle wearing just flip-flops and shorts. Halfway there, I realized something was going on. The next thing I knew, there were a dozen guns drawn on me. I had no opportunity to point a gun at them, which meant my plan had failed. They weren't going to end my miserable existence for me as planned.

At the time, naturally I was not happy with my ex-girlfriend. But in retrospect, she literally saved my life. I had no doubt whatsoever that I would have died on the path I was on. Now because of her I was getting my alternative, Prison. I was offered a 2 year deferred sentence for menacing, more on that later. Here is what happens in the next chapter of my life. I decided I was going to try my hand in as an entrepreneur So when I decided I was going to open up medical marijuana dispensaries My first article that came out in news papers was as follows:

Medical marijuana advocates cropping up on Western Slope

GLENWOOD SPRINGS, Colorado " Medical marijuana seems to be growing on the Western Slope. A Grand Junction man plans to set up a storefront for a medical marijuana dispensary soon, and the THC Foundation of Denver has said it sees enough demand on the Western Slope that it wants to establish a permanent facility in Glenwood Springs or somewhere nearby in the future to help people obtain medical marijuana permits. Gregg Davis, of Grand Junction, plans to establish a full-service medical marijuana dispensary in Grand Junction in June. William Hewitt, of Montrose, also reportedly has plans to open a dispensary instead of operating out of his home. "What we're wanting to offer is something so THC patients know they have a place to come and they're safe," Davis said. Davis said he's meeting with the city attorney and is still working on getting a location. "It might be downtown. It may even be next to the police department," he said. The dispensary would be called "The Therapeutic Herbal Center." Davis is considering having the dispensary offer a variety of services such as massage. He said many people who have medical marijuana permits are over 60 and suffer from chronic pain.

"When you talk to some of these people it almost makes you want to cry," he said. As of Jan. 31, there were 37 people in Garfield County with medical marijuana permits, 6 in Pitkin County, and 133 in Mesa County. About 5,051 people have active, valid medical marijuana permits in Colorado, according to the Colorado Department of Public Health and Environment. That's about twice what it was a year ago. Davis said there are 309 patients with permits in Garfield, Mesa, Delta, Montrose, and Gunnison counties combined. Davis became interested in medical marijuana and got a permit in 2006 after suffering a head injury. He said he was in a coma and had to have brackets and plates put in his head. He said he's been growing medical marijuana for the past two years and took classes through the Cannabis University of Denver. The THC Foundation of Denver also sees demand for medical marijuana on the Western Slope. It held its first clinic in Glenwood Springs late last year. The foundation, which helps eligible patients obtain medical marijuana permits, does a remote clinic whenever there's enough people requesting one. A spokesman for the foundation said there must be a minimum of around 35 people attending a clinic to cover the expenses of bringing a doctor out to a remote location and conducting the clinic. It costs over $3,000 to take a doctor to a remote clinic and meet with people. Patients must forward their medical records to the foundation, pass an initial screening, then visit with one the doctors and get a signature on an application for a medical marijuana permit. The THC Foundation believes there is enough demand to eventually establish a permanent facility in the area, but that would probably be a few years down the road. Colorado's Amendment 20 allows people to receive medical marijuana cards for certain diseases and chronic pain, but it's still illegal under federal law. Davis said Colorado is considering limiting the number of medical marijuana users one caregiver can grow marijuana for to five, which would make it tough to keep enough marijuana for patients. He encourages medical marijuana supporters to attend a rally at noon on March 18 at Denver City Hall to oppose the proposed limitations.

Contact Davis at 970-623-1669 or gregg_thcwithtlc@yahoo.com, or contact the THC Foundation at 303-403-9996 for more information I successfully ran my Dispensaries until I was convicted of Tampering with a witness and was sent to prison. New Colorado law stated that a felon could not own or operate a dispensary.

I faced 3 challenges when I left home every day. The intoxication of wine, the lure of money, and the temptation of the opposite sex. Or also knows as booze, bucks and booty. To stand strong against these I had to focus on the importance of my assignments and task at hand. If I responded with diligence. it will give me a greater strength for my next challenge. The women in my life have set expectations for me without fully understanding what it means for me to be a man. My mom had hers, sister's had theirs, and the women I loved had yet another. Having attempted to respond to them all . The end story was. (I gave up.) I spent the next 3 years cultivating an image that would please women. I would rehearse the lines and dress in a way that I would appeal to a special woman. In doing so, I in fact presented myself as bait. As a result looking back, this kind of thinking and the image I was trying to project appealed only to the carnal side of a woman. I aimed to

please her fallen nature rather than attract her via the divine nature. I succeeded only attracting the deceitful lust in a woman. Now that I can accept my role of responsibility and accountability, especially in unfavorable circumstances. I'll emerge from all this stronger and wiser with a greater sense of who I really am. When I dare to model responsibility, and do so diligently. The woman in my life will begin to have a different relationship with me, and different expectations. I hope she will have confidence, and feel confident because she will know the real me. This place I desire, but I have previously excluded because I acted macho rather than stepping up and being a man. I discovered over these next three years I was committed to the wrong women. I encountered woman who had been hurt many times before, upon meeting me. They decided that it was their turn to take advantage of me. Our common solution was to lay responsibility for repairing our relationships on the offended party. They needed me to believe they didn't know what they were doing, or they finally realized they were doing something hurtful to me. These women felt I should continue to treat them well, yet they were content with being unappreciated. Their words could not be depended on, they actually responded better to negative treatment. In order for me to stay committed in a relationship with women like this. I had to change some of my positive attributes. I became less forgiving, I had to become callous in my interactions, my kindness was interpreted as a weakness. By now you might be thinking "Why would I want to change my character just to be in a relationships with someone like this." That right there is my point exactly. There are some things a person should never have to understand or forgive, because if a person truly loves or cares for you, such behaviors should never surface. Fiscal irresponsibility, emotional and relational dishonesty, gross selfness, a consistent lack of accountability and responsibility, violence, and disregard for a person's need are examples of conduct that does not characterize a genuine loving relationship. Countless men that I have talked to, think being mistreated is normal in relationships. It's not only women who are abused, trust me when I say this. It takes time to develop a reputation for reliability, when my words can start to be depended on. I will develop the influence I need to exercise my authority. As my words and actions become more consistent. Those who depend on me will develop greater respect. I have to mean what I say, and the seriousness of what I say will be confirmed by what I do. Here are a few stories to help Explain my actions. My downfall was when I went out at night. I had one reason in mind. My objective would be to get a glimpse of a familiar pair of legs, or to see a female who I could only call my friend. A scoreless night fostered hostility, and a scoreless weekend breed animosity. Through red eyes, all the world was seen. Angry at friends and family for reasons they can't perceive, only I knew why I was so angry. There were the friends that played the 'Just friends' card, Who I had known for so long. Who respected me enough, that I couldn't do what I wanted. So they would no longer bother to put on their false

personalities, or flirt because they thought I liked them for 'who' she was. When what I truly liked was her flirtatiousness . There were the coy girls who smiled, and looked like she wanted to meet me, but for some reason I couldn't work up the nerve to talk to her. So instead she just became a night time fantasy. Many nights my own hand became my best lover, my fertilizer was being wasted in a Kleenex flushed down a toilet. I wondered when I was going to stop. I would lay there thinking about what could have happened that night when I almost got somewhere. I stared to neglect work and meaningful activates. I stared to neglect the ones who really loved me. For a shot at a new target, I would lay and think "does everyone get lucky with women but me, or do females just not want it as bad as I do." Even a wise man dwells in the fool's paradise. I had to learn one of the most important things to do with an attractive woman was to demonstrate value. In other words, what made me different from the last 20 guys who approached her. So I read books on hand writing, read rune readings, and some tarot cards. My new addiction was Girls, and what they had to offer. After all, I learned everyone's favorite subject is 'themselves.' Women are sick of generic guys asking them the same questions, and not all women appreciated my efforts either. I found it took females roughly 7 hours to comfortably be lead from meet to sex. That's when my addiction turned on and I was hooked. Not intentionally. I then started reading everything I could get, to get inside not only a girls pants, but I wanted to get inside their brain. The most important thing I found out. 'TO GET A WOMAN, I HAD TO BE WILLING TO RISK LOSING HER." In life I was seeing people content to wait for good things to happen to them. By waiting, they would miss out. Typically what you wish for doesn't just fall into your lap. It does fall somewhere nearby. A person has to recognize it, stand up and put in the time and work it takes to get it. This isn't because the universe is cruel. It is actually because the universe is smart. The universe has its own cat string theory, and knows we don't appreciate things that fall into our lap. One thing I had going for me was. I was fearless around women. My methods were simple. I would always think she wanted me, it didn't matter who she was, when I believed that, she would start to believe it also. I was a slave to my love of women. The weakness in a woman, is body language and words. Fortunately, that was my strong point. If a woman tried to repel my advances. I would act like they were a door mat and what they were saying didn't make any sense. I would never try to defend myself or apologize for being a womanizer, because reputation is attractive to a woman. I was the other man, guys worried about when they married a girl. I never slept with married woman. But I sure did make them feel like they were special. I eventually became an expert in how to feel good. I learned how women could have an orgasm from single vocal command, or to soul gaze, and we learned to breath together, once we would do this. We could bond and become friends of the soul. I learned hundred of openers, routines, cocky funny comments, and a way to demonstrate value. I learned what to do, and that was to do what everyone else wasn't doing. I had to suppress every evolutionary instinct inside me and pay no attention to women what so ever. My favorite line was. I'd tell a woman I lived in Los Angeles. it's

where the most beautiful women in the country lived and they come there to try to make it. Then look around the club and tell her no one compared. Over there made this VIP bar look like a dive bar. I would tell her verbatim. "You know what I've learned. Beauty is common, it's something you are born with, or pay for. What counts is what you make of yourself and a great personality." Then I would make a negative remark towards her. I would tell her under her looks is probably a good person. I learned a girls rule is, slutty girls love for a guy to by them drinks. A good woman though don't respect guys who buy them drinks. I was building up my status where I never had to pay for meals, drinks and I never bought a gift for a woman, if I wasn't sleeping with her. Dating was really for tools. I learned quickly as my skills got better, when you can get any girl you want, every guy even if he's rich or famous will look at you differently. This was because I had something he didn't. A woman After a while I'd bring girls home, and I didn't want to have sex with them anymore. I just wanted to talk. So we'd talk all night and bond on a very deep levels. I idealized a lifestyle and behavior that was corrupt. I abhorred kindness, mercy, human dignity, and intimacy. Instead I used, degraded, and exploited women. I thought only about my pleasure. I despised the good instincts within me and attempted to corrupt anyone I met. After my last EX. I realized, if I wanted to improve my odds of meeting a good woman. I was going to have to make some changes to myself, and it just so happens that all the qualities woman look for in a guy are good things. I became more confident. I started working out and eating healthier. I became more fun and tried to be a positive person. Through my trial and error period. I didn't just become successful with women, I planned on being more successful in every human interaction. One thing about women, I don't understand them. I mean I know exactly what to do to attract them but I still don't understand them. I've come to understand without commitment, you cannot have depth in anything, whether it's a relationship, a business or a hobby. In many ways, I was jealous. I hadn't met any woman yet I could say that about. Most people have a good social environment, and that created a good working environment. The best thing about all these women. Everywhere I went involved alcohol and drugs. I had the POWER. There are certain bad habits I've groomed my whole life. From personality flaws to fashion. It was the role of my parents and friends, outside of some minor tweaking, to reinforce the belief that I'm okay just the way I used to be. I learned it's not enough to just be yourself. I had to be my BEST self, and that has a tall order when I hadn't found myself yet. In life people are a bundle of good genes and bad genes, this mixes with good habits and bad habits. Since there's not a gene for coolness or confidence, then being un cool and unconfident are just bad habits, which can be changed with enough guidance and will power. I have always lived for the experience. Traveling, learning new skills, meeting new people. I then had my son and that had been the ultimate experience. It's what I was put on this earth for. Yet at the same time, living this experience also meant

wanting the novelty and adventure of dating different women also. At that point I couldn't imagine ever choosing one person for life. It's not that I was scared of commitment. It's that I was scared of arguing with someone I loved over whose turn it was to the dishes, and after all the women I had been with, I was scared of losing the desire to have sex with the woman lying next to me every night. While taking a back seat in my ex's heart, to be in my child's life I resented her for limiting my freedom to be selfish. Picking up women had never been about sowing in my wild oats. My oats are always going to be wild. That is not necessarily something I relish. The whole time I was just screwing up my chances of being a cool dad. After being hurt so bad by the women I loved. I turned myself into a pickup artist. After I experienced true love. I didn't want that life anymore. I wanted to be a loved and a Father. Don't get me wrong, I do love woman, but I will be so happy,to finally settle down. With such an addictive personality like mine. My weekends or weeknights weren't made for sitting around watching videos or blockbusters. It was to go out and drink booze and get laid. This isn't just a lifestyle. I found out it was my disease. The more time I devoted to it, the better I got, and the more addicted I became to it. I was missing 1 key piece of knowledge. One of the things that attracts a woman is a good lifestyle and success. I learned everyone who gets to absorbed in the game gets depressed. At that time I wasn't good at anything but bullshitting people and lying, and that lead to getting laid. So at the time it was a WIN WIN. I never meant to be a bullshitter or a liar, so once I got to prison and learned there is more to life. I have decided to stop, and a good time is NOW. I was becoming too dependent on female attention, allowing it to be my sole reason for leaving the house besides food. In the process of dehumanizing the opposite sex, I had also been dehumanizing myself. Though I'd more than attained my goal at picking up women, along the way I had accidentally found the sense of camaraderie and belonging that had eluded me my whole life. When I started telling women my objectives it was weird. I told a woman I was out to just pick up women, she's still have sex with me, but she'd make me wait a week or two, Just to ensure that she was 'different' from all the other girls. If I told a girl after we had slept with each other I was out to just have sex with her. She was usually amused and intrigued by the whole idea, and convinced that I hadn't been running game on her. The problem with picking up girls is that there are concepts like sincerity, genuineness, trust, and connection that are important to woman. All the techniques that are effective in beginning a relationship, violate every principle necessary to maintain one. I couldn't understand it. I always told myself."What was wrong with learning how to meet women. That's what I'm here for right" Isn't this how species survive? All I wanted was an evolutionary edge. So why not work at it and learn to do it well, like I'd done with everything else in my life Not one of them every complained after we slept together, not one was being lied to about my intentions so no harm no foul right? They wanted to be seduced. Everyone wants to be seduced. It makes us feel wanted.

I'm the kind of person who will think about something, and if I knew it's right I'm not going to ask anybody for clarification. Up to this point in my life I have made every decision for myself. I continually tried to build a code of honor, and discuss it point by point. I really do want to set a good example, and fulfill my obligations, and never need praise, approval or sympathy. I will try to not compromise my own realist way. A lot of the stuff I talk about is trying to control or manipulate situations. I learned every woman was different in bed. Each had her own taste and quirks and fantasies. Someone surface appearances never accurately indicated the raging storm or dead calm that lies beneath. Reaching that moment of passionate truth of surrender, honesty, revelation was my favorite part of this game, I was now playing. I loved seeing what new person emerged in bed, and then talking with that new person after our mutual orgasm. I guess if you can't tell. I just really like being around females. To get a woman I had to capture her imaginations first and her heart next. I wasn't misogynist when I started all of this. I just got good real quick and I started sleeping with all these women. I have seen so much betrayal, lying and infidelity. I have learned if a woman has been married 3 years or more, you come to learn that she's usually easier to sleep with than a single woman. If a woman has a boyfriend, you learn that you have a better chance of fucking her the night you met her, than getting her to return your phone calls later. Women you eventually realize, are just as bad as men, if not worse, they are just better at hiding it. I believe in learning new things, doing the work required of me and competing with no one but myself. I am strong willed, centered and resolute. Men think about sex more than they will ever let women know, or even let each other know. With male sexuality, it seems on the surface it runs rampant is society. There are strip clubs, porn websites, maxim-style magazines and titillating advertisements everywhere. Teachers think about fucking their students, fathers thing about fucking their daughters' friend's, doctors think about fucking their patients, The great lie of modern dating is that in order to sleep with a woman, a man must pretend initially as if he doesn't want to. Most appealing to women is the male obsession with strippers, porn stars, and teenage girls, it is abhorrent because it threatens a woman's reality. If all men really desire women like that, then where does that leave her marriage and happily ever after fantasies. Sadly she's doomed to live them out with a man who really wants that Victoria's secret model or the neighbor, Loved is dashed on the rocks in the face of the possibility that a man doesn't want a person but a body. Fortunately, this is not the entire story. Men are visual thinkers: thus we're often deceived by our eyes. But the truth is that the fantasy is often better then the reality. This is the reason I now fear commitment, and sometimes, even rebel against it by endeavoring to bring out the worst in a woman. I am afraid to actually feel something for somebody else-to love, to be vulnerable, to give someone else control over my happiness, and well-being. The next woman I am going to be with. Sex will not just be entertainment. It will not be about validation and ego-gravitation, as with all those women before I'd been so proud of. It will be about

creating a vacuum where nothing else exist except the two of us and our passion. It will make the rest of existents seem like a distraction. I guess I can say I now have true life experience now. I have learned what a one night stand and a fuck buddy are. When you kind of get down to it, those things are a false intimacy. There unsatisfying. In a real relationship, sex means more. I just want to keep going with my new woman, and I want to hang out all the time and talk about life. (OUR LIFE) GOD SEND ME AN ANGEL. With all the effort I put into this lifestyle. If I took that effort and put it towards something constructive. Who knows what I can really accomplish. In life you must face harsh or hurtful consequences, but remember consequences are actually beneficial. They are designed to teach you not to repeat the same mistakes again. Remember consequences, negative or positive are always educational. As a human many times we are kind of slow to learn. One important way to learn not to repeat a mistake again, is to understand the benefits of a negative consequence.

As it was, my life was about to become a thousand times more difficult than anything I have talked about so far. I had been on the easy path to destruction. I ended up being convicted of menacing which I mentioned before. I got a deferred sentence. I spent 3 years free and I just explained all I did in those three years. 17 days away from completing my deferred sentence. I get a new charge of Tampering with a court Witness/Victim. Some say you should forget about your past and concentrate on your future. For those who are looking to make a change, that is as tantamount to sticking your head in the sand. As they say, those who forget about history are bound to repeat it. In order to move forward. I first had to recognize where I came from. That means confronting wrongs, and accepting responsibility. To become the man that I have become today. First I had to acknowledge and take responsibility for that memory and the numerous wrongs, and the few that I had perpetrated against, like girlfriends, family, friends, and perfect strangers alike. Even in a drug-induced haze. I knew that the process would be painful. That pain, more than anything else is what kept me from making the changes that I needed to make. It made me fool myself, point fingers, contrive excuses, and it had me locked inside a prison long before I was ever behind bars. I needed to acknowledge my past and accept the responsibly before I could ever move forward. I had to forgo the easy path, and truly face what I had become and the things I had done. Drug addicts are great con artist. It's an important part of the addiction because, in addition to fooling my friends and family, I had to fool myself. I told myself I was fine, I don't need help, it wasn't affecting my work, it's not affecting my family. I did it because the truth was to terrible. Drug addicts and alcoholics always have excuses. I had so many excuses because saying "I have to work" sounds rational and responsible, whereas the

alternative, the truth that was screaming through my head. It was to awful to say aloud. I choose drugs over you, everyone, and everything. I am willing to steal from you, jeopardize your safety and leave you without your son, husband, and father in exchange for my next hit. To quit. I had to admit I was addicted. To admit I was addicted would mean that I had to look at my actions as an addict. To look at my actions would have been too horrible for me to bear. To become the man I wanted to be. I had to let out my secret. I had to acknowledge the person I had been, and I had to claim the pain that I had caused everyone. I had one option. Confront my past and claim responsibility. If I throw my hands up and said that I was a drug addict and now a felon because I grew up a victim, and when I was a teenager I lost my support network. There will always be people there to pat me on the back and say "Poor Gregg' but it will never help me get better, because I can't improve myself by giving my power away. I have to own my decisions and think about my choices. If I claim them no matter how bad they are. I claim the power that I always will have control of my destiny, and to make the changes that I want to make in my life. My first and hardest step was putting down the excuses and taking absolute responsibility for who I have been up to this point, and what happens to me as I move forward. For every change, there is one pivotal point. A point where the status quo is abandoned and an entirely new direction is chosen. The laws of physics state that objects in motion, tend to stay in motions. To stop or redirect that object takes effort. This applies to life changes as well. Reversing a trend that I spent a lifetime building. Is going to take a great deal of will power to change. December 13th 2010, proved to be the hardest day I had ever faced. That was the day I stood before the judge and was told I would spend the next 6 years in the Department of Corrections. The next 72 months of my life was going to be spent as an incarcerated felon. To this day it has been my hardest, it will be nothing compared to my next hardest date. Explaining all this to my son Kamdyn.

GREGGORY DAVIS DOC #155243 DRDC, BENT COUNTY CORRECTIONAL CENTER(MEDIUM SECURTIY) TRINIDAD (MINIMUM RESTRICTED) DELTA CORRECTIONAL CENTER (MINIMUM) I have said in order to change. I had to come clean with my worst secrets, so let me share a few of those with you right now. The day my ex went into labor. I called my friends with the good news. That was their cue to gather up a bunch of booze and cocaine and assemble a little tailgating party in the hospital parking lot. For the next 8 hours. I ran non-stop between delivery room and the impromptu parking lot drug party. This was the only way I could tolerate my ex. I looked at the future. There I was the pillar of fatherhood, stoned out of my mind and supporting my habits by dealing drugs. My summers were filled with adventures like tubing down the Colorado River with my closest friends, while we drank ourselves silly, and then capped it off with a drunken race down the highway on our way home. The type of person I am. I would have taken my son shopping in true Disneyland fashion. He would have had the best stuff drug money could buy. At that time, I probably wouldn't have worried about him brushing his teeth, bathing, or following rules of any kind, or anything that I should have done as his Father. As Kamdyn grows, everyone that is in his life will know his Dad is a convict. Kids can be extremely cruel, and I know that what I have done will cause my son to be probably be teased, tormented, and ridiculed for many years to come. I have let him down throughout his life and coming to prison was just the icing on the cake. I dread the question that I know will always be hanging in his eyes. The 'WHY?' Hopefully I will be able to answer all of his questions with true sincere answers. The day in prison when my mother sent me a picture of my son. I came to a very important realization. Alcohol and drugs had become more important to me than the most important person in my life. Up to this point, I had never taken my son hunting, fishing, or camping. Not a chance. Where would I get drugs or alcohol in the woods. Did I ever show him how to sharpen a knife, stop game, spot birds, catch a fish? That's pure insanity. I couldn't even focus most of the time. Instead of being there for my son. I gave him an absent father, and the eternal question that will always be on the tip of his tongue. "Why did you leave me dad?" Incarceration, Detention, and Prison, they all mean the same thing. They are deprivation. My son has been deprived of his father for all 7 years of his life. I was doing a 6 year sentence, having never realized that my son had been born into a prison of his own, and his only crime was being born to a father who had made drugs, parting and women his priority.

I looked at his picture and decided right then and there, I was going to be a better man. Steel bars, Metal doors or not. I was going to be as close to the father that my son deserved. I see hope for my future, reflected in my son's image of me. I regained something that I had lost back in the earliest days of my drug use. The hope that there might actually be a way out of the existence I had created of myself. This is my chance to turn it ALL around. Once I caught a glimmer of hope. I began to see it when I looked at my reflection in the mirror. My son taught me that. He taught me to start believing that anything was truly possible again. He taught me to live my life with the hope of a child. Suddenly I saw a path ahead of me. I had a vision of the man that I could become, a man that would be worthy of his son's love. What's more, all of the excuses that I had been using to keep myself from changing for all those years, seemed trivial and stupid. I was really going to it this time. I resolved right then and there that I was going to clean up my act and get rid of the drug and alcohol for good. I am going to get the education that I passed up on , be the bed DAD I could be, even though for a while it might mean being the best 'PRISON DAD' possible. I am going to put myself in a positing that, when I am finally free to be with my son again. I will be a functioning member of society, that Kamdyn can be proud of. For the first time in my life I am truly focused on what is most important to me, and the hope that has been reawakened in ME. The day I stopped listening to that little voice, the one filled with all of the doubts, insecurities, and excuses I used as a crutch so I wouldn't have to make hard choices or the smart choices. That was the first day I stared to live as the new me. Hope is a powerful thing. It has near euphoric qualities. Hope alone cannot get me to my goals. That is what I found out during the next few days. The days that I knew I was going to prison but had no idea what to expect. With-in the walls of prison, drugs are more easily obtained than they are on the streets. Heroin overdose is a regular occurrence, bloodshed over drug deals gone bad takes place routinely, and stemming the drug flow into the instituting is a constant battle for the staff. I wasn't ready to face that availability on my own. My time at the detention facility gave me a chance to clear my head, to think rationally and to make a conscious decision to turn my life around. Without the persistent stream of drugs that the prison system would have to offer. Without the drugs. I gained clarity, with that clarity came some of the scariest moments of my life. I had no idea what to expect when I arrived at my permanent facility. Faced with a 6 year sentence. I'm sure you can imagine the apprehension and fear I felt. This was pure, unadulterated reality, no drug haze to stifle the fear. My brain cells were operating at full capacity, and for the first time in years I knew true fear. My son had given my life value again. In the short period of time, I went from drug addict, alcoholic, to a man with too much to lose. Now I had to face three legends of prison. Like everyone else, I have heard the stories and the terrors that take place inside prison walls. The beatings, the rapes, and the murders. The funny thing is, that wasn't anyone of them things that kept me awake at night. It was all of them and none of them at various combinations. What would it be like? Would it be as Hollywood portrayed it in

the movies? Would I be beaten, stabbed, forced into a gang? All I knew was that I wasn't looking forward to fresh-meat orientation, whatever that might have implied. I was lucky to never find that one out. That only happens when you put yourself in a bad situation or have a huge dept to pay. Then it dawned on me. My greatest fear was not simply that I would have to face all of these potential threats, but that if I were to carry through with my promise to my son, and to myself. I would have to do it all WITHOUT the drugs and alcohol. If there is one thing to fully trust me on. During that time, I thought about the drugs and alcohol a LOT. I craved the numbness. I wanted that familiar switch that I could flick to make all of my worries go away. For the majority of my life. I hadn't faced a single challenge. I had used drugs and alcohol to escape them all. I knew that this was a challenge I needed to face head on if I were going to come out of this the man I wanted to be. So on the day that I first entered Bent County Correctional Facility, that was the way that I approached it. Head up with a brave face. Was I scared? You can't even being to imagine. Since then I have learned that the only way to face change is to embrace it, welcome it, and learn to love it with my head up and wear a brave face. There is of course several dangers with-in the walls of prison, but one of the greatest perils to a person, should the society that inherits that person upon his release is what I call 'dead time.' It seemed to hang physically in the air as though it is something you can touch or feel around you. When I first arrived here, I would sit in the common area and watch guys play cards, play dominoes and watch TV. Some of them would spend their entire sentence doing the same thing, for up to 16 hours a day. Day after day, week after week, month after month and year after year. Watching them, I decided that this was not the way I was going to spend the next 6 years of my life. Playing card and watching talk shows were not going to keep me on the path I wanted, and they certainly weren't going to help pay the bills once I am released. That's when I realized again that being inside walls, behind this razor wire was not the prison, 'dead time' was. While inside. I can see the emptiness in the eyes of my fellow inmate, and I knew that dead time was NOT good for me. The irony is that I had been serving dead time long before I ever got to prison. I just never recognize it. One of my wishes for one moment, was to let every person experience what it's like to live the life of a drug addict living the life of a lie. It's the epitome of the definition of my dead time. I wasn't living my life. I didn't have a chance. Every thought, every resource, every second of my time was spent trying to feed a habit that could not be satisfied. Long-term security meant that I had enough drugs to last me for 3 days. I can look back on those days now with clarity and wonder how I ever even survived like that, how I could have chose that. From a sober stand point, knowing how bad it was. I can't believe that I chose that dead time, day-in- day out. Of course as bad as it got, the truth is the alternative seemed far worse. You have to remember that pulling myself out of the mess I have lived in for a good portion of my adolescence and my entire adulthood meant two things. 1. That I would have to face up to what I had done. 2. That I would have to do something I had never done before. Be a man and enter into my son's life.

Most convicts in prison serve the same kind of dead time. Ask them what they're going to do that day. 99.9%o of the time, it's the same thing that they did the day before, and it has nothing to do with self-improvement. So every day I have to ask myself' What will I do tomorrow that is different from today, and how can I better myself. The very worst thing that has EVER happened to me in my life, (coming to prison,) is at the same time the very BEST thing that has ever happened to me. There is no doubt in my mind, that If I had not been caught, convicted and incarcerated. I would have never entered into my son's life. There is also no doubt in my mind that if I had not been forced to confront great changes, and overwhelming fear that is associated with them. I could never have become the man I am today. I would never have been awakened from my dead time. Over the next several years I discovered in order to be great, I must be a man of submission. Mutual submission into my life, invited more relationships, then any one person should experience. there was love, respect, honor, and dignity. When I submit to those around me, I'm not diminished. I'm actually cultivated. Wisdom is extremely important. Wisdom is the ability to act appropriately. This will be my greatest challenge. I often thought of submission as a rule for only women. To gain the proper wisdom, I know it will require obedience, and this must be a key element in my life. In order for me to be respected. I must exhibit a consistent pattern of obedience that includes a respect for authority. When I can understand the importance of following rules. I will continue to develop the steadiness and commitment needed to produce security in the lives of those whom I care for. So I had to develop consistency in my work ethic, financial realm and relationships right. Adaptability is a critical component for consistency. I will be able to keep my commitments and meet my objective. Life is predictable only in its unpredictability. The major challenges to my adaptability will involve adjusting to new situations in family, financial challenges and my business ventures. So certainly, tradition has its place in my life. Now is my time to get my act together. One of my most difficult transitions was getting used to peoples concern for my future, rather than my past. As the focus of my life. A life leading to unselfish love and the creation of a productive relationship is going to be my legacy. I was created to prosper within 3 laws, Environment, Relationships, and the Law. I chose to compromise my freedom and future relationships, for women, I thought I once loved. I can establish a new legacy when I exhibit a history that is confirmed and validated by my words and ultimately my actions, predictable, consistent, obedient behaviors, that lays the foundations for long-lasting positive memories. When I lay this type of foundation, those I love will have confidence in me as a person. Now that I am open to new ideas, the possibility for new success is possible. Positive consistency, which builds a solid foundation in my mind will rarely be threatened by new ideas. I have to be open to different perspectives to mature and build a strong legacy. My renewed mind now operates from the context of a new destiny rather than a negative past. I have to realize the environment I currently reside in. I had to dare take

authority. I have equipped myself to bring any situation under control. I was given the strength and ability to protect those who have been assigned my responsibility. There have been times in my life when trying to do the right thing has caused people to develop feeling of resentment towards me. Trying to do the correct thing was not always appreciated either. My sense of self, began to develop when I decided on a life goal. A strong sense of myself didn't mean, I develop insensitivity to the opinions and perceptions of other. My idea is to mold myself into an image of the ones that care for me. I will then please the balanced, rational people I interact with. I had to discover my God-given purpose while I'm here in prison. This has become my goal for self development. When I get out I have to surround myself with people whom give an influential voice, and people who have the same goals as me. To stay on the right path I have to remember, the expectations of people cannot become the foundations for my sense of self. I will never become a consistent individual with a strong sense of self, if my sole desire is to mold myself in the image of a person whose priorities, likes, and dislikes change every 30 days. I have to first be honest with myself and about myself. Lying to myself about my accomplishments and failures will damage my ability to build a strong, responsible consistent ME. The fear of the unknown keeps us from reaching out from taking chances, from exploring new possibilities, from pushing ourselves to realize our full potential. After all, we might not succeed, we might lose our comfort zones. We just might CHANGE! Or, we might succeed, we may just benefit. I am now one step closer to reaching some of my life's goals. Being forced into this harsh environment of prison. I have finally made some changes and I'm ready to face my past. Now that I have done that, I have learned that facing change head on and learning to love it, has made it possible for me to do anything I set my mind to. It's not enough to have hope. That is just the first step. It's courage to face and embrace change that helps you take the second step. Now I have something VERY powerful behind me. MOMENTUM. My son has helped me take the first step, and I have found new courage to face my fears and build momentum. Despite all of my problems, my parents have always been supportive of me in the ways they could. They continued to loved me, even as I wore away at any faith they could have had left, that I would ever do right. Most importantly, they have made the drive and continue to support me while I'm going through the roughest years of my life. My family proximity was a blessing to me, but it almost turned into a curse. Within the prison system, gangs run the institutions. As the gangs go, so goes the prison. The Aryan Brotherhood, The Mexican Mafia, 211, Blood and Crips. THEY dictate what happens behind these walls. When some of these gang members discovered how close my family was, I was approached by 3 gang members and they told me I was going to smuggle drugs into the facility, thru the visiting room, using my family as mules, or they were going to kill me. Each was carrying a shank. Which is basically a weapon made out of everyday object found in a prison, or as I like to refer to them, the best and brightest products of

prison ingenuity. The first guy was carrying a toothbrush. The difference between this toothbrush and the everyday toothbrush, was that the end of his toothbrush had been filed to a very sharp point and the other end had been wrapped in duct tape, to create a handle. The second had a pork chop bone. The end had been ground down on the concrete to a very fine point. This tool is most effective from behind when stuck in the artery of the next. The third guy was carrying a sixteen-penny nail driven though a six inch piece of broom handle. They were very serious. They didn't care that this could mean more time for me, or incarceration for my family if we were caught. I was given a choice....(if you could call it that.) As they entered my cell and made their demands. I was terrified. My first reactions was that I would do anything they said. I wanted to live. I started to go over my family members in my head to estimate if I had any collateral left with any of them. As the men gave their ultimatum, I began picturing the faces of my loved one, something much stronger than fear came over me. I saw the love that was always there in my parents eyes, no matter how much I had wronged them. I saw my Sisters and Brothers always ready to stand by their Brothers side. I saw the face of my Son and I remember the commitment I made to myself about him. I thought about the commitment I had made to them to turn my life around, and how it had always been my family that I had sacrificed in the past. I thought about how I wanted to be the person who my son and my family saw as the person they'd hope I could be. I remembered something my DAD always used to say. A saying I lost track of during my teens and twenties, but which came back to me in that moment. "Anything in life really worthwhile, which is REALLY worthwhile, is never EASY." Then it struck me. I had been willing to forfeit my life on countless occasions in order to do nothing more than maintain a high. I had been willing to do it every time. I went to buy drugs, or partied to the point where I literally blacked out entire days of my life. That was the easy path. After all, my life had no meaning or worth to me then. Whether it ended by drugs or a bullet didn't really matter to me. If I had been willing to die all those times for nothing, wasn't it time that I put my life on the line when it actually meant EVERYTHING? Truth be told, was there ever going to be a more appropriate time to make a stand to save my family, to save my future, to save myself? All my life I had taken the easy road. The easy road is the road of drug and alcohol use, the easy road is, the road of lying cheating and doing anything possible to survive. Anybody can do these things! It doesn't take a special person. The more difficult road is a road of self-respect, a road of believing in yourself. It means often standing to one side and feeling alone, because it seems that everyone else is heading in a different direction or passing by you, but knowing in your head and in your heart that what you are doing is the right thing. Peer pressure was the number one drawing force in my becoming involved with drugs, alcohol and heading down the wrong path as a teenager. Everyone wants to be liked, everyone wants to be accepted. It was easier to go along with the pressure, than stand against it. In prison that pressure is magnified one hundred fold. In prison not fitting in can cost you your life.

For 13 long years, I had taken the easy road. This was my time to make a stand. I would choose my family over myself. I would choose my integrity over asking my family to bail me out again. I would choose death before I would ever utter the request to my family, that those men demanded. What happened next? I was saved. The jingle of keys came to us from down the corridor, a guard was on his way. When the gang members heard that jingle, that sweet, wonderful jingle, they took their shanks and tossed them under my mattress. You're only allowed to have two inmates in your cell at any time. So the guard stuck his head in and said "Davis, what are these guys doing in your cell?" I told the guard " There're not doing anything, we're just kickin' it, they were just about to leave." He ordered them out of the cell. 5 minutes later I gathered up their shanks and one at a time. I took them back to their owners, explaining that they had forgotten something. Thank god they never bothered me again. In prison we have a code to follow. Whether it was inmate code, whether it was because they could see in my eyes no matter what they threatened, I was no longer going to take the easy path. They never bothered me again. In fact one ended up truly trying to help me out. As I have stated so far, I am no angel. As a kid I grew up pretty much Fatherless. I am for sure not nearly as bad as the men I'm surrounded by. Events conspire to help you believe this. You don't have to be evil to commit a crime either. You just have to be able to lie to yourself. I could have walked away at any given point. The going isn't easy. 6 Years of incarceration leaves its mark on a man. It's sudden harshness that disrupts natural expression, a wall that drops down. In prison you need this will to survive. After prison though I can only see this wall as a liability. Anything can trigger it. Especially talk of the past. Now my wall drops. Prison is like hells' backyard. I have survived because I set myself apart. In a crazy way my past life has helped me get to this point, the abjectness of it served as a kind of propellant, pushing me away from the man I was. One gift the past can offer, is a chance to reject it. In prison I began by devising a set of rules. First was to not walk in fear, and no matter what my circumstance is to not carry a shank like those three guys. Then what do you know just my luck. One of them three gave me a shank. I put it in my pocket and it put a hole in my pocket. The shank was 12 inches long. This guy figured I would need it to perorate a guy known as MacTown. Who taunts drifted up from the lower tier. I gave the shank back after the 8 O'clock count. I returned to my cell and lay listening to the calls for my blood. The rest of the cell block was waiting silent, with patience unique to inmates. For these men, waiting is life's main occupation. I easily could have arranged for protection. Remember I have rules in here to follow. I also had set another rule: to meet people as I am. Not as some fools side kick or a member of a dumb ass gang. My rules make life more difficult and I embraced this. By the exertion, moral or physical, we come to know ourselves. Without the knowledge, I never could have faced this man who was waiting for me. Mactown was 6'6 and as my cousin always told me "Gregg you seem to find the biggest and most dangerous guys to mess with" so here I am once again, standing in front of this man who has been locked up 26,27 something years. I know he is strait up institutionalized. Yeah this is the guy I had the bad luck to bump into, less than two

week arriving in prison. The other inmates warned me, "Whatever you do Davis, don't go into the cell with him." I had to get my reputation early and I had my rules to follow. So down stairs the man was waiting, shirtless, all muscles with knuckles poising. I swung twice, missed once, swung again and landed right in his jaw. That just seemed to piss him off more. BAM BAM BAM, my head hits the floor. I was gasping starring at this man's boots, tied so tight they were buckled over, looked like he was wearing clown shoes. This dude was bad, I had to give him credit. One good thing is I earned my respect. I wasn't messed with again. The greatest thing about rules. Even when the old ones fail, you can always make new ones. Slam them into place like a rodeo gate, walling off the old guy from the new. The procrastinator from the from the go-getter, the chump form the maverick. Put the weak guy behind you, move forward and evolve. It has worked. It has kept me out of gang activity. It earned me a beating, it could have kept me from eventually being killed also, and possibly killing someone. Even in hells own backyard, the rules allowed me to preserve some sense of myself. That might have been enough had it not been for the one thing, the place they call the hole. Tin roof, hundred degree heat. A single 4 inch square vent sucks no air because the doors are sealed. Inmates flood the toilets, washing shit under the doors. A mess to clean up. A rat scurries in the gloom. It knows when food trays arrive. It sits in the corner and waits. "Throw a boot at it, stun it, grab it, flush it" the crazy thing is no matter what you do to the damn thing, it will always come back. Over head, torn magazine pages smeared with tooth paste filter the florescent lights coagulated toilet paper forms a gray scab over the window, blocking the sun. Man let me tell you it gets hot in here. So I sacrifice a t-shirt to wipe the floor. Then dip my sheet in the toilet and spread it out on the concrete and lay here in my boxers. I would lie here till the sun went down. At night the beast stirs, rapping, screaming, banging. Someone wants you to know he's ready to kill himself, someone else beats on your wall all night, you never learn why. The very walls themselves are inscribed with a thousand voices, frayed bits of failing code from men long unraveled. bible scriptures, raciest credos, gang boast, witless epitaphs, This is the hole. I laid there at the bottom of the world. Here is the other problem with the hole. It wasn't the rats, the heat or the miserable food. It's that your own personal rules don't mean squat. In the hole, the only rules that matter are the rules on the hole it's self. 21 of them to be exact, all neatly listed in the 45 page inmate handbook. NO BEATING ON THE DOOR, NO LYING ON THE BED BETWEEN 6AM AND 4PM, ONE PHONE CALL PER MONTH, FIVE DOLLARS FOR SICK CALL, SUBMIT OLD TOILET PARER ROLL TO RECEIVE A NEW ONE. The best thing about this handbook, is it allowed me to write most of this story you are reading today. I used every piece of handbook paper I could get my hands one. The handbooks were free. I can imagine what a murderer feels like sitting here. I can also imagine how you get old quickly, and how tormenting it is to sit in this cell and think about the things I had done. I want to remind you how sanity depends on being able to shake off the darkness. Free men undervalue this liberty, no matter how bad things seem. A freeman can always step outside. The only way out is through books and writing stories in here. I had

to bribe a fellow inmate to smuggle books into me in the hole. In prison I have read everything I can get my hands on. I at first had to force myself to come back to reality. There is no way of exerting your will in this world, no way of telling it who you are. The danger is that you'll forget. Then the hole wins, and you become nothing, you join the hole. You become the hole. Now you hear the demonic clamor of your fellow inmates differently. It's not the sound of madness, it's the sound of men trying to keep the madness at bay. It's going to take time. Probably years like a man with a spoon and a vision. I will find my freedom. I found my freedom inside. I started achieving small goals, like finishing a book, then doing 1000 pushups in 2 hours. I started to believe anything was possible. I was starting to believe I can make in on the streets if I was able to achieve goals in prison. Let me fill you in on a few of my thoughts while in prison. I thought about my future, past and present. Most of this came while in the hole. The role I am expected to fill is varied and lifelong with little, if any room for a break from expectations. When I'm in recreational mode. I face expectations from my peers. I am always expected to be a man. I must be one kind of person around my friends, another around my co-workers, and someone else with my loved ones. The absence of authentic role models left me feeling pressured to perform, even though I was not exactly sure what I needed to be doing. It is extremely difficult to figure out WHO I should be, when I am not sure WHAT I should be. Even after I do figure out who I should be. The right idea in my life, I will continue to struggle with what I should represent myself as in-various different situations. My inner voice reflects who I am. It also demands to be obeyed. Once I can recognize the voice God has given me. I will have a true voice of my own. My voice can be influential and persuasive. The fruit of my life is directly related to my decisions. My decisions dictates my character, and both of them impact my future. When I have a problem with my sense of self. It can be a compounding problem. I discover a deeper sense of inner confusing with each new challenge I face. I have difficulty comprehending what is expected of me, and in turn I usually speak in a manner that seems in appropriate or irrational. The decision that I made that day in the cell was a momentous victory, but it was a private victory. It was not something I could share with my family. For one thing, I did not want to scare them by recounting it, but more importantly, to tell them that I had made such a significant change in my paradigm, would have been lost in the static of a million promises made throughout my years. If there was one thing I knew, it was that I will never win back their faith through my words. My words no longer meant a thing to my family or friends. I will have to build a pile of actions twice as high as the mountain of heartbreak. I have already delivered, so that my family and friends will be able to draw their own conclusions. So that's what I am beginning to do. I will never again settle for less than absolute integrity from this moment on. By the time you read this hopefully my mountain of actions are starting to pile up. My conversion to my new self has taken on a whole new momentum. I have promised to be a model prisoner, and make the most of my time. I will go the remainder of my time without being written up.

I have seen so far, every time I chose the harder but right path, the path of integrity. I have been rewarded for it. The other prisoners have left me alone, the guards have given me a bit more slack. I am venturing into the unknown, denounced the easy path, and soon I will be rewarded for all my hard work. When my addiction, was to drugs, women and lying. I was willing to exchange my life at any moment for the prospect of the easy release of the high it offered. While that may seem extreme, many of us forfeit a small part of who we are everyday because we are unwilling to look ourselves in the face with the clarity that we deserve. We can imagine the life that we would like to have and make endless promises to try to pursue it, but in the end, we trudge through yet another day without moving towards our goals, choosing sweet relief of our excuses rather than the more difficult road to true positive actions. People hang onto the lies that we tell ourselves and others with a ferocious grip because the alternative means doing something that is new, hard and unknown. If this sounds familiar to you. Then believe this or not, you are locked within your own prison, serving the same dead time, just as I am myself. I have learned, when I don't back all my words and promises up with actions and seal them with absolute determination, they mean NOTHING to nobody. My son has drove the first phase of my "awakening" When I discovered that I have the power to influence Kamdyn in a positive direction, it has given me a renewed sense of hope and purpose. A belief that my next several years will be something other than just wasted time, and the feeling that something good can come out of me being imprisoned. So I have learned the readiness to calm the future in whatever way I can. My conviction even though I'm at the bottom of the world. There is always a way forward. Once I'm free lord I ask that you give me my sign. I know I cannot change the past, the future is not yet here, but I CAN influence the here and now. I do feel without god and Family life has not purpose, and without purpose life has no meaning, without meaning life has no significance or hope. It is human nature to get distracted by minor issues. Without that clear purpose I kept changing jobs, relationships and other externals, hoping each change would settle the confusion or fill the emptiness in my life. I gave my personality too much free play in the past. I was lost in selfishness, self-gratification, indulgence, and impulsiveness. At times life's meaning had become lost to me. My story is typical in some respects. typical in the fact that, I fucked up. Let's be clear. I am not a hero. My character lacks in faults, my past is unblemished by bad behavior. Even today my fate hangs in the balance. So far reading this you are not here to absolve me for what I did. You are here to see how my so called crime destroyed me, and how I have recast myself from all this trouble. Because as common as my fall may have been, my later rise won't require explanations. I ask myself "how does a man so burdened by the combined weight of societies censure and my own desolation manage to ascend again?" How can I rise to become a paragon of mental and physical fitness, and an entrepreneur again. For anyone who has ever done something unforgivably stupid and for those of you who haven't! The answers to these question may yield clues to an even deeper

riddle: Can we ever escape the past? Or are we all bound to walk forever in the shadow of yesterday's mistakes? Making it this far hasn't been an easy road. As you have read. Whatever your feelings are about crime and punishment in America. Here are a few statistics. 2.2 million people are behind bars, and 4.8 million are on either parole or probation. One point is hard to dispute, A convicts troubles do NOT end when he leaves prison Can it really be true that the only people who can hope for success are the ones who have never knows failure? The world we live in nearly 60 percent of ex-cons with a background as mine is rearrested within 3 years. I dream I really can escape the past. Past mistakes and misfortunes may maybe a chapter in my life. I know for sure it was never intended to become the whole book. If you look at your own home, take away the paintings, the furniture, pictures on the walls, and what are you left with? Basically a prison cell! So really we are no different. A few stories that I have read say, recidivism or re-arrest rates of individuals who come out of prison with just two years of college is 10%. This compares to a rate of over 60 percent for those who walk out of the gates with no education. It cost $35000 to incarcerate an individual a year. It would cost a small fraction of that to educate that same individual, and in the long run would prove to be, both a saving monetarily and potentially an enormous benefit to society. I could make an argument that we are not doing society a favor by locking up criminals without offering any rehabilitation, education, or means to rebuild and an opportunity to better ourselves. But I can tell you as a fact, There is no way I am going to become the man I want to be. If the only post-incarceration job skills available to me were the ones I could learn from the convicts I am doing time with. I will never be entirely free from my past. The past exerts an inhibiting effect on my ambitions. The man I was can loom larger than the man I do hope to become. At its worst, the past consigns us to a castle system in which everyone docilely participates. the overweight guy remains overweight, the underpaid guy remains underpaid and the felon remain a felon. To better myself I had to give up who I was, and become somebody else much greater. It has not been an easy road. I had to sit in classes for over 600 hours of therapy. Searching the deepest darkest parts of my soul to find the character I want to be. Prison is not a place where men change for the better. It's a place where failures are shell-shocked, where imperfect men become bad men, and bad men become worse. I know that when I'm released, as an ex-con and ex-alcoholic. I am going to need all the help I can get to function in society again. I had to educate myself to gain better knowledge of the world. So over the past 42 months. I have done everything absolutely possible to help myself re-integrate back into society and become a positive parent and role model for my son. I completed Customer Service Academy and got NCCER certified. I earned 17 college credits for these classes and held a 3.75 GPA. I have completed 2 substance abuse classes, Domestic Violence, Extensive, Intensive, and Weekly outpatient

treatment, 2 parenting classes, Anger Management, and 150 hours of Strategies for Self Improvement and Change. I had to challenge myself to change. People make changes when we are challenged. I had to change my thinking and behavior that led to my bad outcomes, such as losing important relationships and ultimately losing my freedom. I have built knowledge and skills in several important areas, and learned how thoughts, feelings and actions are related. I have learned about alcohol and drug abuse and how it lead to my criminal behavior. I am now more aware of myself and how to make a commitment to long-term change in all these areas. I had to develop a plan for building my strengths and change specific areas of my life, and to understand the pathways to relapse and recidivism and the prevention of the two. Once I got all this figured out. I had to commit to CHANGE. I have begun to take ownership for the change in my life. I am going to learn about new lifestyles, and activities to help maintain my change. Most important I have learned how to be a good father and mentor to my son Kamdyn. Family and loved ones, there is absolutely nothing more important. They are the people we love and those who love us. We assume they will always be there, the ones who we know will be a part of our lives no matter what. I'm here to tell you, they are not always going to be a part of our lives, and they are not always going to be there. I didn't realize how important these people were until I burned every bridge and they were taken from me.

Since my first day into the world of alcohol, and women. I had let many of my loved ones escape from my life. Some of them I pushed away through anger, and some left because I was breaking their hearts. For everyone of these special people. I had an excuse for why I didn't need them. My Father was always riding me. My Mom was being over controlling. My Sister and I always fought, My Ex was EVIL. When I sobered up and realized I had built up a wall between me and my loved ones, that's when I realized what I really had done. Suddenly I was facing 6 years, and I didn't know if there was a single person on the outside who wasn't happier to have me locked away. In prison I am surrounded by inmates and guards at all times. I am utterly alone, but then again I'm not. In a situation this volatile. The fewer signs of weakness I show, the better off I am. I know not to show my thoughts in here, or my feelings. I had no one to comfort me. I have now truly lost my soft place to fall. The only connection to that part of my life is at mail call, or the infrequent visits that I receive. Mail call is a sight to see here in prison. You can always tell it's getting close by the movement in here. It is almost like a tide being pulled by the moon. If you pay close attention, you can even catch the glimmer of an emotion coming from some of the inmates, it was even a since of hope. The truly sad thing is that, more often than not, the letters don't even contain good news. We are the forgotten family members. The lucky ones who have some family, willing to offer support and correspondence. Time passes in a different way on the outside than in here. If I wrote a letter to a friend or family member, receiving it was one of the many things that had happened to them on that particular day. Let's face it, written correspondence has gone by the waste side since our grandparents' days. One of my letters might sit on a kitchen table or desk for a week or more, until they had a chance to sit down and write back. That's how time works in the real world. That is not the case in prison. In prison we've got nothing but time, and letters are the inmates one link to the outside world. To me, and the other inmates, that week or two or three might as well have been years. A few lines of mundane news about someone's life, is like gold. It is a glimpse at the normal, the ability to share with someone, like real humans do. It was contact with someone who loves and cares for you. That is something I can never take for granted again. I am fortunate enough to be surrounded by a family of people who though trials and tribulations have been vigilant in their love. When I was on drinking and drugging binges, they tried to intervene. When I

lost touch, they didn't lose hope. When I was branded society's outcast, they hugged me tightest. When they were taken away from me, I finally knew their worth. The Brightside, the one thing that prison does provide is an exercise yard, and I have a great deal of incentive to look as healthy and strong as I can be. Here there are big fish and little fish and I don't want to look like easy pickings. As I am getting healthier. I am starting to remember how it felt to have a healthy body. I found that not only am I moving better and felling stronger, but I have the energy to get myself through each day. Even the hard ones. I am assigning value to feeling healthy, and it makes me want to work even harder at staying this way. My sober soul was troubled by so many of the things I had done and the people I had harmed, and I have to find a way to make it whole again. I am now reaching out to those I have hurt. I have to allow them time to forgive me. I have created an idea of the man whom I want to become. Someone who I can not only live with, but be proud of. Most importantly, I have had to find a way to forgive myself so that I can continue to move forward In life, if you are not actively making positive choices, you have no one to blame but yourself. Everything I do, from the way I approach my job, to the way I operate in a relationship, to how I treat myself on a daily basis. How I react to the things that happen to me affects the results I get out of life. I have learned , if I don't like where my life is headed, try to change the little things first, and maybe the big things will follow. If something unfortunate happens, look for the lesson to be learned so that I can avoid having to learn it all over again. If I put good out to the universe, good works, good choices, good vibes, whatever I want to call it, it WILL be returned to me. I have faith, I will not get lost . My thoughts are magnetic, and thoughts have a frequency. As I think thoughts, they are sent out into the universe, and they magnetically attract all like things that are on the same frequency. Everything sent out will return to the source. (ME) I am learning my thoughts do become things. If I create my day in advance by thinking the way I want it to go. I will then create my life intentionally. If I use the laws of attraction to my advantage and make it a habitual way of being, not just a one-time event. Things will start to change. I feel everyday I'm an energy magnet, so electrically energize everything to me and electrically energize myself to everything I can. Now that I have let go of the difficulties of my past and my social beliefs. I am the only one who can create the life I deserve. I will never run out of good things because there's more than enough to go around for everyone. Life is meant to be abundant. I have the ability to tap into the unlimited supply through my thoughts and feelings, and bring it into my experiences. Praise and blessings into everything I do. I will dissolve negativity and discard and align myself with the highest frequency "LOVE" So here I am January 7th and my story continues. I have survived the hardest part. I got through my first night without a cigarette. Now let's hope I can get though day two. I have finally progressed from prison to the halfway house. I am now here in Colorado Springs and I'm in Community Alternatives of El Paso. I have done this once before and was regressed, because I wasn't mentally prepared for this part of my life.

As I have evaluated my situation I sit here now and have the hardest choices ahead of me. I have this path laid out in my head. The only thing I can do is pick a path and that is now going to be my destiny. I know I can't do this for my loved ones, or my friends. I need to do this for Greggory Alan Davis. So week one has passed and I have sat in here with my thoughts once again, and a pad of paper. I want money, freedom, and power. The question is how can I ever have these things again? Everywhere I look. I see a grim and depressing world. I could go to school and take it seriously, or I could turn to a life of crime that I was on, and make money fast. I know the guy that goes for option 2 either dies or ends up back in prison. I could escape it all by taking drugs again, or alcohol, and after 42 months, I really need the affection of a woman. I was the best at picking them up. So here is a challenge to see if I still have my skills. I know that once I start going down that path, there's no turning back. the only people who lead that life are the hustlers. They have cars, the clothes, the lifestyle and they seem to have all the POWER. I know in the drug business the customers are erratic and hard to figure out. The big-time dealers who ran the neighborhoods could be violent and heavy-handed. The police are everywhere, to many snitches out there to trust any-body. I had to quickly make a decision. I had to learn to see through all the bullshit people threw at me. I had to look at myself and see my own limitations and stupidity. The power I could have was sharpening my eye to a razor's edge, making me a keen observer of everything. The greatest danger I was facing wasn't the police or some nasty rival. My greatest danger is my mind going soft again. I am transforming my truth into a kind of honor I want to live the rest of my life by. When I went to prison this was a familiar way of life. Lies. and I have had a lot of time to reflect. The words of truth came back to me once I hit this point of my life. This wasn't the time to get depressed or to dream, but a time to fix my eye on the world I live in. This is my chance to get my shit strait. I have to see things as they really are, no matter how ugly it seems. I have to wake up and get out of here while I'm still young and my ambitions can still be realized. The people around me are generally mysterious. I am never quite sure about their intentions. They present an appearance that is often very deceptive. Their manipulative actions don't match their lofty words or promises. Seeing people as they are, instead of what I think they should be, means having a greater sense of their motives. It means being able to pierce the facade they present to the world and see their true character. I know my actions in life will be so much more effective with all the new knowledge I have gained. The capacity to see the reality behind the appearance is not a function of education or cleverness. It's a function of character and fearlessness. Being the realist I am, and not afraid to look at the harsh circumstances of life. Every circumstance, every individual is different and my task is to measure that difference, when I have to take the appropriate actions. Having clarity about where I'm headed, what people are up to, and what is happening in the world around me will translate into confidence and my own power.

When ever things go wrong in my life, I will be able to right myself faster than others. I will be able to do this because I will quickly see what is really going on and how I can exploit even the worst moment. Once I taste this, I will find more satisfaction form an intense absorption of reality than from indulging in any kind of fantasy. I cannot stop the tide of fantasy and escapism seeing our culture, but I can stand as an individual to this trend and created power and a world I can deal with for myself. I have to first re-discover curiosity. What I need to do in life is return to the mind possessed by a child, opening up to experience instead of closing it off. I need to let go of my pre-conceptions and even my most cherished beliefs. Then force myself to hold the opposite opinion or see the world through my enemy's eyes. Then I can listen to the people around me with more attentiveness. I can then see everything as a source for education. I know when I operate this way, I'll notice that something strange often happens. Opportunities will begin to fall into my lap because I'm suddenly more receptive to them. I will have to know the complete terrain around me. I will have to expand my access to different ideas, and force myself to go to events and places that are beyond my usual circle. I will have to vary my sources so that I can see things from several sides. Then get a feel for everything going on in my new environment. When I encounter a problem I can dig to my roots and bore deeper until I get at something besides the root. I will never be satisfied with what presents itself to my eyes. See what underlies it all, absorb it and then I need to dig deeper. Always questioning why this particular event has happened, what the motives of the various characters are, who really is in control and who benefits. These are the true reasons for my new dig into MY life. When I can see further ahead most people, out of fear they limit their view of the future to a narrow range. Tomorrow, a few weeks ahead, perhaps a value plan of the months to come. I am discovering it is pretty much a law of power, however the further and deeper I contemplate the future, the greater my capacity to shape it according to my desires. Once I set enough long term goals for myself, I can imagine in detail and I will be able to make a better choices in the present. If I look at people's deeds and not their words. I will know they are playing to win, and some people use moral justification to advance their side. All I need to look at are people's maneuvers. Their actions in the past will tell me what I expect fromm them in the future. Looking at people through the lens of emotion will cloud what I see and make me misunderstand the important things. I have to look at my fellow human beings with a sharp eye. One that is piercing, objective, and non judgmental. Then I have to reassess myself. My observation must occasionally be aimed at myself. Looking at my most recent actions as if they are maneuvers of another person. I will have to imagine how I can do it all better to avoid unnecessary battles, and confront people who stand in my way, instead of running away from them. My goal is to not beat myself up, but to have the capacity to adapt and change my behavior. Achieving a calm detached inner position to observe events that become something I can rely on in any crisis. As I said earlier. I think of myself as a realist. That word often comes with negative connotations. Realist, according to conventional wisdom, can be practical to a fault. We stand in contrast to dreamers, people of high imagination, who inspire people

to their ideals or divert people with their fantastical creations. The dreamers, those who misread the actual state of affairs and act on their emotions, are often the source of the greatest mistakes in history. My imaginations is in close contact with the environment and my reality at the time being. When I am able to reclaim the dead time I lost. Time will become a very critical factor in my life. My most precious resource. The problem with time is to work for others, this becomes dead time to me. When working for somebody else. I want this time to go by as quickly as possible. I have to absorb as much information to what's going on around me. This will help me endure work that does not seem so rewarding. Because of this, I have to own my time and all my ideas have to work in order. Once this happens I can own my own business again. One reality, I will have to create little empires while still working for somebody else. I am learning to carve out little areas that I can operate on my own. Cultivating my entrepreneurial skills. I will have to keep in mind that what I really value in life is ownership, and not the money. I have learned a lower paying position that offers more room to make decisions and carve out little empires. Is infinitely preferable to one that pays well but constricts my movements. My ultimate goal in life now is to move up on the food chain. When I'm alone, I will have to control the direction of my enterprise. I must strive to keep myself free from unnecessary entanglements. I must get into the habit of taking what I need for myself, instead of expecting others to give it to me. My future success HAS to be a reflection of my individuality. My whole life has been education up to this point, I have just never opened my mind to absorb any of it. I as most people do. I look at my material resources and wish I had MORE. When I can learn to work with what is there, I will find new ways to employ the material I have. I can then solve my problems, develops skills and use them again to build my confidence. If I turn all obstacles into openings I will see all hindrances as instruments. I can then control the mental flow in my life. I can discover something new, my mind should tend to start to want to study other things. My natural tendency to have things my way. It always seemed like the strong thing to do, but it actually stems from an infantile fear of the unpredictable. I will let go of the fearful need to make people do exactly as I desire. In the long run, my ability to gently drive people's energy in my direction and give me a dire range of control over the results. When I was young, I was more sensitive to the fluctuations in taste. I generally kept up with the present. As I got older the tendency is to become locked in a style that's dead. I have to find a way to periodically reinvent myself. I'm in no way trying to mimic the latest trends. I just don't want to become a social and cultural relic either. If you can't tell. I see myself as a visionary. I must have goals and long-term objectives to be able to function properly. Thinking ahead requires a particular thought process that comes with practice. I have to see something practical and achievable several years down the road, and map out how my goal can be achieved. I will have to come up with several paths to get there. I first have to master simple things. I often have a general feeling of insecurity, because I have never really mastered anything in my life. Unconsciously, I feel weak

and never quite up to a lot of task. The best way I have learned to overcome this is to attach the weak head-on, and build a pattern of confidence. I have to force myself past the obstacle of temptation. I must be persistent. I have to act like an animal and depend on instinct to survive. I depend on my conscious, rational thinking, which gives me a greater freedom of actions. Part of my own nature, naturally possesses the physical routing in my life, I was seeing the same people and doing the same things, and my mind tends to follow patterns. I have to force myself to take a different route this time, now that I'm out of prison. I'll have to visit strange places, encounter different people, wake up at odd hours, or read books that challenge my mind, instead of dull it. I know it's best to bet on myself right now. It has always been easy to rationalize my own doubts and conservative instincts, particularly when times get tough. I will convince myself that it is fully hardy to take any risk. That it is better to wait for more propitious circumstances. This is going to be a dangerous mentality. It will signify an overall lack of confidence in myself, that will carry over to better times. I must always be prepared to place a bet on myself, on my future, by heading in a direction that others will fear and situations that will help me prosper. I have to believe that if I fail, I have the inner resources to recover. This belief acts as a mental safety net. Making myself feel the necessity to be creative, and will cause my mind to rise to the occasion. Now being in a halfway house is a whole new environment. It give me drive that I didn't have before. I know now if I work and get paid a week's wage, that is a positive consequence. The pay check encourages me. The lesson I have learned is to repeat the same behavior, if the same result is to be desired. It is the same principle with a twist when it comes to negative consequences. If I do something that produces a negative result. Like not going to work and not getting any checks. I don't continue to work, the consequences are not just a loss of pay, but a loss of perception as a reliable individual. Then, when terminated from a job, I need a reference from that previous employer, I won't be able to get one. If I don't keep my focus now, the domino effect begins, and I will experience difficulty in meeting other obligations. I may want to blame these outcomes on a variety of factors, but the bottom line is that all this negative stuff stems from simply not putting in the effort. The bottom line or, my end result, must always be considered when I evaluate my actions and outcomes. The second and third worst thing I did in my life was lying and burning bridges. It's good to have people in my corner in a time of crisis. I am learning now, if I don't like the consequences of my outcomes. Only I can change how people treat me. I went through life blaming people and thoughr they were too harsh on me. In the end it molded me into a better man. I have discovered that's why 'tough love' was discovered. I know for sure, had I listened to the people around me 14 years ago. I would have never ended up on prison. Life works in 1 direction. It's not what you know, but who you know. Life is built on reputation. Reputation is what I have proceeded and how others project it. 1 lie led to 100 more, then trying to back track and remember the first story. Living like that for 27 years burnt me out.

In this environment it can get you killed, on the streets people just talk behind your back. Nobody could depend on me for anything. As you can imagine it was common for me to adopt an attitude right away when you questioned me. You may even have doubts concerning my personal change now. I started to believe one major thing. Gregg Davis has a problem if everyone around me all believes the same thing. That can't be a lie if that many people said the same thing about ME. I started to accept those negative statements as valid and true. It was possible that I had given those who love and care for me all the ammunition they needed to make their unflattering assessments. You all were correct in your opinion because of the things I have done. I was giving you reasonable people no alternative but to draw disparaging conclusions about me. I had given my word 1,000,000,000,000,000 plus times as a man, and broken it so many times that no one believed me anymore. So my loved ones and friends were justified in their negative opinions of my lack of concern for others. I acted inappropriately, yet I wanted the respect of a man who lived his life with integrity. I have learned I have a lot of time in my life to repair my broken bridges. ONE OF THE GREATEST DAYS OF MY LIFE, WAS THE DAY I STOPPED MAKING EXCUSES FOR MYSELF. I realized my explanation did not change the outcome. I began to be a lot more reliable as a man. Not showing up but expecting people to act as though I did because of my explanation will never , ever change the outcome. In the world of expectation, excuses will never alter the effects of the consequences. If I shot someone by accident, apologize all day, and promise to never do it again. I will probably be forgiven, but that person is still shot. I lived a lifestyle of irresponsibility and unaccountability. Yet today I have radically transformed into a productive, committed, serious man who is preparing myself for manhood and fatherhood. God has brought back balance in my life, he brought me to wholeness and gave me the ability to get back MY purposes. I had to be strong to stretch out my imperfections to him. I realized one of my biggest draw backs were my emotions. To willingly become susceptible to another human being, requires a high level of trust in a relationship. The for sure absolute truth was, I had become a master at wearing a mask and hiding my true identity. Many times those closest to me felt they knew me, but deep inside there's a part of me I was afraid to revel. I know I feared this weakness or characteristic would one day be unearthed, It would shapely contradict the perception I had created for myself all of my life. Scariest part. I had to unearth it to myself. Everyone else already saw it. Now that I look at the future, the discovery of my uniqueness has empowered me to achieve success by total utilization of my abilities. My environment has attracted the blessings and the resources to attract my true talents. With-in me lied a distinctiveness that equipped me to access the blessing of my family, workplace, and community. Now that I have started to face my weaknesses. I am starting to discover people do not reject me, but rather they use that confrontation to cause me to grow and mature. A huge challenge that is troublesome in my life, it has been the HARDEST thing to get over is a relative in my life. It was hard to separate myself rationally from him. His

poor decisions and choices, created the biggest crisis in my life. In turn this had a negative ripple effect on my life. I have dug as deep as I can, to realize. Parents are to be honored and respected. At the very least, this person raised me and I have to pay honor to him for that. This relative needed my prayers and wisdom. He will never listen to my advice, or let me help rescue him if ever need be. I cannot fix him or his problems. I have grown to accept that. I cannot take responsibility for anybody else's wrong choices, except for my Childs. I cannot cover or excuse their mistakes either. What I CAN do is speak the truth, while staying fixed on the plans for a bright future. Its human nature to cherish the familiar and love the very people who are most troublesome in our lives. To grow up and be a man, did not necessarily require that I abandon my current relationships or living situations. I had to move away from the power of their influence in my decision making process. When I was willing to do this, and face responsibility. I will be far more respected when I make the right choices. So as I start to wrap this up, I have realized, in order to change it DEMANDED change. In the future I will be able to speak good news rather than bad news. I hope you have created a level of patience with me. I will feel so much greater when I am able to speak the truth with you instead of constantly be moaning my negative circumstances. I have to be careful to talk much more about what's difficult, instead of what's promised. I cannot posses what I don't believe, so now I'll speak and act upon. Telling stories asserts good ideas, and kept me bush. It rarely moved me forward in life. Good ideas made a dent in things but failed to make an impact. Good ideas or bogus stories appeared successful, but could never take me from success to significance. Now TRUST ME. If I had not had certain challenges, the family, the afflictions, the setback and the disappointments along my journey. I would not have developed this character I am today, or this story. Possessions and security are the most difficult part of my process. I grew up hanging out with a crowd of people who all dressed, talked, and acted alike. Sad thing for me, I never outgrew the need to belong. I failed to achieve my own identity. I believed my associations validated my existences as well as my status in society. Now that I have experienced prison, and have been to the depths of my soul, This transformation has required a degree of separation from those with whom I previously derived acceptance and validation from. I have only ONE choice. I have to begin to take on a new identity, and abandon the old one. My old identity has been some of the most insecure places of my life. One of my MOST upsetting days, was when I realized the people I thought were comrades for life, were not longer a viable voice of influence. I saw some of them who've participated in a lot of major events in my life, may not be the friends I am going to take into my future. Part of my problem is the inordinate number of years I spent molding and fixing myself into a shape that I thought was acceptable of other human beings. When I look back, honestly. I have realized there were times when an internal voice tried to tell me there was something different about me. But my need to belong was so intense that I attempted to quite or distort the voice.

I tried to make my uniqueness fit within the acceptable mode of behavior determined by my circle of friends. I even believe my network of friends was the vessel that was going to carry me into my destiny. These feelings were circumvented when what I created to be, began to generate an irresistible force within. Encouraging me to let go of the old, and drawing me into test the waters of new beginnings. The more I emerge, the more I discover my unique abilities, the more I see myself walking along a different pathway of life. I have slowly began to realize the need to move from 'one of the boys' into maturity of manhood & fatherhood. The world has taught me to love stuff and use people if I had not developed an increasing sense of responsibility throughout this whole process. I could have found myself stuck with an image defined by the world, rather than establishing my true identity. May 5th starts the first true day to the rest of my life. I have been accepted to DeVry University, and I will come out of this with a Masters Degree in Hospitality Management. My dream is to own a hotel, and live my life with that special woman and have a kids to carry on my new name.