Loud and Clear: Clear up my previous blog, update

Clinton Lee Young Loud and Clear
Date : March 5th, 2015
Topic : Clear up my previous blog, update.

I got to thinking about my last blog that I wrote. As happens when I am frustrated about something. I do not explain in the best way.

I wrote something about relationships. The way I wrote it could seem kind of like I was being an arrogant asshole. Which was not my intention, plus did not properly explain my position. Which I wanted to better explain & why I was frustrated. Because of my looks & the fact that many woman follow my case. Some think it goes to my head. That I might think a person to have more of an interest in me, then they do. Which that kind of thinking. It could cause someone to read more into my words. As I often say. In life there is presentation & interpretation. There are stereotypes attached to guys in prison. Sites about prisoners often mention guys trying to find a « wife ».

I have had numerous woman write & in the first letter include the words : « I am not looking for an relationship ».

Even seeing that upsets me. As it means right out the gate we are on the wrong foot. As I do not find solid friendships/relationships beginning with a series of what a person will NOT do.

Plus when I see that line I want to write & ask: « what makes you think that you would qualify to be the better half of Clinton Young!? ». The fact something like that would be written, means they already assume it would be a focus of mine. I mean, sure I am a guy. Yes I do have an appreciation of the ladies. ☺ ha.

Though the reality is I could be dead within a year if all goes bad. Not saying I will be! Though it is the reality I face. My number one interest is fighting my case. Now it is true I have some wonderful woman in my life.

Also, I have found that I do tend to have people that become a part of my life, who never wold have written to someone in prison. My ex for example. She was actually searching for something she had read in a book. When she came across my website. A large sum of funds had been sent back then, to make the site have great search engine results for different terms.

This was in early 2010 I believe. She was shocked by my site. Wrote me a small letter, basically telling me she has seen the site & had seen people suffer at the wrong end of the system. She had friends that have been in & out of prison. Understood the lifestyle I once lived. That understanding helped us relate better & over the years we developed a stronger bond. Though we had our ups and downs. It became harder & harder for her to deal with. We would split. Patch things up. Repeat the process. Basically it had been off & on. Though when my appeal was denied.

I expressed that was it. Get on with life. One thing I always appreciated with her was how she was one to see a situation for what it was.

Once she visited me when my last state level appeal was denied. It was my 2nd round of state appeals due to winning a new appeal because of newly discovered evidence.

She seen me & had known my appeal was denied before I did.

When I went out to visit the officer told me I had an attorney phone call later that day. Then when I sat down for the visit. I could tell by the intense look on her face. Something was on her mind. She asked me if I was okay I said « I take it my appeal was denied? » She said « yeah ». When I heard that I gave a kind of laugh. Then said « on with the next fight ».

Now that just totally blew her mind. As she could not understand how I was able to just act like it was a simple matter. So her mind starts to hyper analyse everything. She went home & stayed in bed for two days. It just overwhelmed her. She misunderstood my laugh. She started to wonder if I ever thought I would actually win. That called into question if I am being honest about my situation. It just all became too painful. She couldn’t handle it.

While it hurted, I was not mad at her. This is some radical shit! Though the reason I laughed was because the state court denied me. No one here really ever expects much from the state courts, as they reject us so much, for sometimes the most simple of reasons. Every person that was on Texas Death Row, that is free now, was rejected by the state court on at least one of their appeals. Anthony Graves had been rejected by all the courts & was given an execution date! Now he is free & paid by the state for the years he spent in prison.

Us on death row, we see the nature of the beast. Anyways.

A woman putting her life on hold & that has fell in love with a man she did not know while free. More so one that under any other circumstances would not have ever thought of writing to a guy in prison she did not know personally That is a hard pill to swallow.

I can not speak for others. Everyone is different. As I have gotten older, I can not see putting a woman through the pain of this shit. It is hard enough on friends. That is why I say, I will not go to that level. As a result no one has to worry or even consider such. Now if my case turned around & it looked as if I was standing a chance & had victory in site. Yeah I could see a mutual interest developing in that way.

Though I got one foot in the grave right now. Maybe not one foot. Though I damn sure am on the edge of it. Yeah sure, I might joke around, flirt & all that. I am a guy! Though I am married to my case.

On a side note. Now what I meant by other woman in my life raising the bar. I have had the privilege of having that emotional & mental bond with some good women. One of which, well are not really very fond of each other anymore, however I can say that she never would have cheated on me. She would have been solid. I can say that about several. Plus take my ex for example she never tried to tell me what to do. I am against control with my whole being when it comes to a relationship.

Love, within itself, is control. It will dictate the proper course of action. More so when paired with a solid moral code. There are guys that boss their partner around. That shit is crazy to me. I would not respect a woman that allowed me to boss her around. A child is bossed around.

I am a grown man. No one is going to boss me around. A relationship should be bound by a mutual love & affection for each other. Both respecting the other & when that person is not sitting beside them, they act as if the other is. A dedication & solidarity.

I mention that to dove tail into another matter. It bothers me, that sometimes how I look is allowed to overshadow the injustice of my case.

Someone had recently made a comment about « having a soft spot for this handsome… ». Now to be clear. I am not trying to single out anyone. Nor do I misunderstood her words. I believe she takes my case very serious. I am not mad at the words. Though find it as offering a chance to have a good example.

I would prefer someone to post : « There is a soft spot in my heart for this innocent man ». I just worry that outsiders viewing in, could get the wrong idea. Maybe not take my campaign as serious.

I am not trying to be a cute corpse.

To better explain how little my looks factor into my concept of self when I was younger. When it came to my looks I felt it made me appear weak. Being that I had the adverse interactions with my step-father & real father.

I was stepping into the world from that foundation. Then I had experiments such as: When I was 11, I was at a placement for a couple of months. Supposed to be for a couple of months. There was a trade day near the placement. Various people had all kinds of booths set up. There was just me and at first 2 other boys at the placement. One staff member. They could take us places with them. The school had paid for me to go there as they knew there was something else going on, that was not getting told. My mother and I always acted like home life was all great. When I got to the placement they told me what MHMR meant, as I seen it on some paperwork. As soon as they told me the R stood for Retardation, I went smooth off. It took them a whole bunch of explaining, to get me to accept they did not have me there for being retarded. That the MHMR was a type of catch all.

Now the problem with this was, I took it to still mean they was attaching a label of my being some kind of crazy. Being too smart for my own good, I thought: « when in a crazy house, do crazy! ». ☺ I could always justify it. This one black lady was a staff member & was working. Now older black women from the south they have a personality type, for the most part that white women don’t. Like one day, I was bored. When in crazy, act crazy came to my mind. I just jumped up & took off running around the room, with my hands in the air, yelling: « raw, raw, ree, kick a them in the knee » & so on the song goes. If a white lady was working at the placement she would have said: « Now Clinton, you need to calm down & take a time out ». An older black lady is going to say: « Boy if you don’t stop acting crazy, I’m gonna beat you! » Ha ha ☺ That is basically what she told me. (She wouldn’t really beat me. Though my mom was the type that also was raised on old south / baptist principles. I got many a spankings!). Anyways, when I was asked: « boy, why you actin crazy!? » I responded with: « well, I am in a crazy place, so I must be crazy ». I said « crazy » all drawn out & was rolling my eyes around. Ms. Paddy, the older black lady, she told me: « Boy, you ain’t crazy! You just need to be beat. Go sit down. » ☺ I really liked her.

Anyways back to the point.

We went to a trade day. Even though I was 11. When I was just sitting around talking to the staff. They no longer looked at me as 11. Being that I did not have kids my age around. I often spent my time with adults and older kids. The head doctor there at the placement, describe me as « an angry 15 year old” even though I was 11. Anyways, when we went to the trade day & I promised I would not get in trouble. They let me just walk around by myself. This one dude had a table set up full of sports cards, electronics, etc. Basically all a child would like. I started to talk to him. We left. The next day, I went back with a different staff member. She was talking to the guy. He was giving her this spill about having a rich accountant, that was messed over. A guy ran off with all his money.

Now she was buying into this crap. I was 11 & was looking at the guy like he was full of shit! I always had an ability to read people.

I just knew he was lying. I had been around enough low end workers, construction types to be able to recognize one. My dad worked with iron, wielding & all that. My step father worked at a steel plant They knew other blue collar workers. My dad had friends that was just poor white trash, as the saying goes. I had friends who’s dads worked construction. Nothing wrong with it at all! It is a honest days living & deserves appreciation, as they help make the wheels of the economy turn.

Though I knew the look & that damn fool was not a wall street type. I didn’t care, as I wanted her to leave me alone, as if she did , I could be free for a while to wonder around. Sure enough, she wanted to go look at other stuff. I express wanting to stay & look at the cars & such. She says okay & walks off. Long story short. The guy lets me behind his counter. Has me sit down in a chair beside him while I am messing with a remote control car. Brave little me, just said okay. I sat down but he had his hand on the chair. When I sat down. I felt his hand do I jumped up. Now my mother had always told me to never allow a guy to touch me in specific areas If they did, to tell. If it was a boy my age, to hit him in his mouth. Momma didn’t have to tell me twice.

I told the guy to move his hand & I slapped his hand away from the chair. I thought he was just being goofy. I sat down. It happened again, so I grabbed the remote control car & raised it over my head. I told him: do it again and I will hit you with the car. He laughed & explained it away as just playing.

This time I sat down while looking. We talked about other things & he asked me to go into his trailer (RV) and get a box, he wanted to show me something. So I stepped in the door. I was inside his camper trailer & asked “which box?” he pointed at one which was clearly too high for me to easily get it. He then stepped in behind me, I looked up at the box. I thought, “if I try to get that box down, if it is heavy it will fall on me” I turned around & looked up at the guy. The look in his eyes & the way he said ‘go ahead, get it.’

The voice in my head told me, “I reach for that box, it will fall & he is going to use that as an excuse to hit me & knock me out. Then anything can happen.” I then felt a bit scared, as I thought, ‘if that happens I may never see my momma again.’ I pushed him & jumped out of the trailer. As he came out, I walked backwards & said: “stay away from me ». I then grabbed the remote control car. He let me, as then he could say for me to bring it back the next day. Which he had allowed me to take it back to the placement the previous day.

I did not say anything to the staff. Though he said something about bring the car back the next day & told me good bye. That night I ran the car until the battery died. I then got a screwdriver from the toolbox & slammed it right through the middle of the car. Next day we went back for the final day of the event. I walked up to the guy to give the car back. He reached for it & right before he grabbed it I let it go so it would drop at his feet & he would have to pick it up. He looked at me & seen the smirk & knew I did it on purpose. He told me: “You sure are a little asshole!” I responded with: “Yeah, & you are sure a big faggot!”

(A side note. Growing up in that region of Texas, well back then really the majority of the country. Being gay was not something a person would easily be open about. Not at all! Hell I didn’t even meet an interracial person until I was 12. The area at the time was only black and white. They stayed on one side & we on another. People got along! Though everyone just seemed to operate on all these invisible lines. I did know a gay woman, she was a friend of my mom. It was just a different time back then & I was thought then that gay men was pedophiles, I know now that it is not true).

Anyways, fast forward. I am 13 in North Carolina.

I had, in a matter of a couple of months, 3 guys try to kidnap me. This blog has gotten too long. I will explain those events later. Another guy that was older, that I had met shortly after. I thought he was a bit weird, but cool.

I was never one to avoid strangers, as not looking at myself as a little kid. If someone tried to grab me, I was just going to make them let go. That was my mind set. Anyways.

The guy gave me a ride somewhere for something. So we get to talking. I had started to smoke. He agreed to buy me a pack. So I was thinking: « hey, cool, here is a guy old enough to buy smokes and beer. And he is willing to plus he has a car, cool deal.

We would spend time here & there. I thought the dude was just odd & bored. So I would hang out with him here & there. As I could always depend on him to help me out when I needed it. I did not know the fool was a prolific pedophile. I mean, we would talk about women & all that like normal guys. So I just thought he was a square.

At the time drinking cough syrup was getting popular for teenagers. I would pop Nyquil gel caps sometimes, as would feel the effect, but not the nasty taste. *Nyquil actually has chemicals that will make a person hallucinate. But they put other chemicals that make it so a person will throw up if they consume too much of it.

It just so happened the cough syrup to pass out the guys method. So when it came to slam a shot of Nyquil & chase it with whiskey. I was all for it. He was making jokes about me not being tough, that he bet I couldn’t do it again. I poured out & slammed! Of course later on I passed out. I felt weird, so I opened my eyes. There I am at 13 & this dude has my penis in his mouth.

I push his head, then kick him off the bed. I’m trying to fix my pants & get my head straight. Cussing him out. He is walking towards me trying to calm me down. I grab a souvenir baseball bat. It is a smaller version with a logo on it. They sell them at various events. I threatened him with it & my knife & told him to take me home.

The whole car ride home I had that bat raised, telling him in so many words not even to look at me. Shocked we didn’t get pulled over, as it damn sure looked like one of those need to be pulled over situations.

When I got home I took a shower & was standing there looking in the mirror. All that shit came flooding back. The 3 dudes, at different times that tried to get me in the car with them. The guy at the trade day event. What happened that day. My step dads mental abuse that I could not understand why & him always calling me some name to talk down on me. I thought it all came down to how I looked. There I am at 13, looking in a mirror with my knife in my hand & thinking of cutting my face up.

Thankfully I didn’t . Though after thinking like that, it is the reason I never did PCP or hallucinating drugs. As I always heard of guys getting high on that stuff & doing crazy stuff, like peeling his face off to feed to the dogs. True story, it happened in New York City!

Shortly after that event, is when my real dad beat me with the 2×4 board. It is also when I started to fight back. The next time he hit me, I hit him back.

Okay, now those events are a big reason why A) my looks are not relevant to my concept of self. B) I have always felt much more comfortable with females. & C) I have very few friends that are guys. Though the ones from my life that was, they share a common trait. Aggressive & rough around the edges types. I got rough edges & I am real direct. Which some seem to not be able to deal with. Life & prison made me that way. Anyways. The point of all that, which I had no real desire to share with people, it is simply to express.

I do not get egotistical or vain because of all kinds of women in my life. Never have, as it has been a common thing all my life. I do not care if 10000 Victoria Secret models wrote me.

What would it matter if I am strapped on a gurney?

It doesn’t mean shit! My case should be the focus.

Also to make sure no one gets the wrong impression. I know what all gays are not pedophiles. I actually write to a gay dude. Well I write to a dude, who just so happen to be that. Point is I don’t care. I knew a guy when free that was, so I was sensible to know, as I got older to not start gay bashing & such.

I don’t care give a damn who sleeps with who, so long as it is not a child. I got a real big problem with people that hurt children in any way.

Up until this point, only a few people knew about some of these events. I really didn’t want to write about it, though want people to finally understand how little I give a damn about my looks. And that I want people to focus more on my being wrongfully convicted rather then how I look. As that jury damn sure did not give a damn about how I looked when they sentenced me to death!


I gotta go.

Veni, Vidi, Vidi,

In Solidarity

Clinton Lee young #999447                                           saveaninnocentlfe.com

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