I'm going to re-open my world of incarceration to you my virtual celly by writing what I feel, see, and experience as my stay in this concrete paradise continues (sigh). Hold on, give me a second to gather myself (tear trickles down my face), I'm sorry but with my first parole review in 20 years, I felt freedom on my fingertips, but I guess its just not my time. Thank you so much (you know who you are).
So, its good to be back with you, (turning my fan in your direction), um you might need this because summer is officially back, and as I wrote in my blog post around this time last year, Summer in Texas air-condition-less prisons equals profuse sweating and extreme discomfort. Not that I like it, but I'm used to it by now, so as my guest celly, you get the fan.
Have you ever wanted something or someone so bad that it hurts? I have a running list of things I hurt and long for, but what I long for inside most is my freedom. I believe it was Thomas Paine who said it best during the American Revolution, "Give me liberty or give me death." Had I made parole, one of the many things I was looking forward to doing was taking a woman out on a memorable date. Can you believe that? I just turned 38 years of age and I've never been on a traditional date with a woman. The problem is I've been locked up since I was 17 years of age, so there's a lot of ordinary, everyday life experiences that I haven't had the opportunity to do. Not yet, but I will soon.
I know it sounds cliche, but I firmly believe the main tragedies and triumphs we encounter in life are for a reason. Most people concentrate their focus and attention on the problem so they rarely see the hidden reasons for how we we can gain/grow from our inevitable problems (they are coming, believe that). Some time back I locked eyes with a beautiful exotic woman. When I saw her, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She was one of the few women I've seen in prison that was actually my type. As a mental survival technique I try not to think about freedom too much, but seeing her weakened me, and made me miss my freedom and fueled my fantasy to take a woman out on a date. Without uttering one word to her, she, from a distance and without knowing it, inspired me to write and add four amazing, radio-worthy songs to my personal catalog of songs.
The same woman, ironically enough, is one of the reasons I'm not going home my first time up for parole. A hard lesson I learned, and one more painful experience from which to grow. We can't always have what we want, when we want it. One day soon, maybe next year if I make parole my second time up, when I hear my first song on the radio and witness the physical manifestation of my dreams in real time, I'll be able to look back on these extra days I've spent in prison, writing even more emotionally packed, pain-driven songs as being worthed.
Right or wrong, if this is what helps me to cope with my pain and to give it meaning, then that's a good enough reason for me.