December 21, 2018

December 21, 2018

Christmas shopping is hard. I have not had to choose anything in a very long time. Being locked up, I didn’t need to decide much – What should I wear today? Oh, how about the same orange outfit I wear every day? What should I eat for breakfast? Whatever the hell the menu says. What should I do today? The same thing I do everyday, Pinky.

Now that I’m a free man I have to make all kinds of decisions, like what do I get my Mom for Christmas? I went to Wal-Mart yesterday and my head almost exploded. There is so much stuff in Wal-Mart. Vibrating massage chairs, Bluetooth home audio systems, giant fuzzy pandas. And it was all coming at me at warp speed. I felt like sitting down in the middle of the aisle and throwing a fit. I think that 4 year old in the wrapping-paper section was on to something. How does anyone function in the world with all of the choices available?

Despite all the fresh, newness of the world around me, I still feel prison following me, stalking me in the shifting shadows of the coffee shop or the empty air above the bed as I fall asleep. I had a dream last night where I was in my cell and my celly was crouched down by the sink. He found a stash of shanks in a hole where the pipes meet the wall. He was so excited by his discovery. I was furious. I was supposed to get out soon and if we got caught with those I’d get more time. I told him to flush them before the C.O. did his walk. But he couldn’t flush the toilet because, for some reason, our toilet was just a hole in the ground with a toilet seat over it. When I woke up this morning and realized it was just a dream, I was so relieved. It had felt so real. And then like that, it was only a dream. But then I had another feeling that followed the relief, a hollowness. I couldn’t help but think of some of the friends I left behind. They were still in there. They didn’t get to go to Wal-Mart to shop for the people they love. They didn’t get to wake up from the nightmare this morning.