October 21, 2018
October 21, 2018
I’m 31 today. I’ve spent 8 birthdays in prison. Almost one-third of my life. Weird.
You don’t celebrate birthdays in here, because when someone finds out it’s your birthday the only party you’re getting is a blanket party — they tie you to your bunk with a blanket and beat the shit out of you.
Only recently have I needed to remember how old I am. One time, in the middle years of my prison sentence, someone asked me how old I was. I honestly couldn’t remember. I had to do the math.
What’s strange is that when I was doing time, time ceased to exist, but now that my time is served, it ticks incessantly.
You don’t celebrate birthdays in here, because when someone finds out it’s your birthday the only party you’re getting is a blanket party — they tie you to your bunk with a blanket and beat the shit out of you.
Only recently have I needed to remember how old I am. One time, in the middle years of my prison sentence, someone asked me how old I was. I honestly couldn’t remember. I had to do the math.
What’s strange is that when I was doing time, time ceased to exist, but now that my time is served, it ticks incessantly.
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