exhaustion…

Suprise (somewhat – knew about the date, but not confirmed until this morning) corporate gig with Vau de Vire Society today at the W hotel, nine hours plus with in and out-load of all of our equipment.
Makeup still smeared on my face with only one cleaning, I leave it until tomorrow – more goes on then anyway.
I’ve been wanting to write more for days, but just haven’t had the time or that delicious sense of solitude that becons the words…

So much to do in the next few days. I leave for New Orleans on Monday, and have yet to find a place to sleep for the week I’m there. Perhaps tomorrow night, after the Wharf and dinner with my visiting mom, I’ll get my shit together – call the people that I need to just to simply say hello, make arrangements for NOLA, write more about my jail time…

It’s strange – perhaps those days in jail did have an effect on me, tough Kevin asked recently how I ws adjusting and I said fine, no problem…

 Twelve days of being locked in a 9×12 cell, with little “Pod Time” as they call it, where we get to step out into the common area and almost pretend we’re human. Almost.

The world doesn’t exist in there. Not the outside world – It can’t. I almost understand why people spend their lives in and out of prison, and it’s difficult not to equate it with being a slave in the BDSM world. It’s almost, in a way, so completely freeing, sacrificing your freedom.
They take away any responsibility. You do what they say – if you don’t, you are punished. Life is incredibly easy with the right frame of mind, and you need to have that. If you think of the outside world, what you’re missing, what your friends are doing – if you think of fresh air and good (ie: recognizable and healthy) food, if you think of feeling the Sun on your shoulders, rain on your face, or looking at and adoring the Moon – if you think about a comfortable place to sleep, even if it’s in a van – if you think at all, you’ll be miserable; you’ll go crazy. In there, breakfast, served at 5am for no reason that I could figure out, is the most exciting part of the day. That’s when you could tell what the stuff on the plastic tray was, and since they serve “dinner” at 3:30pm, almost eleven hours before, a true sleep never came easily. Not on that bunk, not hungry. After breakfast, with some food in my stomach and nothing to do but wait until lunch but sit in the cell, that is when I could sleep…

The concrete and steel becomes your home. There is no other way. It’s not rehabilitation – it is breaking the spirit, and gods, how they try…

Even after only twelve days inside – which is essentially nothing, I find myself struggling at times to take care of the thngs I need to. In there, everything was done for me. In there, I couldn’t think about you without wishing I could call and hear your voice. Couldn’t make plans, couldn’t work – it was a strange lesson in living in the “Now” – but far from a healthy one. In their “now”, there is nothing. No action, love or possibilities. In that now, you don’t want to dream.

You only wait…

Now, it is time to sleep, in a glorious bed sans a lovely friend.

Make good dreams.

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