I had a dream last night... One that seemed to unrealistically real... I dreamed that woke up for work, and everything seemed so typical in another day of life. I walked to the bathroom to take a shower, stood in the mirror... But when I looked in the mirror. I saw myself, but in a way, it wasn't myself at all... It was almost like an artist rendering of me. So I stood and stared, wondering if this was me, or a prank, or something of that nature. Standing there, my vision became blurry, so I went to clear my eyes, but my reflection never moved... A voice came out to me, and said "all that is necessary in life can only be obtained through hard work and dedication..." I found this weird because that is exactly what one of my basketball coaches in church camps used to tell us. I started thinking that maybe this is just my conscience playing a trick on me. Then everything in the mirror begins to wash away like a saved by the bell sitcom and opens up into to a dark hallway with a light at the end, and I climb into the mirror and walk down the hallway... It was almost a metaphor of my life, I don't know where it's going, but you know the light at the end eventually leads somewhere...
As I walk down the hallway that seems to never ultimately end, I am seeing flashbacks of my childhood played back like an old drive in projector. The movies play back almost like I'm living them again... Every step I take I stop and think about the time I was building a remote control car track with my dad in the basement, followed by another scene of me forging my parents signature on a bad test, and everything keeps playing bad to good, bad to good, etc... It's like a roller coaster ride of emotions, to which I'm not really clear on how to react... I take the time to sit back and rekindle each memory, but once done, the blank screen rolls over flipping the old scrips around and around... Flashing nothing but a blank white scrip.... It's almost like showing me that "for every action comes an equal and opposite reaction..."
The pain and heartache that I caused all came at a price. A price that now, every day I am forced to live with. I'm on what seems to be a 24 hour a day lock down at my house, and the only free time I get is the time I spend at work, and what kind of free time is that? I don't have friends, just the shadow cast off of the single light standing at attention in the corner of the cell... Every night I see a new, what seems to be film strip, and yet every day I feel like I haven't slept but maybe an hour... I wake up tired for work, and tired of being in my cell, yet, I can't stop thinking that this is what I have created for myself... My blog, more and more every day, starts to look like a diary. So I know that the same thoughts I've been having just carried over into a new day, lovely I know... I'm starting to think that the 180 days in Jail don't seem that bad anymore, but still there's that light at the end of the tunnel... Some how, some way, I've got to find something to keep me positive while I'm left with just my thoughts, and my haunting past... Welcome to my life... A life of solitary confinement, with no bars other than the one's I put up for myself...
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