"Pretty Please" 05.21.2013

I'm sitting here shook. I don't know what to do! The sun has set. My lights in my cell are shut off so all that shines in the orange hallogen night light. In exactly one week I see the parole board. And I don't know what to do! All these people want me to do something. How do I choose which something I do. Whose something is best for Brandon?

I can do to Mikwaukee to my girlfriend. I can go home to the farm. I could parole to Salt Lake City to a net of friends here. I still don't think I'll be able to do any of those options without fucking everything all up.

"People prescribe predictions and parole scenarios sitting shook stuck momentarity. Where do I go when cement and steel hell becomes unshakable concentrating on the body part I'm today flexing. Making it not on what will be but what is the future outside solitary prison is scary to me. It isn't that I don't want to make it. Free me and I'll be like Morgan Freeman Shawshank Redemption digging beneath some tree treasure for a second as this paroled thing then see beneath the muscle clarified mystery he isn't nothing but a heartbeat. They say to me I'll curl tonight around this question mark scared all I am capable of is hurting. Wanting a woman with beads smelling of nag champs to sit crosslegged in front of me as I dispel demon . Then to forget what shes seen and love me. In seven days gray faced board members decide seven more years for this devilish sinner. there is something to work here pulling unseen string an athiests angels deciding wheres the best place for this beast.

well he... can he... what should he... just wishing a feminine hand over my cheek, sand on my feet, sun on my face. Non-alone sleeping, another stupid fucking "poem" that helps me soberly see whats going on inside myself.

No matter what happens life itself is an amazing thing. We intelligent beings are professionals at making living complicated as all hell.

The key is just to enjoy the ride! Till! I! Die!