As the years slide by, I forget the petty slights, the adolescent dramas, the tawdry duplicity behind so many personal rifts. At the time, I clung to protecting my ego, called it “sticking to my principles”, and ended up lonelier for the trouble.
But as my sentence winds down, and I am indeed lonelier–me writing this blog post into the oblivion of the internet from a half empty cell–I’ve let go of feeling righteous, and all I feel is regret. Things didn’t have to happen this way…
I’m 35, at the halfway point of life, still feeling like a young man in a man’s body (at least with muscles now), still figuring it out. Prison has a way of changing perceptions, of sharpening and putting into focus what is important.
Beneath the machismo, the reckless hedonism, the empty boasts, the anonymous liaisons, all I want is a good job, a hot wife, a couple kids, and dental insurance.
I want to be boring.
Easy Trouble 