Dear Diary March 15th 2018
I need to talk to somebody. I’m going to lose my mind soon, maybe I should start talking to Joshua again soon, maybe I should write Liz again. Writing Liz took so much out of me the last time I wrote her, pouring out all my emotions knowing with certainty I will not get a reply. Josh, I was so mad at Josh for suggesting that Liz might not be faithful to me. I’m trying to look at this from his perspective, seeing a wife that won’t talk to her husband, won’t let her kids do the same, and won’t talk to her husband’s friends either. If I really focus on that I guess thinking there’s more going on than I can see isn’t exactly ridiculous, but what does that help? I love her and I believe she loves me and would remain faithful. If I let myself think otherwise I think I would totally lose hope. It’s hard to keep hoping, but I still look forward to getting out of here and going to see her even if she is furious and she hasn’t talked to me in a long time. Just that face, with it’s smooth skin and sharp lines and dark eyes, it’s still the one I see when I close my eyes and try to ignore where I am. I can almost forget I’m in a bunk bed above Kal when I focus on her, just the image of her doing something normal like cracking eggs into a pan. Sometimes I think of her wearing my baggy t-shirts while making pancakes on a Saturday morning. Everytime it manages to sneak a ray of joy and hope into my day no matter how bleak it has been. I hope it doesn’t get taken from me as contraband.
Did Joshua have a reason for thinking that about her? Maybe I should ask him. Not talking to anybody on the outside is worse than getting bad news from people on the outside I’m finding. When I think of how being ignored like this makes me feel I fall into a vivid daydream. I’m in the dark in a mountain valley, before the light withers I see tall mountains crowded tightly and high above me. After night falls and before I try to sleep I shout so I can hear the echo of my voice off of the mountains so I can feel like I’m not alone. No echo comes, nothing at all. My voice just disappears as soon as it leaves my lips, falling dead to the ground like a flower gone dry and tossed by a wicked wind. It wasn’t quite like I was mute, I could hear the sounds come out of my mouth, but they just never mattered and never got far. As if they were sterile, unable to father meaningful sound and just remaining mindless noise. Where did the hills go? What killed my voice? Questions, all I have is questions, even in my daydreams.
Tag: solitary refinement
Solitary Refinement Chapter 23
Dearest Elizabeth March 20th 2018
I love you. I’ve been wanting to say that again for a while. I couldn’t wait any longer to write you, I tried. I just couldn’t do it. I needed to say it, but to be honest it’s never been as nerve wracking or scary to say that. For the first time in years I was worried that you might not actually feel that way about me anymore. In three short months I will have been here for a full year and I haven’t heard a single word from you, all I’ve gotten from you is my own parcels returned back to me.
Do you have any idea what this is doing to me? Do you remember right after we had started dating I had just got that lousy car? The one that was way louder than it should have been and had a key broken off in the drivers door so I always had to unlock your side first? I wanted to see what the gas gauge looked like when it actually went empty because it’s different in every car, sometimes above the red line sometimes below it remember like I told you? That one day I was driving you to work and I finally ran out of gas and I had forgotten to put some back up gas in the jerry can and you were late by thirty minutes.
I feel something like that car must have felt, like you’re just waiting to see how much of this torture I can take before I finally give up and die. I just want to hear from you. Could you do that, I need to know if you’re safe and alive and happy with the kids. It must be hard with the kids alone, but I promise you there’s no way it’s as bad as being alone without them. I am beyond confusion, like I understood that you would be mad at me that I wound up in prison because of my stupidity but that was nine months ago. No change in heart or missing waking up to me? Just tell me something simple, like how it’s a drag to have to take the garbage out yourself or something like that, I know you hated that. Or how you have to figure out how to make coffee for yourself. Just talk to me for goodness sake, I really need it, I need something to look forward to. If I knew I might be receiving letters from you it would make waking up above my awful cellmate a little less awful. I love you, but I’m kind of losing hope here. Don’t you want your children to speak to their father? I just don’t get it, help me understand.
Sincerely,
Your Husband.
A.N. This isn’t going to go on a whole lot longer. I hope people are enjoying it. Reviews would be lovely.
Solitary Refinement Chapter 22
Dear Diary March 15th 2018
I need to talk to somebody. I’m going to lose my mind soon, maybe I should start talking to Joshua again soon, maybe I should write Liz again. Writing Liz took so much out of me the last time I wrote her, pouring out all my emotions knowing with certainty I will not get a reply. Josh, I was so mad at Josh for suggesting that Liz might not be faithful to me. I’m trying to look at this from his perspective, seeing a wife that won’t talk to her husband, won’t let her kids do the same, and won’t talk to her husband’s friends either. If I really focus on that I guess thinking there’s more going on than I can see isn’t exactly ridiculous, but what does that help? I love her and I believe she loves me and would remain faithful. If I let myself think otherwise I think I would totally lose hope. It’s hard to keep hoping, but I still look forward to getting out of here and going to see her even if she is furious and she hasn’t talked to me in a long time. Just that face, with it’s smooth skin and sharp lines and dark eyes, it’s still the one I see when I close my eyes and try to ignore where I am. I can almost forget I’m in a bunk bed above Kal when I focus on her, just the image of her doing something normal like cracking eggs into a pan. Sometimes I think of her wearing my baggy t-shirts while making pancakes on a Saturday morning. Everytime it manages to sneak a ray of joy and hope into my day no matter how bleak it has been. I hope it doesn’t get taken from me as contraband.
Did Joshua have a reason for thinking that about her? Maybe I should ask him. Not talking to anybody on the outside is worse than getting bad news from people on the outside I’m finding. When I think of how being ignored like this makes me feel I fall into a vivid daydream. I’m in the dark in a mountain valley, before the light withers I see tall mountains crowded tightly and high above me. After night falls and before I try to sleep I shout so I can hear the echo of my voice off of the mountains so I can feel like I’m not alone. No echo comes, nothing at all. My voice just disappears as soon as it leaves my lips, falling dead to the ground like a flower gone dry and tossed by a wicked wind. It wasn’t quite like I was mute, I could hear the sounds come out of my mouth, but they just never mattered and never got far. As if they were sterile, unable to father meaningful sound and just remaining mindless noise. Where did the hills go? What killed my voice? Questions, all I have is questions, even in my daydreams.
Solitary Refinement Chapter 21
Dear Diary February 14th 2017I sent something to Liz for Valentines Day a few days ago. Return to Sender again. How can I stop this? I can’t make her accept the things I send to her and the kids, I can’t make her respond to me, and I can’t make her visit. I used to love Valentines Day, I wouldn’t do any overtime on those days so I could come home early. I’d swing open the door with flowers in my hand still in my overalls and dirty all over. She would give a rare smile and she’d be already dolled up with her hair up and a pretty dress on hoping I’d do something special and I never disappointed. I’d get a baby sitter and do a movie and a fancy dinner, after I got showered and dressed nicely myself. The whole time I was getting ready Liz would be positively giddy, just kind of giggling and bouncing on the spot like Nina, “come on, come on!”
Sometimes we’d even drive to the city and see a play, a big production, and we’d get champagne during the intermission. Those days I spared no expense. When we got home she would check to see that the kids were asleep and then practically throw me into bed. Unzipping her dress in one quick motion that I’m still replaying in my head, and unbuttoning my shirt while I fall backwards onto the bed. She always got so excited about sex on Valentines Day, any time I went over the top with spoiling ourselves really. I was always excited by her beauty, and I always wanted to spoil her too. I would have done all those extravagant things everyday if I could have. I would always have to make up for how expensive those nights were by working at least twelve hour days the rest of the month.
It was always worth it, not just for the great sex but to see Liz get excited about going out. To see her all ready to go as soon as I get home, electric with energy and bouncing just like our little girl, she so rarely got excited about anything that it was so great for me to see. The kids I could always make happy, just doing anything with them, all they ever wanted was my time and attention. Liz though, it was so hard to make her smile or even seem happy sometimes. I tried though, that’s all I ever did.
Solitary Refinement Chapter 22
Dear Diary March 15th 2018
I need to talk to somebody. I’m going to lose my mind soon, maybe I should start talking to Joshua again soon, maybe I should write Liz again. Writing Liz took so much out of me the last time I wrote her, pouring out all my emotions knowing with certainty I will not get a reply. Josh, I was so mad at Josh for suggesting that Liz might not be faithful to me. I’m trying to look at this from his perspective, seeing a wife that won’t talk to her husband, won’t let her kids do the same, and won’t talk to her husband’s friends either. If I really focus on that I guess thinking there’s more going on than I can see isn’t exactly ridiculous, but what does that help? I love her and I believe she loves me and would remain faithful. If I let myself think otherwise I think I would totally lose hope. It’s hard to keep hoping, but I still look forward to getting out of here and going to see her even if she is furious and she hasn’t talked to me in a long time. Just that face, with it’s smooth skin and sharp lines and dark eyes, it’s still the one I see when I close my eyes and try to ignore where I am. I can almost forget I’m in a bunk bed above Kal when I focus on her, just the image of her doing something normal like cracking eggs into a pan. Sometimes I think of her wearing my baggy t-shirts while making pancakes on a Saturday morning. Everytime it manages to sneak a ray of joy and hope into my day no matter how bleak it has been. I hope it doesn’t get taken from me as contraband.
Did Joshua have a reason for thinking that about her? Maybe I should ask him. Not talking to anybody on the outside is worse than getting bad news from people on the outside I’m finding. When I think of how being ignored like this makes me feel I fall into a vivid daydream. I’m in the dark in a mountain valley, before the light withers I see tall mountains crowded tightly and high above me. After night falls and before I try to sleep I shout so I can hear the echo of my voice off of the mountains so I can feel like I’m not alone. No echo comes, nothing at all. My voice just disappears as soon as it leaves my lips, falling dead to the ground like a flower gone dry and tossed by a wicked wind. It wasn’t quite like I was mute, I could hear the sounds come out of my mouth, but they just never mattered and never got far. As if they were sterile, unable to father meaningful sound and just remaining mindless noise. Where did the hills go? What killed my voice? Questions, all I have is questions, even in my daydreams.
Solitary Refinement Chapter 21
Dear Diary February 14th 2017
I sent something to Liz for Valentines Day a few days ago. Return to Sender again. How can I stop this? I can’t make her accept the things I send to her and the kids, I can’t make her respond to me, and I can’t make her visit. I used to love Valentines Day, I wouldn’t do any overtime on those days so I could come home early. I’d swing open the door with flowers in my hand still in my overalls and dirty all over. She would give a rare smile and she’d be already dolled up with her hair up and a pretty dress on hoping I’d do something special and I never disappointed. I’d get a baby sitter and do a movie and a fancy dinner, after I got showered and dressed nicely myself. The whole time I was getting ready Liz would be positively giddy, just kind of giggling and bouncing on the spot like Nina, “come on, come on!”
Sometimes we’d even drive to the city and see a play, a big production, and we’d get champagne during the intermission. Those days I spared no expense. When we got home she would check to see that the kids were asleep and then practically throw me into bed. Unzipping her dress in one quick motion that I’m still replaying in my head, and unbuttoning my shirt while I fall backwards onto the bed. She always got so excited about sex on Valentines Day, any time I went over the top with spoiling ourselves really. I was always excited by her beauty, and I always wanted to spoil her too. I would have done all those extravagant things everyday if I could have. I would always have to make up for how expensive those nights were by working at least twelve hour days the rest of the month.
It was always worth it, not just for the great sex but to see Liz get excited about going out. To see her all ready to go as soon as I get home, electric with energy and bouncing just like our little girl, she so rarely got excited about anything that it was so great for me to see. The kids I could always make happy, just doing anything with them, all they ever wanted was my time and attention. Liz though, it was so hard to make her smile or even seem happy sometimes. I tried though, that’s all I ever did.
Solitary Refinement Chapter 20
Dear Diary January 11th 2017
Okay, peanut butter mystery solved holy shit. This guy named Phil who I’ve never spoken to before but the word is he said something about Trevor to somebody, something he ought not have. I don’t know how but Trevor has dirt on everybody, I wonder what he knows about me. Anyways Phil was eating his oatmeal at breakfast and got up to use the washroom, while he was gone one of Trevor’s pals stirred that peanut butter into the oatmeal quickly.
Phil came back, had three quick spoonfuls and then was on the ground gasping for air, trying to scream for help but no sound came. His face went red, and then blue and nobody did a thing. After several minutes a guard, a new face, came and called for first aid and now I think he’s getting care in the hospital wing. He was without air for several minutes, I wonder if he has brain damage, and I wonder what he said about Trevor to deserve this. That guy worries me more and more, and I’m taking orders from him. Wonderful, just wonderful. I’m the guy who supplied that damn peanut butter. I’m an accomplice to this, will there be an investigation? I could have my sentence extended if I aided in this crime, he could have died, he may have brain damage. Yet if I don’t do what Trevor says who knows what he’ll do to me.
This is the only place where I don’t have to hide feelings anymore. Where I can talk about how I’ve been feeling. It’s like I’m in the part of a movie where nothing could get worse, the enemy is closing in and the sky is dark. Right at the darkest moment the sun breaks through the clouds and somebody comes to the rescue, riding over the hill and cutting through the enemies army straight towards me. As if the hero were a compass finally finding true north. Right now I feel like I’m at that part of the story, but nobody comes. They just close in ever closer, I can see the flecks of black in their irises, the sweat dripping of the ends of noses, trickling in time with their steps.
Is there a way out of this, can I be the hero? Do I have what it takes to save myself? I used to make up stories for Alister with brave and noble heroes, they could get out of any situation. They were as nimble with their tongues as they were with their swords, half the time stopping a conflict before it arose, winning enemies over to the cause of justice. Yet when they did fight boy could they fight, every blow finding home, not a stroke wasted and never was being outnumbered a cause to be distressed. I wonder now if Alister thought his daddy could be such a hero, that if he was stuck I might be able to save him in such a splendid display of courage and skill. I certainly know now that that’s not me, it feels like it’s all I know sometimes. I’m not enough, not enough muscle, not enough charm, not enough intelligence, not enough courage. Too much anxiety, too much idiocy, too much fear.
Still I wonder, with nobody to save me,
Can I save myself?
Solitary Refinement Chapter 19
Medical Report December 11th 2017
Inmate #: 34653
Sex: Male
Age: 30
Affliction: Split lip, bruising around the eye and eyebrow.
Cause: Tripped down a flight of stairs.
Treatment: Disinfect cut in the lip. Swelling should go down in a few days.
Solitary Refinement Chapter 18
Dearest Elizabeth January 2nd 2018
Return to sender. Why are you doing this? You realize you’re not just hurting me but the kids too right? What am I supposed to with colouring books in prison? People already think I’m weird. I’m going to have to throw this stuff in the trash. The stuff I worked to get Alister and Nina for Christmas, in the garbage… This sucks, I’m trying my best from in here to still contribute in some way to their lives, I can’t do much but try to send things if you won’t bring them to visit me. Can’t you see that? Do the kids ask about me? What do they say about me? What does Alister tell his friends at school about why his dad never comes to pick him up at school?
I got really mad at Joshua recently for suggesting that you would use the opportunity of my absence to cheat on me. Can you believe that? I got so mad at him, I know you wouldn’t do that. I’m pretty mad at him right now, I don’t really want to talk to him for a while and you don’t want to talk to me so I guess nobody will hear from me for a while then.
I’m going to get a journal, writing words down onto paper is the only thing I come even close to enjoying here. Talking through a pen onto the blank paper, it feels like these pages are the only things listening to me and receptive to my thoughts and feelings and willing to hold them for me. The blank canvas of white paper as it holds onto black ink doesn’t judge me or look for weakness the way the people here do.
Sorry, I kind of rambled on there, like I said I’ll get a journal for my random thoughts so I won’t have to bother anybody for a while since you’re not talking to me and I don’t want to talk to Josh right now.
Sincerely,
Your husband.
Solitary Refinement Chapter 18
Dearest Elizabeth January 2nd 2018
Return to sender. Why are you doing this? You realize you’re not just hurting me but the kids too right? What am I supposed to with colouring books in prison? People already think I’m weird. I’m going to have to throw this stuff in the trash. The stuff I worked to get Alister and Nina for Christmas, in the garbage… This sucks, I’m trying my best from in here to still contribute in some way to their lives, I can’t do much but try to send things if you won’t bring them to visit me. Can’t you see that? Do the kids ask about me? What do they say about me? What does Alister tell his friends at school about why his dad never comes to pick him up at school?
I got really mad at Joshua recently for suggesting that you would use the opportunity of my absence to cheat on me. Can you believe that? I got so mad at him, I know you wouldn’t do that. I’m pretty mad at him right now, I don’t really want to talk to him for a while and you don’t want to talk to me so I guess nobody will hear from me for a while then.
I’m going to get a journal, writing words down onto paper is the only thing I come even close to enjoying here. Talking through a pen onto the blank paper, it feels like these pages are the only things listening to me and receptive to my thoughts and feelings and willing to hold them for me. The blank canvas of white paper as it holds onto black ink doesn’t judge me or look for weakness the way the people here do.
Sorry, I kind of rambled on there, like I said I’ll get a journal for my random thoughts so I won’t have to bother anybody for a while since you’re not talking to me and I don’t want to talk to Josh right now.
Sincerely,
Your husband.
Vagabond Prophet 