Break Away

Scratch. One. Done.

It's disappointing now that it's over. That's how it is every time, because, after all, it's not like I'm getting somewhere. Like any of us are ever getting anywhere.

Sitting in my cell is not so bad. Well, not as bad as you, someone on the outside, would expect. I just sit here and think. Sometimes I get to leave and do cool stuff like ping-pong, or watch T.V., or lift weights... stuff like that. But mostly I'll jut sit here and think about my life. What I've done, who I loved, what I did to get stuck in here.

I'd love to tell you some dramatic story about how I was framed, it was a crime of passion, or even just that I'm crazy and had no control of my actions. But that would be a lie, and I'm just too dog tired to even think up a good lie anymore.

I just want to sit here, and wait for the day they'll let me out. Let me start over. Until then I don't want to think, or grow, or change. I wish I could freeze time in here and just let it pass out there so then I could come out and it would be like nothing ever happened, you know?

But that's stupid. As much as I hate it time keeps going and I am just going to keep going with it. Until I get out. Until I see her.

Just one more day, just one more scratch.

490 days to go- 489 scratches left.