Journal Entry Oct, 28, 2018
This may be the final entry in this journal. What I am about to telly ou, you probably won’t believe, but I swear it’s all true, at least I believe it is. I’ve been waking up in this same rack to the same bunkie and same neighbors for the past 730 days. Bunk A-83 of Ontario House, Lake Erie Correctional Facility, that’s my home. For the past 2 years I’ve lived the same boring life day in and day out, the same rotten food, the same hard bed, the same bullshit T.V., and the same dejected faces, day, after, day, after day. That is until this morning. I woke up around 6am my usual time, but that was where all similarities ended. Today when I woke up I opened my eyes to the once familiar surroundings of that which I had so longed for, for the past 2 plus years. Those old familiar trappings of my very own bedroom leaped out at my like a dream come true. I literally shook my head to clear the proverbial cobwebs. I gingerly got out of bed and like a man touching a stove to see if it is hot I gently went about the room feeling everything to see if they were real. Then my eyes rested on what was the most wonderful sight of all, there on my bed was my beloved dog, Dakota, the pet who I had to have my family put to sleep just after my first year in prison. And there she was lying there sleepy eyed in her old familiar place on my bed. Tears of joy filled my eyes, could this really be true? Had it all been a dream? But how could it have been so real, I could still remember the pain and loss I felt at losing her. And what of all the friends and acquaintances I had made. All the faces I remember seeing just yesterday. All of them good or bad was all of it just a figment of my imagination from a drug or alcohol induced sleep? I thought about it for a while and decided to search out some of my prison friends on the Internet. I spent hours but it just didn’t make sense, I could find none of them on social media. These people I ate with, walked with, talked with and at times laughed with, not a single name could be found. I was about to give up when it had occurred to me that I had forgotten to look up my best friend. When I put his full name into the computer I felt a wave of disbelief wash over my like a tidal wave. It seemed as if there was a break in my reality. What I was looking at was my friend’s obituary notice. The fact that he was gone was at first of great but normal concern, the thing that my mind could not comprehend was that date of this notice, Oct, 28, 2013. It said that my friend has been one of 128 victims of a dormitory fire at Lake Erie Correction Institute.That was 3 years before I had even set foot in that God forsaken facility. What I saw on the following page froze my heart in my chest. There was a picture of a group photo taken at an institute function and there standing in the second row was my friend but what really struck me with terror was that the person in the first row that he was standing behind was me. Now I tell you all this with my hand on the Bible, so you make of it what you will. I still don’t know what to think and probably never will figure it out, so here I will end my story, it’s getting late, I’m tired and I think they will be bringing my medication soon, I don’t like to miss my meds. I like this place a lot. I’ve made some good friends here, especially my best friend it seems like we have always been friends like I’ve known him from somewhere before. Goodbye. The following excerpt was written by Karl A. Meier, patient #691843 of Laurelwood Psychiatric Hospital since October 28, 2001: Oct, 28, 2019 This may be the final entry in this journal, what I am about to tell you, you probably won’t believe, but I swear it’s all true, as least I believe it is. The End Karl Meier was incarcerated on Oct, 28th, 2016. His dog Dakota was born on June 28, 2007. Dakota was put to rest on Oct 28, 2017. This story was written on Oct, 28, 2018.
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When you look at a rainbow what do you see?
Are the colors as pungent and sad as they are to me. Reds for my rage my anger and pain for the Things I have lost since I’ve been in this place. Blue is the sadness and grief that Dwells in my heart for the people long Gone between now back to the Start. Green is the envy I hold near and dear Towards all those who leave and get Out of here. Yellow’s the sunshine that burns out My eyes, when I look up and see it but My freedom’s denied Those colors of beauty give no hope to Me. It ook the blackness of this storm To help clearly see. Old man and old dog together in the park.
Sitting alone together under the canopy of oak leaves Thinking, thinking of their days long past. His mind wanders as his hands busy themselves. The black and silver dust falls to the ground between his withered feet, He sighs as another losing scratch-off ticket falls from his Weathered hands and floats to the leaf covered ground, The old dog at his feet yawns and tilts his head to look at his friend, Will he give me a treat now? He wonders Day after day the two old friends sit under their tree. Thinking and scratching, thinking and scratching, Will this be my lucky day? They both think, Will they even be missed when their tree is bare? From the womb to the light,
Freedom lost From day into night, Freedom lost Must live by their rules, Freedom lost Live by God’s rules, Freedom lost No job and no home Freedom lost A family and mortgage Freedom lost Drugs and addiction, Freedom lost Pink slipped in, Freedom lost Stuck in this chair Freedom lost Behind these walls, Freedom Lost Into the ground, Free at last What is happiness?
Who can say? One’s happiness may be another’s misery! Do I really need to dance like a fool? Smile like a clown! Does that truly mean I’m happy or is it just a mask? People tell me I’m dark or sad or angry. They say be happy, act happy, write happy! Aren’t we told even as children to do what makes you happy? That we need to make our own happiness and not count on others? Can you make others happy if you can’t make yourself happy? Some say yes, just ask Robin Williams, John Belushi, or Chris Farley. How happy were they? How happy was Lenny Bruce and so many others? Just because I make you happy does not help me, At times it may even scare me. So really when I’m told, “You should be happy and you will write happy things” Is that for your benefit or mine? Maybe, just maybe I like living in the dark. It may be where my happiness lies. Remember rainbows fade, puppies grow old, There really is no pot of gold, and unicorns don’t exist! But the dark is real and forever And for some of us that’s enough. |
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