Thank the gods for coffee.

 Overall my days are quite monotonous. I live more of an existence than a life. Some of the time is actually a fight for survival - not only physically, but mentally. For me it's just a pause in time. Although I age and grow older, I grow more in maturity and wisdom.

Everyday I wake, look out the 2'x2' window. Gazing at the razor sharp wire along the perimeter fence, the sun sparkling off each sharp strand - reminding me of the threat of harm to not only my body, but my mind as well. It seems the razor wire not only physically keeps me here, but somehow mentally prohibits me from really thinking of a life other than this. It's a terrible thing to want simple freedom so desperately. To look out at the beginnings of the world so close and limitless, yet it may as well be unseen over the horizon. And well it should be, at least then I wouldn't be terrorized and tortured with an absolute of not being able to have what I desire most. Life!

I often wonder if this reality is real. How can it be? I've heard so many stories of purgatory. This has to be that mythical place. Knowing I'm not dead yet not alive either. Just an existence with people I have nothing in common with other than a term of punishment.

During the day there are multiple "standing" counts to assure no one has slipped away. My day begins with a whistle blowing and a guard yelling "stand for count". With that announcement I have my first cup of coffee, turn on my tablet and listen to some music while I get my head together. This morning I'm listening to "Chevelle", not my favorite, but it works.

After count is cleared, breakfast is served. It's only breakfast as a title. Most of the time it is unrecognizable. Today was boiled eggs, the big double yolk ones, with a smidge of oatmeal... I think? 2 pieces of white bread and a pouch of milk. Virginia Dept. of Corrections has over a billion dollar annual budget yet the food is horrible. What we do get is shaken of the spoon (small portions). After breakfast we are counted again. We can leave our cells and I usually go into the pod or day room.

For the most part everyone stays out of each other's way, especially in the morning when tempers and actions are the most unfettered. After all, who the hell wants to wake up in here day after day? the worst fight I've seen in prison was at breakfast time. It was a gang fight - 2 on 2, and it lived up to all the violence that you would associate with a prison fight. So the mornings are the best time to just stay in your own lane and give everyone a wide berth.

Now where did I sit my coffee...

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