If we were having coffee right now, you'd probably ask me what I was doing having coffee at midnight when I have to be up in just a handful of hours.
I haven't been sleeping well, I'd tell you. Some days, I'm out for ten hours. Some days, I don't sleep at all. I've pretty much abandoned the ritual that goes along with a normal sleep schedule. Combine that with all my dinosaur toys and children's books, and you'd think I have a toddler.
But I don't. I like kids, but I don't want kids. That's one thing I still know about me and the life I want to build.
The rest, I am figuring it out. Sometimes I feel like everything is so clear, and then something shifts and I'm foggy again. That's the problem with having no strings attached.
It's really easy to float away.
You might say here, what everyone says. That I don't have to know where I'm going just yet. That I owe promises to no one. That I don't even have to sit down and figure it out, I can just live each day like the beautiful day it is.
You'd be right, but I'd feel myself swim a little further into the clouds. Like a flying mermaid. A fish out of water, a fiction off the ground. Going up, going up... going, going... three worlds, two worlds, one world, no worlds- SOLD.
Someone remove this girl's cuffs. Her strings. She's free to go to no place at all now.
I'm free, you know.
The thought of that still hits me in odd moments. This morning, it made me cry. In just over a month, I'll be completely free. Erase the trappings of last year. No more parole. Erase the trappings of the year or so before. No more prison. Erase the trappings of the four years before that. No more case hanging over my head.
Nothing above my head. Nothing under my feet. A flying mermaid that can't even find a cloud to build a castle on. A flying mermaid who doesn't even know how to build a castle, and wouldn't recognize a cloud if it hit her in the face.
Maybe all this fog is the inside of a cloud?
At this point, you'd probably want to sip my coffee to check it for alcohol. I still don't drink. I don't object to it. I just really like other beverages, especially the refillable-at-restaurants kind.
I think I'll have beer at the reading of my poetry book.
Did I make you spit your coffee out a bit? Did I say book? Yes, yes I did. The book of ugly prison stories is complete and will be available for sale on July 4th. I am planning a party in late July - a party in triplicate. A book shower, a post-parole freedom party, and a reading.
It's called Sack Nasty and I set up this fun program to promote it. It's called ThunderClap and people can basically pledge their support. On the day of the release, it'll post a tweet or Facebook message or Tumblr post for you- that way, everyone's post goes live at once.
https://www.thunderclap.it/projects/42907-prison-poetry-by-rarasaurIt's like slapping the internet in the face with a glittery mermaid tail. Since I shared this on Facebook today, the reach has expanded to 44,000 people.
Take our magic! Hear our rawr!
44,000 people?
It's moments like this where I realize I'm not as lost as I feel. I don't know if I can't see because of a terrible storm-ridden fog, or a beautiful dream-kissed cloud, but I know you can see me through it all.
Somehow that makes it less terrifying.
If we were drinking coffee, I'd tell you I finished a book. It's just poetry, but I finished it- while stuck between worlds, lost in haze, and out running the sounds of chains. It is about the ugly moments that still make me pause, the ones that make me vomit, the ones that make me cry. It's about the moments that turn my sleep into nightmares.
I haven't been sleeping well, I'd tell you, and I'd refill my coffee. And I'd refill yours. Because being awake in my mind when my body is tired doesn't feel so bad when caffeine is coursing through my veins and you are here with me.
... and maybe that's just a load of hot air, but don't worry ... I can't really float away. I don't fly or splash or swim. I'm not really a flying mermaid, or just a regular mermaid, or even just a fish.
I'm just basically a dinosaur. And all we do is keep on keeping on.
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I know this post seems melancholic and while that's been the general overtone of my year- I've been doing alright except for the sleep. Last night I dreamed clumps of my hair fell off- what does that mean?!
How's your sleep been? Do you ever drink coffee at midnight?
