Let me be clear: I hate being a prisoner. The very idea of it chafes my nature and shakes my composure. The reality of it torments me... when I let it.
For you, I want to soften the blow of such a vehement statement, but - for me - for my survival here - the tattered truth needs to remain unpatched and unglittered.
Prison is what it is, and what it is, is ugly.
Every day.
It's the sort of deep-seated ugly that goes back generations. The sort of place built on a forgotten moment of the universe- a rotten house sinking into a divine blink. It lives in an eternal state of near collapse, a permanent pause in fragility's ode to violence and cruelty.
But yes! - it is splattered with soft beauties and rife with miracles. That is no exaggeration on my part. True love flourishes here, the North Star star stays steadily faithful to each of it's misbegotten souls, and the sun scares away yesterday's nightmares. There is a good here, and it is frightful and ferocious.
Still even the most precious of sparkles is simply a diamond tacked to a sow's ear. There's no pretending it is a silk purse.
And let me be clear - worse than being in prison is being a prisoner. Prison is just a place, even when it is hideous and haunted. Being a prisoner is a state of existence- a sandpit of life that pulls your dignity to your ankles, undermines your rational mind, liters your soul with sour faith, and fills your mouth with sandy words.
All this is the truth.
But I try to hold it back from being my whole or only truth.
I still celebrate here.
I still savor each of my days.
I collect beauties, hunt gratitudes, and constantly repaint the tear-worn shack walls. I dig deep into the sandpit to find the space where - wildly and naturally- joy blooms and trust grows. I remind myself that you don't need a silk purse to find happiness on the brink of a blink.
Most days, a sow's ear does just fine.
So I live my days, and rest my nights, and before counting down to a time when my beloved country will let me wear my tarnished humanity again, I send the fog in my soul up to the starlit sky and the powers that light it.
Please, I pray.
Let me be clear.
Help me stay clear.
