once upon a long long time ago (that's where all those crazy kids books started) somebody told me 'it works if you work it'. i thought, WHAT THE FUCK, work what?!

 

i thought i'd been working pretty damn hard to get what i thought i deserved, so, suddenly after years of abusing BullShit… i sure as hell got it. i'm guessing that so did you because we didn't come here to be told that. well, i didn't… maybe we need to hear it again.

 

i went to court today on clean day 45 this morning to get sentenced for certain factors influencing my life that i have already done time for. prison does not teach lessons, it enforces them, and if you're anything remotely like me it's that that does not work when we're so young sometimes. just for an example, i've been degraded to being yelled at,

 

"DROP, SQUAT, SPREAD YOUR TWAT! AND LEMME SEE PINK!"

 

that has not degraded me as far as my self-abuse has and my self-esteem by any means. you now see that there are dots that you can connect into nor away from

 

i went to court for sentencing… multiple years of dropping and squatting for male guards and more male visitors who knew me but never my name. i was ready to go back to it again today mostly because i would be able to get back on things like diluted anti-depressants, anti-anxieties, and, my auntie psychotics that did not ease pain like anything else i would learn apparently could in my brain. it's like saying you know somebody who committed suicide by overdose.

 

after reading the police report of all those names and places that sent me to the psych ward for a casual endlless nighttime of no meds, no sleep to be able to face today as it has been many other days. those names are of those who will be forgiven when i get a little further in my steps. where are you? 

 

so just for today all i can say is typing to myself is, thank god for not letting me still be them out there waiting for my old self to come back begging… the still suffering addict, the aggressor and the prey.

 

my 45 days ago of institutions, jail cells, and death are not worth the last word mentioned becoming my only future. i was, to my horror at the time, gladly resuscitated after six minutes more than twice of no pure bliss to come true.

 

all my multiple counts of charges, even breach of probation, were dropped today in court. i am off of house arrest, a free fucking citizen (but not to leave the country), and am legally able to visit those dark windowed houses at my own request to celebrate at any hour.

 

i think that maybe the smartest thing my mother ever taught was that life is unfair and nothing is easy.

 

so i haven't worked all the steps yet, barely even a few yet, but what matters most i find is that i'm working AT it real damn hard and, obviously, my charges were not "just dropped" for a lack of faith in any addict because i couldn't afford a lawyer.

 

no, it sure isn't paying my bills but it's paying for something far more worth material congregations of the past in my old apartment mailbox. special wrapped packages. therefore, the only battleaxe at the end of my road will only be the biggest sharpest blade i ever i want to see. me myself and my eye looking back at me, smiling, looking me in the exact same, but other the other eye.

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