It is impossibly hot, and this place is not air-conditioned. It is the only explanation I have for my bad mood, besides the fact that I am in prison, of course. That and, as usual, the day after a three-day weekend, when you most hunger for mail (there is no delivery on Saturday) also seems to be the day of the least mail. I did get a note from Sandra along with information on the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. If I apply, I don’t know whether to choose poetry or fiction. I think I like the idea of applying to UNM@ Albuquerque better, but maybe I’m just in a mood. Maybe I’m just afraid of being in an unfamiliar, isolated environment again, and I am comforted by the prospect of being near my sister in Albuquerque.
I really don’t want to be here today. And I was through with work at 11:30, and have been able to listen to NPR and read “The Valley of the Horses” and nap much of the afternoon. This is the way it’s going to look pretty much for the duration.
But more than at any moment, since my incarceration, I really feel like getting high. Booze, pot, crystal meth, it doesn’t matter.
But I’m not going to get high. I’m writing this instead and putting it in the mail and taking a nice cooling shower and maybe calling my sister.
MCO 2004
Recent Comments