4/3/24
Wednesday
Motorcycle’s surgery is tomorrow. I got my radio today–yay! Except I can’t find NPR.
Ugh.
Oh well–music is better than no music.
10am
I talked to Gem, so that was nice. Her friend’s dog died. I told her about the Puppy Program here in prison.
I have to go push Ms. Grumpy Crabass to insulin in the rain now. It’s supposed to snow for three days now. I have no e-cigs and am a little miserable. I got some bloodwork this morning, from the only good vein left on my body. Good to know there is one, at least.
I dreamed last night about shooting up.
Ugh.
10:47am
I turned on the radio earlier and heard the old country song “Wild Angels.” Maybe that’s who’s looking out for me lately. I’ll take it. I prayed to God earlier today for the first time in a long time.
Yesterday somebody in Med Line asked me and Daisy if we were sisters because we were laughing so much. She’s so funny.
Burgundy is still being a dick. She reminds me of Sassypants sometimes. Same passive-aggressive (or just plain aggressive) crappy attitude if you don’t do what she thinks you should be doing. Like cleaning the floor. I am not about to get down on my hands and knees and this hard, shitty floor where I don’t fucking live and hurt myself by rubbing a sanitary pad around the floor.
Whatever.
And she called me a racist, so fuck her. I hope she leaves soon. I can’t wait until cigarettes Friday.
On the radio:
“My Daddy gave me a name
And then he walked away…
Father of mine…
Tell me where have you been
Father of mine
Tell me how do you sleep…
Now I’m a grown man
With a child of my own…
And he’ll never know
The pain I have known…
If You Lose, the Devil Gets Your Soul–a poem of song lyrics
Bloodshot eyes
Red blood, white snow
Made me lose my breath
The world is on fire
Cut me to the bone
Death, and other penalties
There ain’t no easy way out
I’ll pretend my ship’s not sinking
Shall we dance?
Who wants to fit in anyway?
Was it over?
Is it over now?
Hey–don’t write yourself off yet
Do your best
Live right now
A man and his will to survive
Blind faith
Amazing grace
Rising up
Gotta have high, high hopes
We’ll make a legacy
Always had a vision
Momma said, “Don’t give up”
We wanted everything
I saw the rising sun
Sometimes your heart’s pounding
Out of your chest, sometimes it’s
Just beating
You feel that fire
Your clear eyes ain’t even blinking
I’ll stand my ground
No I won’t back down
Must’ve been wild angels
I could swear I heard the sound of
Beating wings
1:40pm
I wrote Motorcycle and included my impromptu poem. When I talked to Gem this morning, she told me that Paul is complaining all over Facebook about how depressed he is. I still can’t believe he never apologized to me or contacted me at all.
Whatever.
4pm
I’ve heard both Dolly Parton and Whitney Houston sing “I Will Always Love You” today.
5pm
“Summer of ‘69” is on the radio. Yesterday this sometimes-funny CO, Monster, spoke this whole song like it was a story. It was really funny how matter-of-fact he was about it:
“Standing on your mother’s porch,
The way you held my hand,
I knew that it was now or never,
Those were the best days of my life…”
