PRISONER EXPRESS

In the past, my free world access was, of course, less limited. I had many open opportunities and choices were innumerable. I could hop in a bus and go the distance I chose and could afford. The telephone in the living room was in close proximity to the TV's remote, and either was as common to use as this pen I now write with.

Simplicity was taken for boredom mostly. "I have a key to a door." So what? "I have the choice to walk to the store." And? To every plain and common privilege you might have mentioned, I would've expressed some apathy.

As I write I sit at a desk of metal, painted plainly, while in the corner of my mind is the bizarre novelty of a nice, varnished desk. It, being completely inaccessible to me is instantly illuminated like a shrine in my mind. There it is, in all of its oak-wooded glory afloat in my wishful thinking along with the remote, house keys, phone, porcelain cups, carpet, doorknobs, ad infinitum, ad nauseum...

So what was once disregarded seems to extol itself out of my reach. I know that it is absurd and the only praise of an object possible to be given is within myself. This is why I choose not to give in to my mind's process of turning simple things inaccessible, into shrines to be worshipped into depression.

Now I'm learning to be appreciative of simplicity and not apathetic like before. I can challenge my impulse to give in to laziness with every crevice of the pots I wash daily at my kitchen job.

I can challenge the impulse to perpetuate childish insults by stifling my pride and ego, controlling the situation, and being a mature adult in every aspect of social interactions from dayroom to visitation.

In all of those inner challenges I can simply derive pleasure and satisfaction from my self-responsibility and integrity. I believe the simplest pleasures begin within and sometimes require major change, adamant determination, and serious introspection.