Tired of Being Tired
Do you know how the “bucket of crabs” saying goes? Imagine you’re a crab trapped in a bucket of full of crabs, and you’re the only crab trying to get out. That’s how my life feels in prison — I’m tired.
Every morning when I wake up, I am disgusted with my current circumstances. The thought itself of being incarcerated is like a prison within a prison. The majority’s mentality is not free, but more so depressing. Vibes of negativity lingers in the dusty, stuffy air because the stagnant minds of my peers are filled with counterproductive thoughts, in other words, distorted thinking. Positivity has no place inside this dark environment, it rarely comes around like a leap year or a distant cousin. I’m tired.
Phrases of humor such as, “How are you doing?” or “I love you” is considered odd, sometimes weak; whereas what would usually be normal is a form of abnormality. If perhaps either of those phrases are expressed, nine times out of ten it’s not merely genuine. When I walk around others, I am surrounded by hate, as I often hear conversations with hateful comments. When I peacefully approach and ask to use one of the institution-owned phones, I am routinely met with scrunched eyebrows and offensive grits. Am I not supposed to call and talk to my friends and family?!
Given my strong characteristics and knowledge, I am confident that I can be a great leader. I aspire to run for a public office seat one day as I would love to be a politician. However, I cannot talk politics with sex predators and I’ll never get support from fellow prisoners who are insecure and discouraged by their own past or criminal history. I’m tired.
As I slide between a possible fight, “you ain’t got nothing to do with that, La,” is what I’m used to hearing. I am in the way, frowned upon, for violence is the familiar solution and entertainment. Seriously?!
Having had found a passion and purpose, yet I’m unable to share my ideas because my neighbors are lost with an effortless sense of direction. How boring! The fact that I am no longer the same person I was when I first came in, I am not intrigued by ignorance; therefore, I practice anti-socialism because I don’t have ambitions of being a rapper, gang leader, or the next el Chapo. I’m tired.
Because there’s country, pop, alternative rock, and gospel music, which isn’t derogatory, on my tablet, I am weird. What?! After deep soul searching, healing, and working with God on improving myself, overtime I developed respect for authority. But my peers have an irrational F the police attitude, in which I never get a legitimate reason as to why they feel that way against law enforcement. I’m tired.
I want to be a great children’s author and accomplish great things; however, my reach is sadly limited because I am incarcerated. What anxiety! Not being at liberty to relieve my anxiousness can be stressful at times. I want to live life to the best of my new found ability! Please, God, hear my most sincerest prayers. I have to get home soon because I am tired of being tired!