[originally posted 6 June 2007 on MySpace]

I should be celebrating freedom today.  After all, it is the third anniversary of my release from the belly of Sheol and the one year anniversary of my release from parole.  I've always been known as an optimist, a perseverer (even if that's not a word), an encourager and an inspirer.  In prison, despite not really believing in Christmas, I sent out nearly 200 cards each year.  I recorded books on tape for the blind, put in over 30,000 community service hours, was a Laubach literacy tutor, library reference clerk, Horizon Interfaith program aide, chapel keyboardist, choir director, Red Cross volunteer....  I produced 12 moderately successful musicals: writing scripts, singing, acting, composing original songs and scores, designing costumes, and serving as music director.  I completed every imaginable self-help program and created some of my own.  I taught courses in meditation, New Testament Greek, Biblical Hebrew, music theory, conflict resolution, yoga and more to my fellow inmates.  I helped GED students with their math, Hispanic friends with learning English, and non-Hispanic friends with learning Spanish.  I also played in several bands: gospel, rock, country, blues, jazz and showtunes.  Polite, compassionate and a peacemaker, I was respected and even liked by the bookworms, the jocks, the black Muslims, the Aryan supremacists, the Wiccans, the former doctors and lawyers, and even the prison staff.  Almost all the department heads begged me to work for them.

Now the prison welcomes me back with open arms.  For the past year I've driven two hours each way to volunteer as an Outside Brother for the Horizon program, where Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Native American and Wiccan residents learn more about their faiths and getting along with each other.  Sunday, I attended the ten-month program's graduation ceremony in the prison courtyard.  Success, achievement...again I was honored and appreciated.  Inmates and staff alike are so very proud of me.  And I couldn't wait to get the hell out of there - out of the world where, ironically, I'd been freer than I've ever been before or since.  So it seems, anyway.

What the hell?  Why am I cursing in my blog?  Where is my optimism, my sense of hope, my faith in justice?  Maybe I just didn't get enough sleep last night.  Maybe I'm mad because this week I have the annual privilege of re-registering at the local Sheriff's office, as though I'm some horrible person everyone needs to fear.  I'm just a quiet guy in many ways.  I love peace and random acts of kindness.  I ecshew violence of any sort, preferring instead to create and appreciate poetry, art, music, beauty, laughter, and sacredness.  I can't even fish with my brother because I don't like the idea of hurting the creatures with those little hooks.  So why am I feeling hopeless - by turns angry, depressed, and unhappy?  Maybe its because MySpace deleted my normal profile recently, making my family photos, videos, lists of favorite books and musical acts, and my primary network of friends vanish into thin air.  Maybe it's because I have three college degrees and can't get a job using my best skills because most employers are unwilling to take a chance on someone with my "baggage."  I don't know.  I was trusted, loved, and the world was my oyster in prison.  But no more....  I don't even know why I'm writing all this, when this secondary profile can be deleted as arbitrarily as the first one was.  Perhaps I just need to vent.  My family and a few select friends believe in me no matter what.  So do the prison staff.  Why?  Because they know me.  Maybe that's part of why this silly MySpace business is so important to me.  I think that if you know me, then there is hope again.  And it's easier to deal with rejection online than in person.

Anyway...I never did get to my point, whatever it was.  I suppose I'll save it for a future blog entry.  Thanks for listening.  I feel better than I did when I started.