We sat and drank with the sun on our shoulders and felt like free men.
We could have been tarring the roof of one of our own houses.
We were the lords of all creation.
But I tell you these walls are funny. First you hate them, then you get used to them, enough time passes…you get so you depend on them. That’s institutionalized.
Get busy living or get busy dying.
Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies.
I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope.
