April 14, 2024

Most often I write about being framed for crimes I didn't commit. Although some of it makes it through to my journal, most of it I shred and throw away as to avoid dragging anyone reading my journal back to my own vicious cycle. It would probably be most fun for everyone to check their gear and suit up for a deep dive into the magical waters of my dreamaginarium.

Most of my dreams are cut short for being awakened so often that there is very little to share. My daughter running toward me while sitting in the grass in my yard. Awoken. My older brothers first truck with vibrantly colored rear windows, glowing as if briefly lit from inside the cab. Awoken. Just brief moments where the runaway horses I have for a heart find freedom.

Looking at the letters I recently received gives me a good feeling. I have never received a single hate-mail letter. I would hope that people know by now that they were lied to when they watched the trial. The people that recognized it while the trial was happening impress me a lot. I was surprised at how much I missed that my brother had to explain afterward. I am surprised more attorneys haven't taken an interest in what has happened to pursue civil rights issues. I have never read about a case that would make a better vehicle to deliver legal argument.

​As it often gets, it is too loud for me and I am going to go press a pillow over my head in an effort to stifle the noise.