21

So I turned 21.

Not that it bothers me that much, or was I that excited or anything..

But it did get me thinking.

I've never known my mother, so I can't help but wonder if she makes an attempt to remember me, or if she remembered it was my birthday.

I've never met my three sisters. I don't know anything about them at all. Not their names or ages or anything. So I wonder how many times over I am an aunt, and how many nieces or nephews I have. I wonder too, if my sisters remember me, and they remembered my birthday. I wonder sometimes whether any of my nieces or nephews are aware of my existance, and if so, what do they know?

Michael

It's a weird thing death.

It's more than just the absense of someone. It's like the absense of a routine.

I never met Michael, but that doesn't mean he was less than a friend.

He was a good friend, he was someone I could confide in, and he would usually tell me how much of a fool I am being.

It's a weird feeling to know your friend is dead. To mourn for them, to feel sad and cry sometimes. But at the same time, it's someone you have never met. But they were still a friend.

It's weird because the only connection that shows they are gone, is the absense of letters.

It's a shit feeling to know that the hand or typist that wrote all the letters you've kept is no longer there. It's surreal.

I've got friends in prison, and lord knows that my thoughts are constantly on them, wondering how they are doing, whether they are feeling ok. I've not heard from Paul in a while, and he usually writes back stupidly quick. I worry that something has happened to him, but I have no way of finding out. How can you worry about someone you've never met?? It sounds and feels bizarre, but either way I have a bond with him. Granted, Polunsky is probably on lockdown, it generally seems to always be, so I hope that's the reason.

I walk around with a permanent reminder of Michael on my wrist. He's someone who should never be forgotten. I don't wear it as a way for me to avoid forgetting him, I wear it with pride. The pride I have for an awesome but late friend.

I get sad not just for him, but for the whole fucked up system.

It's such a weird thought death. I was lying in bed the other day, and the idea of death and the idea of one day me being dead one day fully hit me. It was such an odd but sad feeling to comprehend. One day I will die. I've said these words countless times to myself, but they've only actually propagated through once. Right now, as I write this, I can't feel what I felt that day, cos it was such a fleeting moment.

For someone like Michael, watching that day approach, just some day on anyone else's calender, fuck knows frankly. Fuck knows.

Waking up, KNOWING there is no tomorrow. Fuck knows.