The Ides of March...

So I'm sitting on the toilet in my jail cell at 3 a.m. with 50 million other jail-mates who are all snoring and-in between naming my shit "Conner" and apologizing to it for feeding it to the demon of the infernal pit otherwise known as the jail-cell toilet, I realize that it's March again. And the wind is blowing fierce outside on this Wed. night, and I've had a bad day and looking at 3 months of more of the same--not because I shot anyone or stole anything or had any drugs on me or even prostituted myself--but because I was upset at being treated like something foreign...like someone I didn't know...like something no one knew... And it's hard to "play the game" when emotions are raw and you're tired of the life you've been given--or the cards you've been dealt by mother nature--or whatever it is that has made your existence a living hell for the past 20 years--so you get defensive...and no one understands what you're so angry about--and they get defensive--and you realize they REALLY DON'T understand you...and the windy dust-cloud hovering over the city that evening as you sit in the back of a van driven by two men in uniform who play their heavy metal music and make small talk as you look out at the setting sun in the west covered by clouds and dust--tears welling up in your eyes because all you really want is to be with "Barry" and live on the beach in a really cool place...you know, like the ones they show on HGTV after they've been re-modeled--or made over...and he loves you so much...and knows you so well...like your family...or the family you once knew...or once knew you... and you want him to be that family for you...you want him to save you from this hell...and take you away to that castle on the beach...to see you as a smart, loving, beautiful woman with talent and ABILITY...not someone to make fun of in front of an otherwise classy historic bar in a small Northern Calif. town that no ones ever heard of but that meant the world to you for a few hours on a warm Spring night a million years ago.... And it seems like its so very far away...and so are you. So far from the person you once were...and the dreams of youth. And you realize that it's time to be strong because for the next few hours that will feel like an eternity, nothing and noone will be familiar....and you will feel your gut wrenching as you realize you will be put through a proverbial armegeddon as your soul is being ripped apart by demons disguised as jail-mates and prison guards. And you wonder if this really is "as good as it gets..." A life-time of anonymity and obscurity ending in lonely resignation without loved ones or posterity to miss you or witness the beauty and the good in your life that others failed to notice. Because no matter what success you ever may aspire to--no matter how many "toys" you accumulate before you leave this Earth, they don't come close to having someone to hold at the end of the day--or the smile from a child--your child--as you pick them up from pre-school or soccer practice or whatever. Or even the lofty dream of a pew bench filled with an eternal family who look kinda like you and that tall, dark-haired, strong, sexy, C&R-clad model look-a-like on the stand looking out over his congregation--and giving you that look meant only for you--in code--hinting of things to come later....after everyones gone and the kids are asleep and its just the two of you.....and how the subtlety of it all makes him just that more attractive to you. And then the wind howls even louder outside as your dream blows away with the dust-cloud hovering over the city--and you're left alone once again with your insecurities in this god-forsaken cell filled with strangers and the echoes of your deepest fears. And you glance at the clock--and it reads Three A.M...... Because this is March. And there are no promises. There are no guarantees. This is your war to fight...alone. To rage against. To hopefully win at some future day.....when there will be rainbows and pots of gold waiting in the form of successes and victories and continuity and belonging....but for now, the Ides of March are calling.....and your standing in a war zone.....