Even A Second Of Freedom Is Worth

Be Patient And Wait. Your Mud Will Settle. Your Water Will Be Clear.

I Try To Make The Voice In My Head Come Out Onto The Page. I Try To Make It Much More Conversational Than Other Writing. I Speak Everything, So If Something Sounds Right I Write It. It's More About Sound And The Rhythm Of Speech Than Written Language.

This Moment And This Chance, They Are The Same, And They Are Mine If I Choose Them,and I Do. I Want Them. Now And As Long As I Can Have Them They Are Both Precious And Fleeting And Gone In The Blink Of An Eye, Don't Waste Them. A Moment And An Opportunity And A Life, All In The Unseen Tick Of A Clock Holding Me Nowhere. My Heart Is Beating. The Walls Are Pale And Quiet. I Am Surviving.

I Stand, Walk Over To Him, Sit Down On His Bed, Put My Arms Around Him, Hug Him. He Hugs Me Back Strong And I Can Feel The Shame Coming Through His Arms. I Am A Criminal And He Is A Judge And I Am White And He Is Black, But At This Moment None Of That Matters. He Is A Man Who Needs A Friends And I Can Be His Friend.

He Tells Me I Look As If I Could Use A Hugand I Laugh At Him And He Ignores Me And Steps Forward And Puts His Arms Around Me And Hugs Me. I Warm At The Simple Pleasure Of Human Contact And For The First Time In A Long Time I Actually Feel Good." (james Frey, Pg.38)