i think about the people in prison--how some of them find solace within cold metal bars and isolation.

one might say that they conditioned themselves to feel that way, or that it's not a façade and their happiness is genuine.

however, prison is still prison. every convict has their way of dealing with their sentence, and each one came from the same place the others did--outside. they grow up to be different, matured individuals while serving time, and they fulfill certain roles to maintain harmony.

those without life sentence are eventually set free, and they find the experience enlightening and fulfilling, or tasteless and dull. either way, being set free after years in cold cells makes for a feeling of bliss, as if a heavy burden has been lifted.

i long for that feeling of bliss. i long for this burden to be lifted. i've yet to find whether this experience is fulfilling, but i'm anxious to know what it's like to be free. i try to fulfill my roles, and inevitably i also mature. i know we all came from the same place, but i've yet to know how to properly deal with the experience. i'm conditioning myself to be happy, although it's becoming apparent that that's a façade.

all i feel is cold and isolation, and i cannot find my solace.

i stop to realize then: if this life is a sentence, then i dread to think of what i was charged with.