Why Me??

Being an innocent man held captive on death row, falsely convicted and forced to exist like an unwanted, caged animal in a very small, inhumane box which the politicians call "a comfortable cell", seems to be the cause of the most intense and bizarre, but still very clear, concise, and totally unforgettable dreams!

Because of the basic, petty neglect and the inhumanity that is so abundant in the "intensive management unit", located in one of our nation's most punitive of prisions, dangerous of dungeons and its most cunningly conceived concentration camps based on the cruelest of human concepts, our deep sub-conscience induces us to dream deeply. I think that the sub-conscience is trying to make up somehow for all of the degrading conditions, the abusive attitudes of prison personal and the total absence of any positive external or internal stimuli that I am forced to endure and live with every single day after day after day.

In one of the dreams that I recently experienced, I was climbing an incredibly high and hugely foreboding mountain. The furious, freezing wind was relentlessly pounding my body as I arduously climbed higher and higher and still higher. Hand over hand I struggled through the blowing, sight blinding snow, over the bitter, biting sheets of ice and up slippery, sheer rock faces in my desperate attempt to reach the peak of this mountain.

I had to reach the top of that particular mountain at that particular time because it was rumored that an old, incredible, wise man; who lived at the very summit of the mountain, was quite ill and was expected to die soon. If I could reach the top of this mountain; the wise, old man might be able to tell me why I had been falsely convicted and sentenced to die for crimes that I did not commit. I had to find out why my wife has been so viscously attacked and senselessly killed and taken from me. Why had I been forced to not only endure the pain of her loss, but then have our children be denied to me while they were falsely told that their father was responsible for their mother's death and finally why my own government wanted to take my very life in some sort of an unwarranted, revenge murder by proxy scheme?

In my dream, the climb became an incredible struggle. The temperature was absolutely freezing as the thick, white, snow and the bitter, blinding ice flew all around me. But slowly, steadily, and surely I struggled on, oozing sweat freezing to my clothes while mentally fighting the pain caused by the angry cold. As I struggled on mightily, I climbed higher and higher until I finally reached the very top of the steep mount, where indeed, there sat the venerable, old, wise man that I so desperately sought!

As I sat down on the cold, hard, granite rock opposite of the seated wise man, I felt the last of my strength drain out of me into the mountain top itself and I had an eerie feeling of almost being at peace.

A surge of both relief and foreboding came upon me. My mouth was so dry that I could hardly speak. So I reached for my wine bota bag that I had filled with a wonderfully delicious Merlot in anticipation of my long and difficult climb. I drank my fill and then I saw that the diminutive but impressive old man was motioning to me, that he too wanted a drink of my fine elixir.

As I handed him the wine bag and watched him drink, I was becoming absolutely giddy with expectation and excitement at the very thought of finally learning the answers to my painful questions and hopefully gaining some insights as to how the terribly false lies that were being told could be rectified and finally put to right!

My internal excitement was actually causing my plummeted temperature to rise in expectation of the long awaited, life saving information that was surely to come! The wise, old man finally finished his drink and with a satisfied look on his face he handed me back the nearly empty wine bag. He smiled, sighed and looked down at me saying, "what a great wine"! Then he died.