So that’s me. Free at long last. Back in mainstream society where I belong. Not stuck on a wing doing porridge for Her Majesty. Those days are gone. Been there, done that. Never again.

I was going to stop writing these daily memoirs once I left prison, but I’ve had a pure mental day and need to tell somebody about it. I actually only started writing to pass the time, six years to be exact, and to get me through my sentence. I mean, what’s life without one little enjoyment? I know guys in the jail who would kill themselves every day if they could. Not me though. I put my darkest thoughts on paper. Got me through. Now here I am. Free. Although, these are private notes so if you’re reading them it means I’ve either recklessly misplaced them like government documents on the train, I’m somehow back in prison, or worse still, I’m dead. So why am I still writing if nobody is going to read this? Force of habit I guess. Routine. Well that and the fact I am now officially a loner. A one man band. Me against the world. Plus I need at least one person to talk to. Like they say, if you can’t talk to yourself who can you talk to? Anyway I have to do it. For my own sanity. At least that’s what they told me during therapy sessions. Rehabilitation classes. Not that I needed them. After all, how do you rehabilitate an innocent man?

Back to my day anyway. Like I said it was pure mental. I barely got any sleep at all last night. Same as any other night really. Only last night my brain was working in overdrive, so I started the day mentally exhausted as well as physically tired. Never a good combination. Even the shit prison coffee that would rejuvenate a tranquilized elephant had little effect. I was literally running on empty. I suppose a sleepless night will do that to you. The worst part is it wasn’t for not trying. I just spent the entire night tossing and turning, picturing all these different scenarios about life...