MICAH AND THE MISSIONARIES

The following is taken from Micahs journal. The date is January 17,2009

"Sometimes, still, it stuns me, thinking about the fact that the world continues to turn, in spite of my own life circling monotony street in the car of incarceration, it turns and turns, as I write this on Saturday night at five minutes to ten, this I know - for the metal box speaker in the middle of my cieling just informed me - that I have 5 minutes till these steel doors slam closed, the lights dim (never going completely dark). And I'm left in an even smaller room with two men I can never esccape from. Picture a wrecked marriage (without the sexual experience of course). One in which one or both spouses feel negatively about each other at LEAST 60% of the time, yet cannot ever separate. They're trapped in a room with each other, but are almost forced to get along. Because in this particular case no one knows just what will happen if I say the wrong thing, if I give the wrong look, ah, but here I am drifted so far away from my original topic. So back to the begining: As I sit here, doors now closed, the world goes on and on. Everybody I know or don't is doing exactly what they do. Their lives progress, they're deciding where this life will take them, they're stressing, they're partying, they're happy, sad, nice, mean! It's hard to believe everyone hasn't forgot about me, all my friends who are just down the street. Yet I know there are those that miss me. Hopefully? Ha, ha. I'll never know for sure, but I can almost guarantee one thing! At 10:00 on this Saturday night. Micah Neumann, the person, the thought, the memory drifting in that turning world in any turning mind, is lost."