So here I am, sipping a cup of orange Pekoe tea on a totally 80's weekend. I'm thinking perfection?

- My bunk here in disciplinary confinement is deep within a facility that has been erroneously title a "Correctional Institution". It is very hard and slightly uncomfortable but somehow I manage to like this. Gloria Estefan is screaming "Let the music play?"

My roommate has been severely institutionalized and has a strange tendency to mumble things to himself. When I ask him if he's talking to me he says he is not. I know this but I ask him anyway.

We've bonded slightly but I suspect that this is because we are in the same room together permanently every day and are forced to awkwardly defecate in each other's presence. He too is enjoying this totally 80's weekend.

At moments like this I like to look back at the past events of my life in an attempt to figure out the meaning of my existence and I always come to the conclusion that there isn't any meaning. I realize that life isn't a journey towards some final destination or ultimate purpose. The destination is the journey itself; just a succession of moments that add up to the present moment. Duran Duran is singing "Her name is Rio?"

- There is a small mouse that frequents my cell and when I call him over to try and befriend him he looks at me as if to say, "As if!" He gets around more than the rest of us and I suspect he is very chic because of his tendency to be fashionably late and very nonchalant.

- The Picture on my prison I.D. tag is horrible. My eyes are puffy. This is the result of way too much coffee and not enough sleep the night before it was taken. I normally do not live like that and take great pride in my personal appearance as well as my overall health. I work very hard to keep both at what I feel is an acceptable standard. On the radio, Cyndi Lauper is saying "Girls just wanna have fun?"

- As of this past January I turned 26 years old. I've been in prison since the age of 22 and haven't had sex since then nor will I until my theoretical release date in December 2007. I prefer thin athletic women with long legs, a healthy independent streak, and a robust sexual appetite. On the street I was very promiscuous and frequently dated a number of women that were dangerously aware of their own sex appeal, most of which possessed the ability to digest large quantities of ecstasy and drink designer bottled water because they claimed tap water contains "chemicals".

Due to an acute feeling of loneliness I've had lately I now regret not having invested more time in some sort of long-term or otherwise "meaningful" relationship. There was one girl I could've possibly had an exclusive relationship with. She enjoyed listening to The Cranberries and The Smiths, and her overall femininity was very sexy, but here style was just so 90's, and if would've just?wait a minute?who cares?

- The radio is playing "Devil Inside" by INXS. I've just finished my cup of Orange Pekoe Tea and have an intense need to urinate. My roommate mumble something and just finished asking him if he was talking to me. Predictably, he claims he was not. The introspection was a total failure.