Caught in the Matrix

Either she's the one or I'm caught in "The Matrix." ---Jay Z

Hmmm...today? Today, I have been caught in the matrix. This isn't a Murphy's Law kind of day...it's so much more and so much less than that. Where to begin...

First, let me say that I had a particularly weird dream this morning. Of course I can't remember what it was about. I needed to write it down as soon as I got up. But, strangely enough, I didn't want to get out of bed this morning. It was so hard to get moving. Once I did though, it wasn't too bad. So, I was about fifteen minutes late to a meeting. The meeting wasn't horribly important, but I'm usually not late to meetings. There was a time I ran on CPTime or whatever the derogatory, internally oppressive terminology you use for being late, but I usually try to be on time and have experienced success with that venture.

Let me back up. Today is the day I go the prison. I am a part of a creative writing program that services men who have been accused of Class-A felonies. These men have been charged with armed criminal action, rape, murder...I think that covers it. Oh, and serious drug possessions usually with a firearm--intent to distribute. So, I love this class. Of course, to hold true to all of the stereotypes, all of the men are black. (Sidenote: please don't take my derision for truth or lack of concern and/or caring, I'm just drained) And, of course, one of them decides to try to holla today. Damn. There goes my desire to float under the radar. Now, I know that I am not fine. I'm no Halle Berry or Iman or Janet Jackson. I do, however, know that I am attractive. I am intelligent. I have decidedly high morals and an ethical orientation. This, I assume, is a hell of a combination--especially when coupled with sexual deprivation for months on end. I feel for this guy, I really do. I like him. He's funny. He's a decent writer. He's caring and concerned for me when we are in the writing workshop. He is also locked up for a dangerous crime. He's also on the inside and I'm on the outside. I cannot date myself nor do I wish to. Past that, I don't want to tell the black man that has probably heard no all his life and is looking for someone to trust. As he wrote, "I feel safe and I feel I can trust you with my feelings." Who am I to pervert that trust? Who am I to make him question my motives and his judgement? Damn, but this is hard. I don't know how to respectfully decline the offer to write him and let him know I mean it.

So that's one of the incidents. What's next you ask? A "friend" acts like he has lost his damn mind. He called me acting a fool. He knows better. He should know better, anyway. He was acting as though what we have is strictly business. We don't have a business relationship. So I had to set him straight. You can't talk to me any kind of way and get away with it. But that's set off a whole set of dominos in my head. Some of which I will post about later...maybe later on today/this morning. Anyway...I'm thinking what about me has changed that has made me actively reject bullshit. There used to be time when I would passive-aggressively accept whatever a man dealt my way. What's changed? Why did it click today? Will it always click? Will this inability to accept bullshit prevent me from finding love again? I don't know what to expect from myself anymore. As scary as it is, it is also very exhilarating. I'm still not excited about letting old boy down, but I can't let anyone else treat me like they have no damn sense.