Artistic endeavors, lackadaisical writings, instrumentation experimentation, videogame triumphs, and panoramic exploration. All lovingly displayed between, on top of, or alongside of honey and toast. My favorite breakfast. With jasmine tea. And fragmented sentences. Naturally.
This case was a goddamn travesty of every facet of our criminal justice and judicial system. Even though it is absolutely heartbreaking to me that these men lost 18 years of their lives (seriously for 30 seconds, put yourself in solitary confinement for 18 years. Think about every experience you would’ve missed out on. Every friendship, every relationship, every city’s unique sounds, the distinct smell of honeysuckles, the night at that adorable restaurant tucked away in Soho, the night at the bonfire in the middle of an abandoned field, the night on the beach you got drunk on Boone’s Farm, a large frosted glass of Tucher with a fresh orange slice, the first time you saw Saves the Day at the Troc, your college writing Professor’s accolades for your first short story, gaining those 5 or 10 pounds because you live right next door to the best bakery in the world, tweaking your resume to get that job you were just shy of being qualified for, going from entry-level at Pep Boys to a certified BMW mechanic, growing up from being a teenager and buying your first house and landing a real job and getting divorced and then starting anew. Or falling in love with your high school sweetheart wife or husband all over again. Imagine if someone removed every memory you’ve ever had in the past 18 years of your life and replaced it with 4 gray walls and the same shitty processed food, and prison guards as your acquaintances.), Yay for FINALLY freeing the West Memphis Three!
