I'm Free(er).

Yeah, it's been a month. I could have a million excuses, but I'll only use one:

Free. Er.

As in, Supervised Release is over with. As in, I stepped into a hearing last Monday, and came out with a ruling ending my coerced involvement with the federal government on Tuesday.

I'm still not free - none of us are. We're still the victims and the caged animals of a world demarcated by bastards that came way before us, and by those who currently hold either compliance or consent, or some combination of the two.

Now that I'm free: I don't regret a thing. I did nothing wrong. To those that got high-quality LSD from me: you're welcome. Glad to be of service. Won't do it again, because I don't have another 8 years of prison time and 14 months of supervised release time to spare. Sorry, other priorities, and being a foot soldier appeals just about as much as working the trenches in the legal field. Not my interest. I'd rather see about winning this damn drug war, and setting all of my people free.

So free. Er. And still I'm a slave to the job.

My other news: my stay here in NYC is over. I'm headed to San Francisco, to become a blood-sucking bottom feeder... er... lawyer. Well, not a practicing attorney, mind you, but the law degree should prove endlessly helpful in designing policy to put an end to the madness, to increase the overall freedom of the people, and to reign in some of this damn tyranny being sold as a good idea.

Or at least that's what my high horse wants. My sober horse just wants to make sure I do something to help free some more drug war prisoners.

So what does this sensation feel like? Can't really describe it, because none of it feels very real.

Anyways, this is my lackluster apology to my faithful 5, and my new 1 blog reader: I'm back. Sorry about the delays. But as a free(er) man(boy), I should prove to have some more interesting adventures on the way, at least until law school starts...

Especially when you consider that I'm about to pack up the parent's loaner car (since I never want to own an internal combustion engine again), and go across the country in 4 days and 7 breweries, with 1 brother, 1 cousin, 1 convict, 1 sweetheart, and 1 partner n' wife inbetween me and my final destination (not like the movie, damnit!).