Yet another notebook entry -- very recent

"Nobody can tell you how to live your life but you," that savvy nun once told me on the sly when I got dragged to the office again, a constant petitioner for mercy I long ceased to deserve, she thinking I would rethink the direction I was already steered in, the shadow of prison bars showing on my face, long before I ever saw the inside of a jail cell, God showing in her eyes with the flashes of lightning and judgment I did not reckon with, preferring to steer my life in which ever way I wanted with nothing written in stone, writing my life with a number 2 pencil not pen and ink, hoping that when I got to the pearly gates God had an eraser. "Nobody can tell you how to live your life," the nun said again just as the ruler cracked me across my knuckles.