300 Letters - 83. Letter 82 (Who the fuck is Lemar?)

Letter 82

26 April 2016

Dear C,

I woke up this morning and started to stare at my cell's door thinking that you were just about to walk in...! I don't know why. I know I dreamt of something last night, but I cannot remember what it was. The feeling was so intense though.

I went to the gym this morning and it was insane. We did an hour on the bikes. It was good but crazy. Funny thing - this Jamaican guy called Jermaine sat next to my bike and he couldn't catch up with me.It was quite funny - I remember him making comments that we wouldn't last long here and look who's talking now. I mean, don't get me wrong - spinning classes are extremely hard, but it was funny to see this guy (who plays gangsta style all the time) losing to someone like me. He said people here are weak. Well, not as weak as he was today. Bless him.

At 11.30 am I went for a jog before lunch. I run on my own and did 2km. Not bad. I find no excuses anymore not to exercise. Even though it was freezing cold today and it rained - I still jogged.

Tomorrow I have a weight session with a guy called James at the gym - he is a great guy to train with. And he trains me hard.There was a buzz in the prison today as apparently there is a new guy here called Michael who is a brother of some famous British singer Lemar. I have no idea who Lemar is, so not that famous after all. Maybe if I heard some of his songs I would recognize him. Anyway, this guy Michael is not on my wing and I think that's a good thing. No need for additional drama here.

As I am writing this letter to you I am also waiting for my black paint to dry. John brought me some leftover acrylic board from art class and I decided to utilize it now. I painted it black and I might splash some colours on it later - I don't know yet. At this moment I am waiting for the third layer of black paint to dry - I wanted it to be spread even with no breakups in the paint. I think I might call this piece "Love Sees No Colour". Just came to my head as I looked at the black paint.

Spoke to my mum today and she's doing just fine. I asked her if she spoke to Lisa, but she didn't. I wonder if Lisa would ever come to visit me here. She promised so many times that she would never leave me in my hour of need but I guess she is that kind of a person who talks a lot of bullshit but when it comes to it she fucks off. Oh well.

Alright, let me get back to my painting now, seems like the paint is finally dry.

Look after yourself C.

Forever yours,

Sebastian