"tick, tick, tick"
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february 5th-7th John Flach's death was the talk of the jail on Friday and Saturday, but by Sunday it was forgptten. Someone who had been with Flach recently in the SMAN (special managment) pod said Flach had expressed a lot of worries about getting out of jail next month ...nowwhere to go, that sort of thing. If I could only keep a HOT PLATE in here I'd be right at home. My San Francisco "apartment" had no cooking appliances. Every day after a hard, ridiculous, and humiliating session of BIKE MESSENGERING for San Francisco's "SPECIAL T DELIVERY", I'd buy a tall six pack of Budweiser and a cheap packet of nuts. I'd sit bolt upright on a couch I'd forlornly dragged 10 blocks from the mission district. I was frozen in front of the tv, the phone didn't ring, work was a further isolating nowhere experience. One MUST break out of such a situation. If and when I'd bothered to thrust my head out the window back then, passersby on Market Street would view me in the ONLY window on that side of a four story building. This portal to a world I was avoiding sat square between 2 huge billboards, sometimes promoting beer and cigs. I see in chat scripts the angry -angry "Looloo" thinks I "should be
doing more time." But I contend that I was doing PLENTY of it THEN.
It was as if a virus was radiating from me that whole miserable year.
The wheels on my bike went round and round, and the rain never stopped.
"Something had to happen," and ToppCat, let me tell you the condition dictated
that that SOMETHING could not be a simple improvement. THIS
frozen carcass could not withstand the scrutiny on an attempt at the sorts
of improvements this world highlights. Don't you see "boosparks"
if we are speaking about more meaninglful employment for instance,
why the job-doler-outer could easily have been a Ginja/Goethe who would
have CRINGED or cased me to do so. Nopey, nope, nope, you have
got to UNDERSTAND that we are speaking PLAINLY of THAT SORT OF AVENUE
being CLOSED. And so, LizzieB, I called le Amtrack.
Now, in recent news let us shuffle 'thru the notes under my mattress. Perhaps a few chatters (www. bouldernews .com) will remember that there was a "fracas" in this jail in November while I was "on tour," at other local lockups. Well it is now apparent that JOSH CAMPBELL who was wainting to go to prison for his part in the "fracas" got in another fracas in the pod. Another example of an inmates time just extending endlessly onward. Les web masters have been hearing sound bytes from me over the phone without the expense of accepting the OUTRAGEOUS prices of a collect call. I simply say, "Someone died in SMAN," for example during the sound byte portion where I'm supposed to be giving my name. And Les Web masters attempt to shriek over top of the recording to describe to me anything new. In this way I am aware that they are doing something on the radio in Albany again this weekend, possibly with Patsy Ramseys sister on the show. I do have to wonder what they say at the Boulder District attys. office when they mull over the concept of an inmate friend of mine getting out to establish a web site, AND, to constantly speak with les sister Ramsey on the phone in private and in public. This situation could boggle even more than a dullards mind so what must Monsieur Hunter be thinking? Fridays movie: SOMETHING ABOUT MARY. SAT'S: DEEP IMPACT. IN saturdays paper I couldn't help but notice the secret hand of LOU
SMIT (don't you think so Mrs. B?) attempting to SCULPT the recent teddy
Bear insanity into something beneficial for the Ramseys. Of
course it was anon-sourced in Monsieur Brennan's article but I think we
get the picture Do not think that it doesn't disgust
me even if at this late juncture I prefer to pretend! to stare out my OLD
window towards the Bay, and fabulous Oakland. How many days
have I flopped the paper down in this jail with a bad Ramsey taste in my
mouth? There is a clownishly debilitating misuse of the justice system going on. That is
why anyone
"Ecrasement," means " Crushing defeat." Perhaps I should inquire
of le concierge the translation of "Self-fulfilling prophesy."
Le vicious mucus is toned down, one good blob of a cough in the/ morning, and my energy level is rising. I am finding myself on the other side of my desperate move. I am on the side of the jail that faces the street. The howling wind, le resistance... I am landing this ship. current | 1999 | 1998 | colfax diaries |