"a casket with the ability to nag"
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february 24th Continual LOUD MOUTHED harassment at �work� in the gym. The chorus gets louder. Pounding headache. Last Sunday in Jerusalem a note was found in a bottle. The bottle had been hidden in the walls of a barracks used by French troops in 1926. The NOTE said: �these buildings have been made by the soliders of the French army�let the one who will find this document keep it as a souvenir.� I don�t know if I�m hungry or nervous. I must be filled with conflict along with bubblin, gurglin diarrhea. I am les miserable of late. Ready in ENTIRETY to hop off les tier. Instead we have a blanket over the head, like a head in the sand, you know, like a �autruche�. So disgusted with it ALL.How am I to expect it to be any better when I get out? This is really something YOU need to think about. As for me, I turn a stressful shade of PALE that is not UNKNOWN in these parts. I hate it HERE, and I hate it OUT THERE. I am just about DONE. Know it�learn it. Apparently this also signals viscerally to �dig in it�; and I know you ARE, you cheap wretches. �Le secret est divulge��I am decomposed to the core. Despite (�malgre�) that handicap I go ONWARDS looking sour and sullen because I am nervous and tired. When hopelessness finds a voice. And just at this time some jackass in the nurse�s office has apparently shouted, �capital idea�, about the concept of charging me for the cheap ass do-nothing anti depressant they put me on 14 months ago with NO follow up. So on Monday night (when I ordered commissary) I noticed that I�m not MAKING money in this work program, I am losing it. And when the guard looked it up�sure enough�viola�I am suddenly and without warning being charged for ZOLOFT. So I wrote a kite to the nurse and have refused to go to med rounds since then. This is a bad situation, and I thought some of you would like to chuckle over it. There will never again be a NATURAL telephone call about �let�s go to the movies��not in my life. Nopey, nope. My �chit� was green this morning, and I�m only swimming, not drinking. Many years ago in a different period when I lived in San Francisco I had someone take a photo of me in an alley behind le Civic Center Hotel. My photographer was STUNNED when I pulled my pants down and plopped on the ground to pose as unconcious. I need a casket with the ability to NAG. Perhaps Beanie can come with me. current | 1999 | 1998 | colfax diaries |