"under 10 weeks"
|
may 6th
I'm gonna put big signs on my door which say.... "This is as close as
I get to a cabin en la forete, so back off." This is no time to be passing
a tray of pate de foie gras, Although I could have made a paste out of
plenty of fat livers. Could have served em at a secret party.
I don't want to fight for a chair in the front row. I suffer for my
failure to grab and hog.
Yesterday all classes and work programs were canceled. They conducted
a fire drill at 8:00 AM. Other drills all throughout the day. They are
preparing for the Y2K "disaster" wherein we show the nature of our times
because if the lites go out, it's suspected everyone will slash and hack.
The word "baudruche" means "WINDBAG." Should I write it backwards and
hold it up en front la mirror? Look, I'm a head on a shelf. "Il tombre
de fatigue - ready to drop with fatigue." I recognized before I left San
Francisco that THIS is where I was going. (More or less.) Wait for me...
attendez-moi. I realize the swirling rains of hopeless embarrassment. I
know what it is to want to turn away from the lifelessness I represent.
There isn't much time left for my gazouillement -(babbling.) Geindre is,
'to moan.' If they make mention of moaning on my new carte d' identite
when I apply for it after leaving here, well then, "cela fait mon affaire."
That suits me fine.
At the end of 19996, I spent 6 weeks walking from one end of Vancouver
to the other, immobilized from traveling further. Christmas looming closer
day by day. The look on my face scaring people away. But, as I meant to,
I found a way to go on.
And in the context I existed top pace my cell late into the nite last
nite. Eventually, like a moth, coming o rest standing on my bunk staring
out of my slash of a window. And like a falling star, I saw a little
plane glide into the municipal airport across the street. Sure, I indulged
in imagining it was Patsy, Patsy, Patsy and that she was here at last,
and that we would trade places.
Patsy brings to us the notion of a wealthy guilty hell, )whether or
not she done cracked her daughter.) And within her we can also harp about
(A mother gone bad) les image of tired, obsessed, sill busyness in deference
to all else. And this chord strikes les banjo of our decay in a national
sense. And so, we will push the Ramsey's carcasses into ALL TIME as symbols
of THIS TIME.
In other news, a packet of webglop sent by Lance -(who else) --- was
delivered to my door by Dep Rider today. So nice to see proof that AuntieBJ/Candy
Rose is still out there. Since Lance went thru some sort of change, of
life I hear little. I just prattle on. Anyway, les Auntie NICELY complains
that THE PARTY story COULD drag things on longer / and probably gives JAMESON
RISE to TOUCH HERSELF with GLEE -(my words.) Some things just AIN'T fair.
Some hideous god awful redneck who I HATED - (he use to RUN to be the first
in dinner line) went to prison AT LAST this morning. I have been WAITING
for him to be flushed down les toilet for WEEKS. But AL went in 6 days!
Could it be THAT was the sum total of reaction - simply to ship him away
before I could chip away at more idiotic details.
The whole onus of my questions o ALL centered on my amazement at the
TIME of the party - (ALL thru the murder nite) and the proximity, and the
so-close-but-yet-so-far reach of the polizie ALMOST contacting an attendee.
I think in the long run it embarrasses the police more than it helps the
Ramseys with the intruder theory - but- you gotto admit it does further
said theory a bit.
I lay back on my bunk and I think of some of you reading and visualizing
my disgusting bon mots of yesterday. Capital! Patsy, Patsy, Patsy.
I roll over and sketch some notes for fliers I'd like to put up in New
York City. Patzilla Ramzilla furthest thing from my mind.
Can't any of you casually lay back, install arm over eyes and try to
link les concept du "MANIFEST DESTINY" with "cyberspace."
Another 'bit of news' (fait divers')... I got an e-mail from les mother
du les guy next cell over. When Dave and I discussed it on the way to dinner
we used the phrase "they'll have to come to grips with it" someday, meaning
correction industry people, as they WATCH the net soak in, (so far in none
too dangerous ways.)
And finally, les guard, Paula Gallagher ("skeletor" they called her)
has had some bazaar shameful thing end her career here, Gone. Adios. She
was becoming a threat -so- breakout les champagne or heroin. Yee Haw, let's
go Rollerskatin'. current
| 1999 | 1998 | colfax diaries |
