By slaveobjectx
The Lucky Day
When you’re a slave, you get to thinking. There’s a lot of time for thinking in a place like that penitentiary. I was no great shakes at learning — lazy and a bum rather than stupid, I’d say now. But in there you get to thinking all kinds of things. Oh, there are the normal things — like when am I gonna be fed and will it be, like, worth eating? Let me tell you that sure doesn’t go a long way in a place like that. You need more to fill your time than the thoughts of a dumb animal. That’s giving in to them. That’s playing their game. There’s no books and sure as hell no TV — nothing to educate you except what you make of your situation. I guess I’m apologising in advance for giving you some of the thinking I did and I’m not claiming it’s profound or anything.
Like this whole thing with the chains, welded on and all. They’re there, they’re like that, to fuck with your mind. If you were tied up, say, rather than in chains then I think you’d waste a lot of time thinking about escape — because you know ropes can be cut. All right, you may not have a knife but then you might be foolish enough to keep your hopes alive by thinking of a bit of broken glass, or a jagged beer can or a broken beer bottle. But what way is there out of chains and metal? They know that. It fucks your mind because you soon know there’s no way out, know it deep inside yourself. The reason chains have always been used to bind slaves and animals is to keep them in their place and that place is pretty damn low so that a slave begins to think he’s an animal and not a man. Then, they keep you in a place, a physical space and you soon know you’re not going far with the weight of them, and the restricted length of them.
