when i was in prison for draft-evasion i was appointed to work in the local airport to support my imprisonment, feeding and the pay of the guards. it was a healthy development in the corrections system because it allowed longer sentences without any extra costs to the society. but still at that time most prisoners laid in their cells all doped up with sleeping pills, anti-depressents and mood-controllers that made them bleary and docile as sheep during their entire term but once they were released back to the society they were twice as maniacal as they suffered withdrawals from all the narcotics they had been force-fed and replaced it with drugs and alcohol. but i was among those lucky ones who got a steady job at a minimum security prison and i was able to save a small fortune from my paychecks during the six months i was there, while my friends serving in the army were dehumanized and plagued by sicknesses and depression in this killing-machine factory, and for all their sleepless nights and pains received only enough money to buy a pack of cigarettes a day. meanwhile i was able to go on weekend holidays along with the rest of the criminals, which was strange, and my workplace was very liberal. we had our own house for lunch and coffee breaks and it was a very cozy little hut with a kitchen and a tv and a brick grill outside. every friday we bought sausages and roasted them in the fire smoking cigars the money launderers and other business crooks bought us. i became their friend since we shared a mutual nonviolent greed and nihilism towards the world around us and i was eager to learn their tricks and insights into life. i remember one day especially well when the spring sun had begun to roast us in the green luscious yard of the work-ground and we sucked on our cuban stogies with laid-back satisfaction, when the airport janitor, also a convict walked over. "hey guys", he said. "don't come over to my shack today, okay?" "Why not?" i asked. "i got my girl coming over there." "what? in that place next to the parking lot?" "yeah. she's gonna bring some champagne and rubbers, but don't tell anybody, okay?" he wandered back to his place to wait and sure enough we saw his girlfriend drive there and go inside. the guy had some balls. there were no guards in the working grounds. she could've just as easily brought some dope or weapons for him. but he was a peaceful-kind of guy. prison life sure was easy in finland. we kept smoking our cigars and laughed at the whole thing.

Being In Prison

thomas nobody

Recent comments

Dstar Pyro