35. Excerpt from Earl Bishop’s Prison Journal

10-29-08:

 

The people who denied my appeal, they probably think I’m a fucking brat for even complaining.

 

“Grow some balls Earl, why don’tcha.” That’s what they’d say to me if they saw me.

 

Obviously these bastards don’t know what prison’s like. They obviously don’t realize that the only difference between me in here and them out there is the fact that “in here” even exists.

 

They don’t realize that if there wasn’t a “prison” to compare the “free world” to, the “free world” wouldn’t seem so goddamn free.

 

They’d tell me I deserve this, the monotony and constant noise; tell me that I need to stop bitching and pay my dues. But they don’t see that their own lives of constantly trying to move up in the ranks, getting that degree and getting that job then wasting away their better years so they can, maybe, get that retirement check then die is the same shit we’ve got to deal with in here, shuffling around in lines whenever we’re going to the yard or the cafeteria, trying to hold our heads high even though our minds are completely fucking smashed, just to keep the slight hope that somebody mightgive us some goddamn respect; the moves we make in the prison system’s ladder, from fresh-meat to seasoned-convict; the way we’ve got to work around the prison guards the same way you’ve got to work your way around your corporate bosses, only difference being our bosses would love to eyeball fuck each of us with the barrel of their guns. Which is a little more motivation than you’ve got out there, tell you the truth.

 

And you can’t say shit to me like I don’t know about that side, the side you’re on. I’m a chameleon, man. I’ve been there.

 

I got the degree.

 

I got the credentials.

 

I’ve seen the worthlessness of your “value” system.

 

You officials would come in here, hear me out, then say to me, “this is prison, Earl, what did you expect?”

 

But you don’t see that you’re in a prison your damn selves.

 

I was reborn the first morning I woke up in this cell; reborn into a world just as fucked up as the one I left behind.

 

Not more fucked up.  Just as.

 

You’d try to say that I’m wrong for thinking like that too. And you know what I’d say to that?

 

Fuck you. Plain and simple.

 

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