There was some action yesterday in an effort to take away my internet connection. Clearly, I prevailed. Gee, I wonder what I wrote that made them want to end my ability to speak to the world? Was it the truth? I think it was!
My poor, battered body is trying to avoid more injection torture today by keeping me in plain sight in the courtyard. The medical staff here lies in order to be able to inject me. The nurses try to hide when they do it. And, they all lie to cover it up. We all know that they know that what they do is torture. They know they are guilty. Why else would they lie and try to hide it? That doesn't require a criminal psychologist to notice.
I have had the good company of my inmate Richard (There are two Richards. One is a vile deputy ward manager; the other is my angel of an inmate.) and the Occupational Therapy (OT) activity director JoAnn for much of my time here outside where I am now sitting in the shade of the building and overhang typing away with these notes to posterity and the world. My inmates are rock star... sometimes literally. I don't know what I would do without them or the OT staff.