Older letters from John
Just got off behavior control. What they do is put in solitary confinement with your boxer shorts and one blanket with the blowers on full. That all you get. Nothing else. No Beanie. No shirt. No socks. No shoes. Nothing. No soap. No toothpaste. No cups. Nothing for (72) hours. I bundled up in a ball under the side of the concrete table wall to let the airflow-over the top of me. My wolf is gone. I couldn’t even make myself pissed off. I nonchalantly told them, do what you gotta do. (° ͡ ͜ ͡ʖ ͡ °)Wasn’t made when they shot me in the nuts or the eyes. It was my actions that caused it. How can I be mad at them? No matter where they may put me, no matter what they may do to me, no matter where I may be in the world, they cannot stop my thinking. They cannot control my heart, nor oppress my soul. To them, all they have is a physical shell.
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