Anthology of Snippets

Note: You are about to see is what Master-Joh lovingly calls black propaganda. If you are not up to reading something that might ruin your day, I’m sorry, perhaps I will be able to post something happier after 2 p.m. PHT.

Contrary as what others may think, I have not disappeared into nothingness. Neither have I been busy, bored, or melted into the woodwork. This Wicked W(B)!+ch is still alive and kicking.

Last night, I was happily playing Sally’s Spa, while researching for PLR articles, while uploading themes, while looking for songs to stream on the Dumaguete City BisdakFM/WildRideFM Internet radio, when I noticed a full CP inbox. I had forgotten to clear out the messages from Globe after sending GCash. Anyway, as soon as space was provided, messages started to flood in. The second SPied mom was airing some news that made my happy disposition turn sour. I instantly wanted to throw-up (yes, I get that way when I’m upset – so sue me). As it turns out, the Machine at prison camp has been setting up FireWalls that would prevent us from looking out the window.  Of course, they have been trying to block our vision of the outside world as we are supposed to stare at bars and nothing else – heck, we can’t even talk with other inmates. I think they have this vision of wearing blinders/blinkers (those things you see on the horses to prevent them from looking at the side or something…).

I think, perhaps, that this time around they are making some progress. But I would not count on it. The second SPied mom reckons I/WE should expect a certificate of excellence in delinquency that might be our ticket for a FORCED prison break. I am not sure of these developments, but who knows what lay on the horizon. For now, I can really see the FireWall that the Machine has oh so sneakily put up.

Yeahp. I think I might as well bend this time… Take note, THIS TIME. But that does not mean I am going to shut up. Obviously this is the only way the Machine can get us to look at this effing bars for a while… yet this will not last. I assure you. You cannot simply stare at bars without going nuts. Sadly, I’m afraid I am one who has a problem standing still or keeping my hands to myself. I believe I have what others call the DeeDee sickness described as “Ooohh! What does this button do??” We shall see.

And now I leave you with this last few thoughts. As Elle Woods once said, “Happy people just don’t shoot their husbands…” Well, if you change “husbands” and insert something there, then I think you will get my idea. I just hate being caged. I doubt if I was ever meant to be caged. Perhaps these are the signs that I was looking for. I secretly believe that I was meant to be my own boss. LoL..

Lastly, I dedicate this song to the Machine, and all the wardens, prison guards: Cypress Hill’s “You Can’t Get the Best of Me”.

YOU CAN’T GET THE BEST OF ME (you can’t, you can’t hold me down)
CAN’T GET THE BEST OF ME (you can’t hold me down)

Painting by Nikolai Getman