Mirrors have been banned from Ad Seg inTexas. Ad Seg inmates can no longer have the small hand held mirrors (that commissary once sold). They say the inmates can make weapons (of Mass Destruction) with them!
Inmates have been making weapons LONG before these small hand held mirrors and will be making weapons LONG after (unfortunately, though).
You see, when you leave a neglected mind and abandoned body to its own devices it will start to divide and conquer the space known to him as boredom aka apathy aka rotting existence. Through madd science- and pure neglect- inmates experiment with matter when nobody was giving a damn about the matter at hand (oppression, cruelty, indifference) matter of factly! So, YES! Contraptions have been conceived. But, the first time a pencil was used to poke holes in flesh why wasn’t it banned? We must observe the MOTIVES behind these master architects of torture. For those in Ad Seg who already suffer the supreme experience of sensory deprivation they have finally received the coup de grace of the 5.
Hands have been locked and barred from the most spiritual of the 5. NO touching allowed. NO hug, firm hand shake, or pounds to give to those you have come to share this hell of a life with.
Sounds no longer lick the ears with pleasantries, but kick the eardrums with SLAM, BAM, BANG, ID #, SHAKEDOWN. These words slither their way to brains which will be future stem cell research material to figure out how bodies in Ad Seg cells began to reflect spinal meningitis symptoms.
Taste buds bloom prickly cotton thorns from beef stew, mildew and a stew of ronis, macaronis and phoney, phoney substances entitled food.
The smell, now invaded by the stewed surroundings of withering bodies, emit the shit, sweat, stressed odors that come with doing this kind of time.
And thus the death blow:
The last of the Mohicans, the one thing that remained which kept us attached to the remnants of what human life was like. To be able to gaze in the pupils and search deep for the child before crime, molestation and gang infestation. The ability to see that the face can still smile now and cry later, but it’s all see you later alligator, au revoir, arrivederci, Auf wiedersehen. The alarms went off that inmates were digging, pushing, prying, finding their way to release through these portals, passage ways that show more than the stern, racist, cruel faces reflected onto us from the other images standing in front of us; monstrosity putting on tinsel shows that want us to be walking dead, invasion of the body snatchers, texas chainsaw massacres.
So, they blind us. Forbid vision, hindsight, foresight- “belly, back, side” as the Trinis say- cause it’s everything, everywhere, everyone GONE! How can we perceive the thieves, view the brutes, when we’ve lost touch with the closest thing to freedom- our faces free of bars, cages, mesh, chicken wire- staring back at us, tempting us, to reflect what we see and see a reflection beyond the scumbags and hoodlums they write us off as in the Express, Chronicle, Herald.
They want to Oh Say Can You See us dwindling from existence. Inmate on Inmate assaults are NO LESS and no prettier as items still slice, dice and puncture. It was never about the violence anyway, rather how we was silently finding our way back.
Our passage way is no more. PROHIBITED! Made Enemy of the State! FORBIDDEN to us to forever dull us, damage us and kill us softly as we die forgetting we ever existed at all.