15 Apr 04
I received lots of eggs on Easter Sunday – cockroach eggs. I noticed what looked like a piece of a worm glued to my dictionary – it was full of cockroach babies. I discovered two more empty egg containers, and more nests in my commissary bag and legal file. In my Manila envelopes, large and tiny cockroaches were running wild. I poured the cockroaches out of one envelope into the toilet, but in the time it took to press the flusher button, they had scurried out of the toilet bowl at warp speed and were scrambling around my feet.
They were none too happy about their encampment being besieged on a holy day, and as darkness came they struck back. Numerous baby cockroaches, tinier than ants, started the demonstration by zigzagging on the walls like miniscule bumper cars. They were soon joined by the adult members of their community. One about the size of an almond nut crawled onto my bare foot. Some larger ones invaded the blanket near my right shoulder, and I had to sleep with a sheet wrapped around my head because I feared they were coming after the earwax they love so much.
The bug activity perturbed Mark. Staying awake for most of the night until his eyelids finally closed, he then dreamt they were crawling all over him. He awoke in a terrible sweat, scratching his body, and discovered his dream had come true.
Federal law states that inmates have the right not to live in an insect-infested environment, but the jail flouts the law by showing the external referees its insecticide spraying records. As you are aware, the insecticide is sprayed upon the inmates and the only effect it has upon the cockroaches is as a temporary intoxicant. On spray day they act like drunkards, stumbling home from the pub, but they quickly sober up.
My new neighbour's behaviour has upset the whole pod. He’s young and he boasts he is a rapper and a "shit talka." Every day he uses his cell walls, door and table as drums. He likes to tell passersby to "fuck themselves" and he is recklessly hostile to the guards. What upsets the inmates most of all is his nighttime soliloquizing. He has received numerous threats upon his good health. Presently, he is rapping:
Da roaches on da wall,
We don’t need no water,
Let the motherfuckers fall!
Now he’s clicking his fingers and cackling to himself, “I’d have my shit on motherfucking billboards by now if it wuzn’t for deeze assholes! I should be a fucking millionaire! Please, I wanna get out of here! I wanna go home!"
I placed a green onion from my dinner into a polystyrene cup. I half filled it with water and to my delight it started to grow roots. Now I have a plant of my own to love and care for. I haven’t seen a plant in years! Mark said he suspects I’ve been here for too long.
Quote of the month:
"For the secret of a man is not his Oedipus complex or his inferiority complex: it is the limit of his own liberty, his capacity for resisting torture and death."
John Paul Sartre
Thanks for all the letters of support I’ve received since the blog began.