I remember a time in my past when......

[Bird on a Wire]

Kinda new at the whole posting thing, but reading this thread brought back so much shit.

I think one of the worst things was getting set back for some crap that never would have occurred to you would be held against you... after about 2 years of up and down the phase game i finally got to go to a tiny one-room christian 'school' (and oh-so-gratefully did i trot off to it, dressed in my pearly rehab togs); got set back 5 days later, because i had played pool with my teacher. Pool was apparently seen as a huge druggie tie and i was evidently seen being 'coy and flirtatious' (ie laughing and enjoying myself) with the old man... then i came back to the building and was in such a good mood that i was singing a Queen song while helping to make the evening slop. Obviously that didn't go over too well either!

When I was brought into group off 'responsibilities' and stood up, to 'talk about my day at school' - as they used to scape-goat people into doing so the poor saps stuck to the blue chairs would feel properly jealous of others being able to go out off-leash - I was side-swiped and sand-blasted, set back immediately and frozen... It is one of the times I remember feeling the most totally fucking discouraged cause i really saw i would never know how to grasp all the shit you could not do, unless i just totally became something i couldn't be - a drone without tastes, without hobbies, without anything but the program...

I could never get the hang of WHY reading, singing, dancing, pool, etc would kill you, bring you back to drugs insanity death...

[webcrawler]

When I was brought into group off 'responsibilities' and stood up, to 'talk about my day at school' - as they used to scape-goat people into doing so the poor saps stuck to the blue chairs would feel properly jealous of others being able to go out off-leash

Mondays in group was the worst for me because the staff would come in and brag about all the great things they did over the weekend. I guess they thought it would make us "work our program" even harder so we could do that stuff.

I used to daydream nonstop about all the fun things I wanted to do once I was free and yet it seemed so unattainable and far away.

[starry-eyed pirate]

yeah...i remember that...i remember how i appreciated the smell of fresh air.  i was so deprived of natural sunlight and the fresh breeze.  i remember how keen all my senses became due to the deprivetion.

[Antigen]

The S.N.A.F.U. Principle
From a World War II Army acronym for "Situation Normal, All F*cked Up". "True communication is possible only between equals, because inferiors are more consistently rewarded for telling their superiors pleasant lies than for telling the truth." A central tenet of Discordianism, often invoked by hackers to explain why authoritarian hierarchies screw up so reliably and systematically. The effect of the SNAFU Principle is a progressive disconnection of decision-makers from reality.

Once upon a time, during the school year, some number of phasers were allowed* to have morning rap out in the back field instead of in the building. This was a big deal, or at least they played it for all it was worth. So we did the rap. I can't remember the content. It was, except for the blinding sunshine and the winsome sight of I-75 leading northward and away, probably  typically mundane, idiotic bullshit.

When we got back inside, naturally they instructed us to talk about how wonderful it was. And it was! Once the blindness started to pass, it was absolutely fantastic to be out in the sun and fresh air! I never thought I'd be so happy to see and feel the sand and ants and flies an stickers.

None the less, it backfired. And that was sweeter still. Every damned one of us had been kept indoors for so long that even an hour or two of Florida sunshine left us severely burned. Some of us had blisters. And that li'll reality check lingered, painfully and undeniably for a week or more afterward.

Oh, it was so worth it! I was one of the fairest skinned ppl there, being primarily Irish and German by blood. Damn, that hurt! But it was soooo enjoyable seeing that little mean spirited attempt at inciting jealousy backfire so completely.


*Forgive the passive tense, please. I can't remember for certain which staffer allowed it (or, more rightly, announced it to us Groupies and took credit) but I think it was Letha Yost.

Our nada who art in nada, nada be thy name. Thy kingdom nada, thy will be nada as it is in nada. Give us this nada our daily nada and nada us our nada as we nada our nadas and nada us into nada but deliver us from nada; pues nada. Hail nothing full of nothing, nothing is with thee.
--Ernest Hemingway, American author

[Anonymous]

That was a prison.

[Nonconformistlaw]

God I wish I could remember a rap being held outside. I dont think I ever experienced one of those. I think the closest we got to the great outdoors was the precious car rides to and from the building every day, and those occassions that staff would allow group doors opened to let the fresh air in or to cool off the steaming hot group room.

Of course staff had to spoil our view & enjoyment of the sun and the nearby field by lining up several people to guard the doors....preventing cop outs was much more important than allowing us to enjoy a little fresh air and sunshine.  :roll:

Yeah, it was prison alright.  :mad:

[Antigen]

I remember a time in my past when...

My brother had just come back home and moved back into the boys' room in the house--the converted carport. He brought w/ him all kinds of interesting trinkets and ideas; world experience and such. I remember the Turkish stuff the most. There was this tapastry made by some old process involving painting w/ wax, dying the exposed fabric and then boiling out the was and making the next layer. It was a beautiful picture of black and maroon and deep purple making out an attractive, buxom brunette in perril from a big crow w/ sharp claws. And there was a skillfully crafted brass box shaped like a treasure chest; very ornate. That became the model for the little box in the back of my mind where I stashed my own thoughts while in the gulag. It was and is a precious thing that I'll always "own".

I'd lay back on my brother's waterbed, which smelled of must from old leaks and the musk of old sex, after school while my brother was at work. And smoke a jib of my brother's pot (he'd invited me to) and I'd look at that tapestry and wonder about the old room-mate who never returned from his last 'business trip' to Turkey.

Sometimes, I'd toke up and then go for a walk around the neighborhood, just reeling in the vibrant colors, smells, sounds and laughing inside about whether or not neighbors I chanced to meet knew how ripped I was.

Life was good. I often wonder what might have been had I not been drawn into the twilight zone.

It sucks when decent, hardworking people get screwed over like that. Because that means pricks like us don?t stand a chance.
 


http://www.moderndrunkardmagazine.com' target='_new'>Jim S. watching the devastation of the recent tsunami on the television at JR?s

[starry-eyed pirate]

Fe'l ya.

[Bird on a Wire]

I remember a few raps where they would open the back doors of the building in summer... that was torture, cause you'd sit there remembering when you had choices... you could have gotten up ON YOUR OWN and just DECIDED to do something.

That was the one thing when I came out that held an almost eternal, mystical wonder - that I could fucking CHOOSE ANYTHING. Those first days of closing the bathroom door and being alone inside... the choice to be IN SILENCE, blessed god-damn quiet... The choice to walk away from someone obnoxious, or not have to answer when a person was trying to get into a conversation you didn't want to take part in... The biggest tortures of those places was in the thought of all the little things that were taken away.

One other thing I remember that freaked me out way back when, was the knowledge that people might not help you if you got out... I remember being put in the car when I first got in, and the other chick with us tried to take off so the oldcomer slammed the door so I was locked in with those bloody child-proofs... The other girl was running down the road screaming for help in the middle of the Bronx - people would look over and see her running from this other girl who was yelling 'don't worry, she's from a rehab. she's a drug addict and she needs help. she's out of her mind" and the people on the street JUST WATCHED HER GET TACKLED AND PUT BACK IN THE CAR. No one did anything. No one asked any questions. That was the creepiest fucking thing I'd ever seen...

[Anonymous]

i' been kidnapped right off the street like that too.  A total nightmare come true.

[starry-eyed pirate]

-starry-eyed pirate  :skull:  :skull:  :skull:

[Nonconformistlaw]

Yeah I was kidnapped right off the street to...with bystanders watching....Only someone, for some reason actually intervened and tried to help. When the good samaritin lost his grip from the moving car I was held captive in...he told someone to call the police. (I found that out later of course). That person was rare I'm sure. I bet most people just stood by and did nothing. I never got to thank the good samaratin that actually recognized that something was very wrong and helped me. And its hell to know most kids didn't get lucky like I did, having someone come to my rescue I mean. Sadly Bird on A Wire's description of how the copout/kidnappings went down was the norm.  :mad: