First i was introduced and set down on front row. i have stated recently that i was not surprised to find out that a place like str8 existed. i knew i was dealing with a monstrous entrenchment of authoritarian dictatorship for a long time before i was actually in str8. Despite my awareness of the social-authority power structure i was still shocked at the place i found myself on the day of my intake: 3/15/85. To this day i am shocked even in a way. Post trauma tic-toc tic-toc tic-toc stress 'n' all. Yeah i was in shock at the scene around me. i couldn' even believe where i was. i sat in my orange chair and some muther fucker shoved his knuckles down my back. The mind-rape of the yout' had begun. My eyes were held open(figuratively, that is)
Next they introduced Harry Ta47o=. He 'z from somewhere in MD. i still remember what he looked like then. They put him like 3 seats down from me on front row. Next they introduce Ben Ve0123 and set him on down the row too. He was from Reston. We all 3 came in on the same day. it was a saturday, of course.
After a little while Harry bends forward to look at me and says: "lets bolt together for that door" i jus' looked at him. i wasn' jus' gonna bolt for the door. i didn' say anything back. i was in shock by what seemed to be happening to me and around me. All my paranoid suspicions were confirmed. There was a secret prison for radical and rebellious yout'. And i was an inmate!! ...Be cool...jus' be cool(i thought).
i left Harry hangin' like that. We could 'a' maybe copped out together like that; through the kitchen doors on the side of group, out into the parkin lot and down the RR tracks. i don' know. But i ran in the mornin' from my host-home anyway but i was caught about a quarter mile into the woods and brought back into group with full cop-out honors on my 2nd day. Blasted by exec. staff in an intake room for half the day and then re-introduced to group: "Who remembers starry-eyed muther-fuckin' pirate ??" and blasted some more.
One time Harry was gone for like a month and when they brought him back he had dyed his hair. We came in on the same day and we jus' both kept coppin-out over 'n' over again. He was cool. He finally copped out a fourth time and never came back(lucky muther-fucker, they wouldn' let me go). Finally i heard he had wrecked his motorcycle and had sustained some kind of a serious head trauma.
That's an old rumor that i heard right after str8. i don' know if it's true, but i always felt like it pro'ly was.
i don' know, i get ta thinkin' on it sometimes 'n' i jus' wonder...WTF!! :skull:
