You say:
I can't wait to get out of here.
I can't sleep with the lights on.
The C.O.s don't care about me.
How am I suppose to eat this food?
They won't give me my meds.
I was supposed to be out on work search last week.
Everyone is always talking about me. People can't mind their own business.
I need to get out of here.
The bed is hard.
The pillow isn't even a real pillow.
The water is hard.
I can't see out the windows.
There's no shampoo.
Why won't anyone listen to me?
I think:
Shut your mouth. Whomever pities you in real life isn't here right now... thank God. We're in jail. If at some point after 90 min of talking you realize the only one still listening or returning the idiotic volleys that tumble out of your mouth is the homeless guy... nobody gives a shit about your troubles. I was here when you got here and I'll be here when you leave... believe me, both of us are excited for that day to come.
Complaining about being in jail to other people in jail is so brain scramblingly annoying I can't even be upset about it. All I can say in response is, "yeah, jail sucks."
And, it does... but the company is BY FAR the worst part.
No comments:
Post a Comment