Letters from Prison #7

Letters from Prison

11/06/05

G’day M-,

Well, you’ve probably already read the letter I sent to P- so I won’t go into the fight I had in here. Another week gone & it puts me closer to my release. I get released on 18th October so you can tell everyone. My sister has asked me to go to her birthday party (on that day). I am still deciding whether I will go.

Sorry to hear about T-. She was a fantastic little girl. Now, at least, she won’t be in pain. I said a prayer for her the day I got your letter (last Wednesday). I realise how you feel but always remember she will be by your side watching over you if you keep the memory of her alive. Maybe we should all pitch in & get you a puppy. Your choice of breed, of course. We’ll talk more about it when I get out.

I haven’t been doing much this week (since I broke my finger) & the days drag on. This morning we got our buy-up & I thought it was only Thursday. I will be glad to get out of here. I think I’ve been going through withdrawals for the pot & I know I’ve definitely gotten older looking. My cellmate said it’s because of the mental anguish a person feels when not surrounded by the people he loves. D- (my cellie) is right into religion & he is also Lebanese. A heap of blokes have invited me to where they live on the outside, Newcastle, Batemans Bay, Lake Illawarra, Eden & Wollongong, but I think I just want to forget about everything associated with this place.

Thanks for selling the ute. I do hope P- brings the money up but I’m not counting on it. Well I’ve run out of things to write except to say I NEED A ROOT!!! Say hello to everyone and I hope I see you all soon.

Catch you on the flipside.

C-

P.S. Good joke. I’ve told EVERYONE. There’s a joke on the back. See you when I’m looking at you.

A MAN, SMOKING A CIGAR, GOES INTO A BAR & ORDERS A DRINK. WHILE THE BARMAN POURS IT THE MAN WITH THE CIGAR STARTS BLOWING SMOKE RINGS. AN INDIAN WALKS UP TO HIM & SAYS ‘IF YOU SAY THAT ABOUT MY MOTHER ONE MORE TIME I’M GONNA PUNCH YOUR LIGHTS OUT!’

HAR! HAR! HARDY! HAR! HAR!

Don’t worry. I’m not tapped & neither am I! Three of us share a cell. Me, myself, & I.

HA! HA! HA! (HACK! COUGH! SPITUOOI! HACK! HACK!) HA! HA!

I have to get between me & myself. They’re always fighting. At least I’ve always got someone to talk to! HA! HEE! HAW! HO! HAR! HO! HO! HUM! EH?!

(See what gaol does to a person.)

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