Saturday, March 26, 2016

William Myrl; Letters to No One (42)

Dear No One,
I am sitting in the pod, ten o'clock at night, listening to LGFUAD on repeat. Its one of those songs that doesn't dull until it does, and then I can put the volume up one more notch and it feels fresh again. I had cheese and biscuits for breakfast, so I saved the cheese. Lunch was a pepperoni sandwich, not terribly enticing, so I saved the meat. Before they let us out after nine o'clock count I cooked a ramen noodle and a half with a handful of saltine crackers in an old chip bag. If you use just enough water and put pressure on it to sit for a while it becomes something the locals call a brick. I cooked the pepperoni and cheese with some crumbled crackers in the microwave, then I put them in a bowl with the squished out brick. Coincidentally, I had some of the commissary pizza a sauce at hand to complete the dish. It looked sort of like a pizza pie (a literal pizza pie, not a regular pizza) and I know you must tire of me talking about my inmate cookery but it is interesting to me. I was quite pleased with myself. Including a Pepsi the meal would be about a dollar fifty, a third of a days wage. Living large. 
Back to the music. Mania is difficult to describe. Whenever the med kids ask me about it I get vague and flounder. Music makes it easier, because that is what mania feels like, I think. LGFUAD, by Motion City Soundtrack (I've never listened to another song of theirs all the way through) and I Can't Decide, by the Scissor Sisters,(another band I don't actually listen to) are both fantastic. The entire debut album of The Protomen will also do just fine. 
Life is looking well for me. My essay comes out in two months, and I have every expectation of getting into the Washington and Lee class. My brother is keeping the site together, and the eBook version of Mythopoeia and the Riven Shield will be a thing in the near future. Mom is worrying that the Square head and Triangle comics won't send the right message about me to future readers, but I feel it will be alright. In a lot of ways, my time here is not like other peoples. Maybe that makes me a bad reporter, except I am all you've got, so that makes me the best reporter. I'm pretty sure that's how it works.
I have been trying to get moved to the same pod my buddies went to, so far no luck. Our unit manager is more amenable than most to making changes, especially for shop workers. Technically, you can't request specific cells, if they move you it is supposed to be a swap to whatever spot happens to be open somewhere else at the time. It is one of the few instances where the reality diverging from policy comes out in our favor. Our guy is allegedly leaving the prison soon, so I may not have long to secure my spot. I will be comfortable either way, my current lodgings aren't bad. It was nice having friends for a while, there was no reason to expect it to last. At least their wierd blood fued with Mao has cooled.
Sooner or later, everyone starts playing quidditch.
If you got that reference, thank you.
The song has changed. This is Me, by Draft King. That's another flavor of crazy for you, and a much pleasanter one than the previously mentioned.

Yours,
William Myrl 

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