Rabid Sharks
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Prison Blog

In which Possum recounts his experiences as an offender in the system.

Possum Bones is autistic. He has identified as a dirty kid in the past, and he’s attended multiple rainbow gatherings. He has several years left to serve in the Washington Correctional system.

He has been making art since he could sit up. He communicates better in writing than speech. If you are interested in the experience of an autistic person doing prison time, check out his Prison Blog. If you are a fan of comic art, underground/outsider music, Lovecraft, Clarke Ashton Smith, Murakami, Cixui Liu, etc.

Blog Sept. 3rd, 1:15AM

Each day I hope I'll go insane.  The sweet death of logic, to take me away from crushing reality.  All around me I see the people stripped bare of all they have, they become so binary, so easy to read.  It is a dark glimpse into the soul of a man.  For all I see in my society are mainly selfish, guarded people.  they say and do the same thing every day with insect-like precision, like swine on a farm in our small cages.  Friends must needs have a transactional basis with mutual benefit or the friendship is something else, one person ripping off another.  To give even a crumb is to call down the locusts. I a, becoming a solipsist and I see that I lack the dominance to be socially successful.  But I don't wish to be a beta either.  The clever ones know I am different, an outsider with a mind unlike the others, singling me out for a meal.  I wish I could just never speak, so my feeble attempts to mimic humans and pretend to care of understand would never arise.  They keep a score that I don't understand, that means nothing to me.  Because I'll never understand you will always be my enemy, your gaze confuses me, your words anger me and I don't understand, I want you gone from my world. 

A world of people.  I am not of that world.  My true self, my mind, is without the...framework of gender, of pecking order, of ordinary morals, of many facets of human nature.  I would eat a sandwich from your garbage and not find it different from the one in your fridge.  I have drank a fifth of bloody vodka, of days old blood, brown and coagulated.  I have no hsame.  I would feel my partner treat me like a delicate and pretty thing though I am a foul-smelling fattened monster.  I would writhe in filth in ecstasy, daring you to come into the swampy night and debase yourself throwing away that shell of humanity, and come ride with the wild hunt fearless in the face of oblivion. I am all that is forbidden to you, which puritanically you recoil from in horror, of course I can't be a part of society in jail or in the free world.  And I hate you all for being so boring and so afraid and repressed so alone I exult the dark gods within the heart of my animal soul.  Your customes perplex me.  I know there is something missing in me that most people have. some string of code that mes them like they are.  But I was born am outsider and left to find my own truth.  You are all that I despise and I refuse to acknowledge your consciousness.  I only hope to avoid you and your kind and die peacefully, tired and alone.

Elisa Carlson