Next stop Trauma Unit

Thursday night..

The Drama Hour!!

Dudes to the left and right and opposite and above..

-NOT Stomping on floors

-NOT banging on walls

-an also NOT banging on doors

"That's my SON Yo"

:/

Despite corny lyrics and questionable credibility of said lyricists..

The Drama Hour is one of the highlights of the week.

I'm flicking' between that an ANOTHER very good
set on WKCR.ORG called Rap cats.

That's a completely different affair..

More chilled out beats..

Better bars..

Plus there's no commercial breaks!!

Trust me this is a big thing,
the TV over here is SO fucking bate!!

You don't get more than like FIVE MINUTES without a commercial break,
an then the break lasts about ten minutes too!! It's fucking LONG!!

I seen episodes of that 'Gangland' show..

On YouTube it's about fifteen minutes long.

Yet they got it on the telly over here
in forty five minutes episodes..

Shit is so retarded..

So what to do.

Watch the Spanish channel instead!!

This is my favorite show right now..

I watch it every couple of days in a big group
of Dominican and Puerto Rican dudes..

You don't need to understand the language
to watch this show.

Check it out and you'll see exactly what i mean..

It's TOO jokes..

Ok..

I'm back to Dezzy Dez an the Drama Hour.

Lots of unconvincing claims of moving bricks..

Being strapped while going to court..

An it's all set off by some next aggy beats
an pure gonshat samples..

"I WET THAT WHOLE BLOCK LIKE HURRICANE KATRINA..THERE'S BURNERS
IN THE SUITCASE, ALL BLACK WITH BOOTS LACED.."

Good stuff..

Six til noon weekdays

I wake to a very cold room.

It's dimly lit..

An the door is locked.

Not that i particularly care.

:/

I got cereal AN milk AN coffee AN a copy of Spice Magazine..

Hot water's working?

Keep the fucking door locked.

It really is cold in here..

My tshirt an shorts combo ain't puttin' no twerk in
an neither is my paper thin Rizla blanket!!

What to do..What to do..

:/

No no no..

Socks and a beanie hat.

Much better..

:)

So i'm laying here with the radio on,
trying to wake up as slowly as possible. There are shadows dotted
around the room that keep growing and shrinking due to the clouds
that have covered the sky in a grey mass.

It looks very gloomy in here.

People outside look bloody miserable..

If only they knew..

"Yo TimDizzly"

What.

What could you possibly want from me now.

"This what London look like on the regular my n****r?"

Yup.

"This that London FOG BABY!!"

Indeed.

:/

In one swift motion..

With my arm DEFINITELY NOT planted on the pipe above,
i scoot off the side of the bed and bounce off the table using
the end of my toes..

Some people are impressed when i do this.

They really shouldn't be..

:(

It only requires time..

The doors are open now..

Time to eat..

Slight improvement

FREE HOOVER

I got the news this week that a good friend of mine
has been incarcerated in the United Kingdom prison system.

I do not think incarceration for this individual benefits any
party involved whatsoever as this was a hardworking, intelligent
individual who was carving out a career, studying, he was gaining
the necessary qualifications to better himself and earnt an honest
living in the process.

This is a good man with an incredible amount of potential,
despite the sentence that has been handed to him i know that
this will NOT stop him from achieving great things in life..

He will be back soon..

But While he IS incarcerated..

I'm sure it would be of great benefit to him if people can
show him that they have not and WILL not forget about him!!

Remind him that this is ONLY temporary!!

So that when the time comes for him to touch the town again..

He'll hit the ground running..

Stay focussed mate you'll be just fine.

Tim

"Men are more ready to repay an injury than a benefit,
because gratitude is a burden and revenge is a pleasure" - TACITUS, C.A.D. 55-120

They got thick bitches over there?

My sleep patterns have changed again.

I'm staying up late sketching..

Writing..

Reading..

Staring at the ceiling..

All the while accompanied by ultra
depressive musical accompaniment.

Anxiety at my upcoming sentencing?

That would be a good guess.

:/

The idea of movement and a definitive time frame
on my captivity IS something i am positive about..

Don't get it fucked up..

But i guess it's the uncertainty the situation.

Or maybe even a fear of change?

I mean..

We are SUPPOSED to be beings of habit.

Right?

As in we find comfort in our routines and schedules.

We become familiar with our surroundings..

An again don't get it fucked up,
i don't like being in prison and i am not
in a state of mind where i want to stay here
for even a second longer than i have to..

But i am pretty nervous at the moment.

Although what's coming might actually involve me being
freed from captivity and let back out into the world..

Coming back to the human race
after years of being held as a hostage..

......

It also might not.

:(

Which brings a whole ASS hole full of bullshit
that you can probably imagine asking yourself
if you were in my (fake Nike) shoes..

-How MUCH longer am i going to be held?

-WHERE am i going to be sent next?

-What will it actually be like in this next yard?

And so on and so forth..

I try my best NOT to address
these questions whenever possible.

It's a waste of time..

Instead of imagining the worst that could happen,
i try to flip it and instead imagine myself in another jail
doing even better that i am now.

Picturing nightmare situations doesn't prepare me for anything..

Except being next level prang.

An if i wanted to do that
I'd still be Bunning sour.

Which i am not!!

I have an asshole full of clean piss-tests to prove it..

:)

When i DO stare at the ceiling an bug out,
i try to direct my thoughts onto something that
is going to inspire me and keep me going throughout
the day instead of crippling my motivation.

I have many future plans..

An i flick between them..

They're images i have cut and pasted in my brain.

Different (currently) fictional scenarios..

I've spent years putting them together..

Many nights and days have been spent staring
at the (almost) blank canvas above my bed,
shaping ideas and dreams that keep me going
whenever i start to lose focus and think that my
life is destined to be spent in shackles an blues.

People and places..

Different faces..

Sometimes i end up falling asleep
and waking up outside surrounded
by people i know who tell me they've
missed me and that everything is
going to be ok..

Eventually it will yes.

:)

These dreams and thoughts of what i can do with myself
when i get out help to point my nose in the right direction.

After two years of..

Well..

A very solitary uphill battle against..

Erm..

Now i actually have a (rough and likely to change) date
which COULD mean me being finally released from
captivity and returning to the human realm..

Or possibly doing another seven fucking years in prison..

:(

It's only natural for me to be..

Erm..

Concerned about my predicament..

So this is how I'm dealing with things.

One day at a time.

Caffeine sweats

As i put pen to paper,
I don't have any particular topic in mind.

There are no specific scenarios i want to
back track on right now and i don't have any
idea as to what i should write on this paper..

I just like how easy it is to write with this pen,
and i've just finished my first cup of coffee in a week.

So let's see where i can go with this.

For a start it's a Tuesday night in New York City.

It's late and i'm locked in,
listening to some Howling Wolf.

His tunes are pretty heavy,
his voice gets a little jarring after a while.

What else..

I just made eye contact with some dude across the hall.

He took it upon himself to shave his beard off today,
because of this he's been hounded by dudes shouting at him,
saying his face looks like a big white pussy.

:D

Whenever i listen to blues music in here,
i can't help either laughing or smiling to myself
at the irony of the situation.

Looking around the room..

Bars on windows..

Jumpsuits..

A grimey-ass mirror..

It's like one of them American jail movies.

Then add the Blues..

Just like in them jail movies.

Except i'm actually here.

IN the fucking jail.

An it ain't no fucking movie!!

:(

Add a 260 pound cellmate..

Shit..

At least the beginning of the end is
starting to come into view..

About FUCKING TIME too..

I can't even take a fucking
DUMP in peace anymore..

"That n****r Timdog in there cashin' a cheque to one of them muscle fitness books!! No bullshit!!"

"Yo Thas' BRAYZEE my n****r!!"

Idiot.

First off..

Aint NO cheques getting motherfucking cashed in the MIDDLE
OF THE DAY while a squad of MORONS are outside the fucking door..

That's some next tramp move..

An SECONDLY..

Absolute fucking retards.

I ain't been down THAT long..

"This n****r was cashin' out to a National Geographic! Lookin' at how to disect a FROG! FREAK N****R!"

It's gotta be said though..

No pussy for two years..

Madame palm is starting to really lose her sex appeal.

I dun tried dressing her up in new garms..

Giving the dirty slag a make over..

But it ain't working and the bitch just looks pure busted.

I dun busted her ass so many times now she's beyond loose,
an no matter what kind of contortions i be twistin' the bitch
she ain't doin' nothing for me no more..

SHIT man..

Some days i end up just looking down,
an my dick looks back up me with this pathetic look on his face..

He just looks so fucking disapointed in its master..

He looks back up at me and asks me..

"What the FUCK is the point.."

I have no answer..

When life has crumbled away to the point where
you are jerking a completely un-interested piece of
meat-clad tubing to the same weak-ass softcore porno
magazine for years on end..

FUCK man..

...

Should i put the pen down?

Mostly probably.

But words keep coming to me..

This blue pen is also weaving them together
so effortlessly that i don't really CARE
what the content is anymore or how the
fuck i sound talking about this shit..

My back is throwing a spanner in the works though,
about eighty per cent of my writing and drawing is put
together while in a cross-legged position on my steel bed..

An i can tell you for free,
Sitting like this does my
spine no favours..

Even Yoga stretches are proving
to be pretty pointless, each time i do i get worried as
i hear about a thousand little cracks and pieces of my
flesh snapping into different positions..

It's a little worrying i must admit..

I should really stop writing..

Sooner or late it's going to take a trip south..

A predictable re-hash of a a prior memory or experience..

An unconvincing attempt at masking resent towards prior aquaintances..

Perhaps talking about what i have planned for the future?

:/

No that's probably not a good idea either..

Its like an extreme dick-tease.

:(

So yeah..

I might as well brush my teeth and tongue (you're supposed to)..

Do the rest of my monotomous regime that i've been doing for
the last thousand million days i been held captive in here..

Then lay in the dark..

Staring at the ceiling..

Once every thousand years

Just finished putting together some letters..

I need to piss but my knee is giving me the asshole today.

Each time i clumb off the bed it starts whining..

So i'm gonna long it off til i REALLY need to go.

It's more than likely the running.

In such a small space..

Unless you're running ultra slow/lame..

You can't help but running at an angle,
and my knee seems to have deemed that shit
Haram and is in full protest mode right now.

I think running like this is
starting to push the cartiledge out of my knee.

:/

I'm trying to take my mind off it right now by putting
these sketches and letters together..

-Lisa

-Elliot

-Frank

-Lottie

-Lewis

-Barry

-Stig

-Theo

-Sykes

-Phil

-Andrew

-Ivan

-Keely

-Rob

-Katherine

-Maureen and John

-Revekka

-Ozer and Michelle/My parents

-Liz and Tim/My Godparents

-Gabrielle

-Timmo

-Maisie

-Pete in Australia

-Steve D

-Very talented individual who put together that deep blank ink piece with all the drips (no address/name)

-Person with very good taste who sent me 'The Filth' comic book (no address/name)

Thankyou for the support you've all given me lately.

Things are certainly not easy at the moment.

The little bits people have been doing for me have
helped to take my mind off things and bring some peace
of mind concerning what's coming up in the next month or so.

-Sending me books/magazines/comics..

-keeping in touch through emails/letters/on the phone..

-Putting together character references..

-Sending me sketches and photos in the mail..

It's really appreciated.

Please keep it coming.

Tim

x