BLUEPHORIA
When they ask you where I’ve gone, just tell them I’ve gone crazy. Crazy isn’t a mental condition, it’s locations in Florida, correctional institutions. When you go crazy, you run into people who suffer from feelings of Bluephoria. That’s a state of well being, being property of the state. Well, what else do you call a man who is proud he has more letters on his ID than letters from home?
Crazy
Bluephoria victims think it’s better to be somebody in prison instead of being there for somebody outside of prison. I don’t want to be here so I try to sleep at least 8hrs out of every 24. I feel like I’m cheating the state out of a third of my sentence. Not so for the Bluephorics, they can’t get enough of this place, so they religiously amp up their amphetamine intake until we call them Methodist. Faces grimacing, muscles twitching until even Mr year and a day looks like he’s done 969. Yeah Methuselah, look what a meth you’ve made of yourself.
That’s crazy.
Another symptom of Bluephoria is you can be anything you want to be. You’ll never meet an addict because now they are all Drug Lords, Kingpins, Weight movers and Suppliers. Then they ask my poor az to give them a scoop of the foulest, cheapest coffee known to incarceration. Like Coke, “you da real thang”, but you couldn’t make a Columbian connection with a cup of Juan Valdez and the international area code.
And that’s just Crazy.
They say the definition of crazy is watching the same rerun, expecting a different ending. So Bluephoria victims Bounce into the day room and dribble coffee on the floor. From the free throw line they aim the remote, hoping “White men can’t jump” onto “The money train” and ride it “From the cradle to the grave”. How many times do you have to “Witness Madea’s protection” before you realize that “ Swordfish “ don’t eat Hallie Berries outside of the “Barbershop”?
Crazy
People who suffer from feelings of Bluephoria say this place is sweet, the whole time staring into the teeth of a machine designed for our decay No wisdom, all incisors, snipping off bytes of our lives. Leaving the bitter aftertaste of visos that sour our souls as we see loved ones grow and age with artificially Splenda smiles, because there’s no Equal to being out there with them. Yeah that’s sweet!
Nah, that’s Crazy.
Like Arkam Jokers are seeking asylum from reality, running wild pretending they’re Kings and Queens while Jacking that one eye’d straight until they’re flushed. So infamous for they’re crooked games, they have to show their hands while female officers are on the wing. Can’t ante up , but still trying to grab the pot and choosing the wrong way to prove they’ve got a pair.
You know that’s Crazy.
The most advanced instances of Bluephoria are sad cases known as Bluetentants. More police than the police and don’t even draw a paycheck. They have more face time with the C.O.s than a web can.They Zoom to private meetings with more information than Google. Spouses and Alexa are both jealous because the C.O.s call the Bluetentant’s name instead and in bed. You see when they’re involved, somebody’s getting screwed. That’s why they’re called IN-MATE.
That’s just crazy. So when they ask you where I’ve gone? Just tell them I’ve gone ...You know.
(Footnote: in Florida, prisoners wear blue uniforms)