From: Dan Curtin (djc@darkmoon.moondrummer.com)
To: staff@attrition.org
Date: Fri, 24 Nov 2000 12:56:44 -0500 (EST)
Subject: A thought.
	
Squinting my eyes to see the substance within the hollow. 
I was told of abstract projections that would often keep 
my mind occupied, but my heart frozen. I walk between two 
fences wondering if I am being led to slaughter. Feeling 
enclosed and heavy under a sky that they call beautiful. 
Debating whether its' massive opposition against limitation 
keeps those of us behind bars truly free. Remembering when 
I was scolded and forced to march up creaking stairs with 
such a systematic aura. Declaration of submissive fields 
to which I try to avoid. Outcasting ones body due to the 
contamination of a single society to which is so familiar. 
Dependence on a window.. on the otherside a drab painting. 
Sometimes I can swear I have permanently left my body and 
began to travel into a void where the immense pain 
has departed with a fragile stain. I then get interrupted 
by a tapping at my window.. torture stands there looking in. 
	
-Daniel J. Curtin