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(Created page with "And it doesn't end with the day - At night the prisoners all sleep in a large dormitory and aberrant sex, perouous? and savage, is rife. I have been forced to choose a "pr...")
 
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In the sex thing, I have always been a party of pale passions, a dilletante and a dabbler in the shallows, and this disastrous plunge into such a storm of violent and
In the sex thing, I have always been a party of pale passions, a dilletante and a dabbler in the shallows, and this disastrous plunge into such a storm of violent and
primitive emotions has caused me often to fear for my mental balance. As it is, most of the time I am actually physically sick from fear and apprehension.
primitive emotions has caused me often to fear for my mental balance. As it is, most of the time I am actually physically sick from fear and apprehension.
  It sounds horribly overblown and melodramatic, I know, but the truth as calmly and quietly as I can tell it is that I must get away or I do not know what will happen. Much more of this I cannot take.
  Please write, Jack, mail is the one contact I have with a same world I have almost forgotten exists. Incoming mail is not opened and I am "flying" this letter out.
            Sincerely,
              Jim Blake.

Latest revision as of 23:45, 28 June 2021

And it doesn't end with the day - At night the prisoners all sleep in a large dormitory and aberrant sex, perouous? and savage, is rife. I have been forced to choose a "protector" in this grotesque game, and ex-pugilist with a background of varied incarcerations, who, though flamboyantly handsome, is viciously narcissive and sadistic. This strange arrangement has resulted in beatings, pummelings and arm-twistings until I feel that I am trapped, unable to awake, in some endless nightmare. In the sex thing, I have always been a party of pale passions, a dilletante and a dabbler in the shallows, and this disastrous plunge into such a storm of violent and primitive emotions has caused me often to fear for my mental balance. As it is, most of the time I am actually physically sick from fear and apprehension.

 It sounds horribly overblown and melodramatic, I know, but the truth as calmly and quietly as I can tell it is that I must get away or I do not know what will happen. Much more of this I cannot take.
 Please write, Jack, mail is the one contact I have with a same world I have almost forgotten exists. Incoming mail is not opened and I am "flying" this letter out.
            Sincerely,
              Jim Blake.