🌐🌐🌐“The Shit Ticket Codex”🌐🌐🌐 👁 By Felonious Academic👁

“The Shit Ticket Codex”

👁 By Felonious Academic👁

⚜️ Still breathing. Still writing. Still the quiet after the shot⚜️

👁👁👁Listen hear, son. This isn't just jailhouse lore. This is the last prayer a man made before the lights die, or he does.

👁👁👁In the early 2000s, when the state had me in solitary at 49th street penitentiary, with concrete walls breathing cold, I didn't write a postcard home. I didnt what every man does when he loses all devine faith, he carves a gospel.

👁👁👁Every night, after the clang of trays and the last echo of bootsfading after count I'd go and peel back that state issue “Bob Barker” roll like it was skin. No pen, just the ghost of a worn Sharpie I'd boiled down to dwindling gray water, the kind of color only prisoners know. I'd press it fuckin flat against the damn floor, knees all bruised, heart hammering like a beating code. Page one, the drop.

👁👁👁“You enter gen pop slow, shoulders low, yet eyes high,mLike you're already walking out the other side.”

👁👁👁 The script says, Let them think you're broken. Let them think you're theirs. Page two: the codes. Not gang tattoos or secret handshakes, real motherfuckin ones. The kind that might save your ass from that buck50 across The cheek. The kind you life by, and or die bye, depends how it's implemented.

👁👁👁One was Like Cough as if you've got the plague, when theres easy prey around for the predators to exploit.

👁👁👁Others mantras were less makavellian more motivating like,

👁👁👁“in here we pray everyday, you either praying to, or getting preyed on. Pray its the first option.”

👁👁👁 The warden, big ol bastard with a football coach esque voice like hes 👁👁👁always got his wifes dick in his mouth, says,

👁👁👁“Power's not the gun, It's the silence after.”

👁👁👁 That's not dialogue. That's the fuckboy doctrine. That's how you tolerate them without chokingto submission, other then that, orThey'll break 👁👁👁your body before your word. So make your word worth yiur life.

👁👁👁 I wrote it all on toilet paper roll, turning it into a motherfuckin toilet paper scroll. that's all we had. I whined the roll back tight, layered it like a everyday thing of shit tickets, and hide it either in the laundry carts with the new toiletries or guise it in a choosen stoll in the shitter.

👁👁👁theres technically been Three different copies Scribed during that 9 month stint, due to it being discovered causality of a random shake down. One was confiscated causing serious suspension from the guards when the convinced themselves the contraband was something more then life advice for future inmates down.

👁👁👁 They found the first. Fuckin Burned it. Laughed like DOC cucks. Thought they won. But your boy had 9 months to polish my so called handbook, to a god forsaken philosophy gangsters and degenerates alike could respect.

👁👁👁Red Dog, He practically memorized it to translate himself a copy when he transfers to prison. I never knew if he ever actually did. its the lost manuscript of the damned for damned they are. I know it's not your traditional scripture, ut theres no church in the wild.

👁👁👁The lessons aren't pretty For lifes the ugliest bitch of them all.

👁👁👁 “Trust no one, including yourself. People lie to themselves more often then people.”

👁👁👁Though it said alot of different Felonious Psalms the codex was essentially trying everso hard to drive one point,

👁👁👁that The real crime isn't breaking the law. It's letting them break you.

👁👁👁I got out that year. At that point, the roll had spread across 4 out of the 6 wings of the penitentiary. Other pods started implementing their own codes of conduct making me feel like i affected these thugs and low lifes to set boundariesand order to their turmoilchous life.

👁👁👁I cant remember alot of what i scrivened but i do remember how i ended the last square off the roll of TP,

👁👁👁“these are the got-to-knows the first and last taste of freedom youll obtain til your numbers called to roll it up. We write our own code, not to hydrate thirst with ice cold power and control, but to reject from it.