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January 21, 2012
The sham of a trial. 

Night falls hard on a dog house. You only got your own ass to keep you warm. You ever slept on concrete? You ever cried all night? 

A dream: When the great man's hand appeared I regarded it: Up! Up! And he skritched me. I never bit, never bit; even when the hand struck.

They called me a sinner. Me! A good boy. I know I am. I was called good boy, once. Before the man. "Good boy, who's a good boy; you are yes you are."

That's who I am. 

—Forgive me!