"Some day a real rain will come and wash the scum off of the streets."
Getting back to Travis, this just goes to show how crazy Travis really is. The rain won't kill the rats because you know they can swim out of anything, nor would it affect the rest of us that God and everyone else has been trying to drown since the day we were born. And to think that I've been waiting four years to see that movie...actually, three years and ten months with good behavior. Fuck "Star Wars," this was all I heard about in the joint, and this? This was just a let-down.
I just had to walk out on a showing of “Raging Bull” right now, because the last thing I want to do is spend my second day out of the joint with some asshole exactly like the ones I was in lock-up with. The certifiables crazies that have no "off-switch," you know. You let that animal mentality stay with you for too long and you can't adjust back into society, and getting back into society is just what I want to do this time around.
I’m happy to walk in the rain again, and the touch of a woman will happen as soon as I can get twenty-five bucks together. I want to be able to sleep in, to eat when I want to eat, and to take a bath instead of a shower. The pisser of it all is that I know that it's not a question of if I'm going back to prison, but when. I’ve spent more time in state-run institutions than I have as a free individual, so I know my die is cast. Go straight to jail, do not pass Go and do not collect $200.
I can’t hold a normal conversation with anyone, but I know how to use the fewest words necessary to put the fear of God in them for the rest of their lives. I don’t know which fork or spoon to use at a dinner, but if it came down to it, I could take someone out but permanently, with either utensil in seconds. I wouldn’t know the path of the straight and narrow if it ran right over me, yet I know opportunity way before it even gets up to the porch and puts its knuckles to the door.
Take that brand-new 1981 Buick Regal across the street. It has a broken-out window just behind the driver’s side and it’s been idling there for about two minutes. Even though the windows are pretty fogged-over, I can tell the driver is fidgety. If there is anything I’ve learned from my short stint in the Boy Scouts, it’s how to cuss, how to smoke, and to “Be Prepared.”
Like when I cut through a high school track meet the other day, and helped myself to a spare starter’s pistol when everyone’s eyes were fixated on a heated race. And I always wear a hooded sweatshirt because carrying around a ski mask when you have a record, is just begging for the cops to frame you for the one thing you didn’t do. Now, the fact that no one has left that bank for the last two minutes, coupled with the Buick, tells me that opportunity is about to kick in the door like a cop with two alimonies and a warrant, and I’m going to be the one to capitalize right here on someone else’s hard work and planning.
It’s a damn shame though; they ran a trailer for “Raging Bull” just before “Taxi Driver” and it seems like that’s going to be my kind of movie. It’s a pity because I doubt I can stay out of the joint until December.