I was born into a little room, and it is a blessing and a refuge. I was given food, a soft matt to kick back on, a sexy pillow... It's a new little room - it looks as if someone else has been living in here - I call it "here", if it has a name. Iron door and a window that don't open. A bread roll, oats'n honey, tea, and a day all to my own. I do realize, only kings and queens can afford to lay and do nothing all day. I must have been some kind of a pet in a past life, because I vaugely remember other days like this. 365 x 43 = days like this ALL good, but I do feel this one will be a wee bit better. When I was older and beleived what I was told, I had bad days. Then I found out mymes had no bad days, just days, and all the mymes could call them whatever they wanted. They could WILL into the play of all good DAY ALWAYS

Charles Manson, December 2011

Transcript from postcard