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The Life of Pæral Naitolos
Entry 29 (January 24, 1920)

Entry 29 (January 24, 1920)

I think that Communist Red Scare is finally fading out. There are fewer alleged communists, socialists, and anarchists being sent here. The prisoners sent here in the past few months are rapists, murderers, frauds, cheats, crazy people (though I heard they are being transferred to the newly created asylum), robbers, thieves, arsonists, kidnappers, and two people who sold merchandise without paying the tariff. I supposed I am a murderer too ever since that war; the ghast and ghosts of that war still haunt my dreams. However, I am not included in the hierarchy they consolidated. It is about toughness here (though incomparable to the war), and the person who punches the hardest is on the top of the pyramid. My role is “some guy you do not want to mess with”. True that in the entire last year, I barely talked to anyone (and always got my information by eavesdropping). Behind the prison guard’s eyes, I almost crippled some buff-looking guy acting tough who tried to take my belly timber forcefully. Since then after the news spread, people would just avoid me. I am like a rogue king with no kingdom. It is not like I wanted this, but people avoid me whenever I get within a six feet radius of them, almost like I was a plague in the shadow cast one hundred years from now.

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I am forty-five years old this year, yet people doubt how a “young man” such as myself has “so much experience fighting.” I guess my constitution is just that way. I even made certain no prison guard saw me, yet even the prison guards avoided me like the prisoners. How am I supposed to betoken that I am on “good behavior” if there is no one to witness me?

At least, my mother’s ardent effort at anti-alcohol finally yielded fruit. Prohibition of alcohol had been written into the Constitution just last week. That is at least one piece of good news. I hope there will be more good news when I get released from prison.