Here it is, day 70 bajillion (frankly, I’ve lost count) of this whole social distancing, shelter in place, stay-the-eff-away-from-me experiment of ours. I’m not ashamed to say that I’m losing my freakin’ mind. I’m so bored I’m inventing new ways to clip my toenails. (Don’t ask.)
This must be what it’s like to be a prisoner in solitary confinement. If so, it’s an unbelievably harsh punishment. But it goes right along with what I’ve been saying for most of my life: the death penalty is not the worst thing that can happen to a person. In fact, it’s probably a blessed relief for some.
No. I say that if you truly want to punish those who have committed the most heinous crimes, put them in prison and let them rot. That is hell on earth.
I won’t even get into the fact that everything involved with the death penalty is more expensive than incarcerating someone for life. It’s not even worth mentioning that zapping the life out of a person doesn’t bring true closure to the victim’s loved ones. These facts have been proven over and over again.
I’m just saying that making someone go through what we’re all going through at the moment, and then adding no end in sight to it, and the fact that your fellow inmates probably want to kill you, and then having no windows to gaze out of and no access to Netflix on top of that steaming pile is all that they deserve.
So, if anyone ever kills me, please don’t kill them. Just let their minds shrivel up from lack of hope. Let their nerves feel like they’re on the surface of their skin 24 hours a day. Let them want to be anywhere but where they are for the rest of their lives. That will feel like justice to me.
The View from a Drawbridge 