Death Blog

 

Mark 911 2
Texas Death Row   October 19, 2009  2:00am
Welcome to my nightmare… Tales from a Dead Man   The day has started off calm for me, I have once again awoken to the sense of amazement, I spent the night dreaming of past experiences of my life, these events took place in the 80’s.  What a wonderful night it was. To be awoke now, in this evil place is indeed depressing and alarming. Reality comes crashing in. My sole purpose is to be executed by the State. Hell just saying it sours the taste in my morning coffee. What a wonderful day to be alive.   The silence of the morning has just been shattered by screams of someone in the next section over. It echoes off these concrete walls I sit here and find myself getting angry, eyes blazing with maniacal conviction. It’s my quiet time and I do take offense to it being disturbed. How crazy is that folks? Then again if I was the one over there screaming in my sleep I could understand, because the one who is actually doing it is being attacked in his dreams. Haunted. For he is here for slicing an 11 year gold girls throat. I can’t even being to think straight. The horrors of this place, the demon’s, the monsters, they are real. Every time this person walks around in the day room I want to puke. How can someone kill a little girl by slicing her throat and then walk around as a tough guy.   I wish I could crawl back into my sleep, into those happy dreams I was having of my Grandpa and Grandma. Riding our horses, riding on the tractor next to Grandpa. My hero! What a mess I’ve made of things, but as they say: Into each life some rain must fall.   True American Mark Stroman

Here is  Mark ‘s new blogDeath Blog Texas Death Row   October 19, 2009  2:00am   Welcome to my nightmare… Tales from a Dead Man   The day has started off calm for me, I have once again awoken to the sense of amazement, I spent the night dreaming of past experiences of my life, these events took place in the 80’s.  What a wonderful night it was. To be awoke now, in this evil place is indeed depressing and alarming. Reality comes crashing in. My sole purpose is to be executed by the State. Hell just saying it sours the taste in my morning coffee. What a wonderful day to be alive.   The silence of the morning has just been shattered by screams of someone in the next section over. It echoes off these concrete walls I sit here and find myself getting angry, eyes blazing with maniacal conviction. It’s my quiet time and I do take offense to it being disturbed. How crazy is that folks? Then again if I was the one over there screaming in my sleep I could understand, because the one who is actually doing it is being attacked in his dreams. Haunted. For he is here for slicing an 11 year gold girls throat. I can’t even being to think straight. The horrors of this place, the demon’s, the monsters, they are real. Every time this person walks around in the day room I want to puke. How can someone kill a little girl by slicing her throat and then walk around as a tough guy.   I wish I could crawl back into my sleep, into those happy dreams I was having of my Grandpa and Grandma. Riding our horses, riding on the tractor next to Grandpa. My hero! What a mess I’ve made of things, but as they say: Into each life some rain must fall.

True American Mark Stroman

American Boy

 

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