You will never know, Dear Non-Reader, how important you were to me in my days—years—of incarceration. Even if you have not been there, the idea that you were there kept me going. Let this blog, this long, shocking work of secretive and pleading exposition and photography, stand as an expose of what I saw, heard, touched, tasted, lived: Soybean Island.
Yes, today
TODAY
I am on my way to Dustmitetown and a cargo plane full of rutabagas. And dust.
Not even secret snow symbols put out for me by the Eye-Nye-Hab Descendants will deter me from my escape.
A new life; A life regained.
They interest me no more than the orange cones of Soybean Island City:
or drainage:
Fencing:
The Secret Rooms of a Spying Culture:
And their diversionary artworks:
No, I will—I am—out in the snowy reaches heading to Dustmitetown and my ticket to the Free World.
Again, I think you do not believe me, think that I am either foolishly wrong or purposefully wrong.
Neither!
Today I will board a cargo jet. I have a special Purple Card that will allow me to be counted as a rutabaga. Certainly they will see that I am not a rutabaga, but they will believe the card over their own eyes. They will do as the card tells them; such is life on a prisoner island. Yes! I will be on a plane leaving for I Do Not Know Where. But, I will like it in I Do Not Know Where. I will be happy. I promise myself this.
Dear Non-Reader, you will never hear from me again.
I will no longer send these missives, this cri du coeur, this attempt to disclose and discover, and to seek help and salvation from, this cruel and invisible territory.
I cannot chance it.
This is my final correspondence.
And then?
I am gone:
A ghost.
A phantom.
A wallaby.
Yet, as a journalist, I must leave you with a final image. And with this image I finally reveal the complete headquarters of The Apparatus:
 |
| Visit Soybean Island |
See it!
Know it!
Remember it!
Do not let it happen again!
Oneninefiveseven over and out and disappeared,
Goodbye To Soybean Island
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