Welcome again to Gilbert's Secret Voice Place, the networking forum for people from places where they're not allowed to speak. This piece has come through to us from a country where this form of electronic communication is not allowed. It has been transcribed - verbatim - by a reliable source, but its accuracy has not been verified. We reproduce it here without comment. You may well have your views on this item. We at Gilbert's Secret Voice Place welcome your comments. Please check tomorrow for another secret story.
"Well, we have another one for it tomorrow. It brings me no pleasure, let me state that immediately. But it is necessary.
I've been wondering: why does he smile like that?
They say he's mad, but everyone knows they're just trying to get him off. Nobody wants to die.
But I still don't know why he smiles like that. Is he really mad, perhaps?
We have to watch our step, especially around here, next to bad neighbours. People don't realise that. Anyway, what do they know, these complainers, these people who illegally imported drugs into our country and caused war as a result? They used to tell us what to do. Well, now, the boot's on the other foot.
When he talks, he rambles. That is what the translator tells me.
It's so simple now. No more shots to the back of the head. One quick injection and they're away, away to wherever it is they think they go to. Nice and quick and impersonal. By using more drugs, that's the irony.
Oh, this country is so big, and so complicated. So many countries on the border. So many enemies. So what do they know, sounding off like they do? Is it they who have to suffer the consequences of these evil actions? Where would it all end, if we did nothing? My daughter said… No, enough. My job is not to predict, just to carry out instructions.
He shuffles around in a daze, as if he doesn't belong on this planet.
Oh, let's be honest, he's mad all right, as far as I'm concerned, but what does it matter? Just another pebble thrown down the well. No damage done, but not in the way anymore.
He seems to think there's a better place to go to. There are others in this country who have that belief.
They say the judges laughed in court when he tried to speak. I wouldn't know; I wasn't there. I have my own affairs to take care of. My daughter… No matter. He's had nuns and priests testifying for him, apparently. Do they think that counts for anything in this godless country?
The translator says that he says he wanted to speak to the world. Well, he's got his wish now.
And at least this country remains godless, thank God. Sorry, slip of the tongue there. Some people try to claim there are too many people in this country - if it is a single country - but killing 25,000 of them with a single bag of drugs is no way to do it. They're all rising up now to protest, but where have they been in the past two years since he was arrested? Silent. Silent. Silent. What can they do, anyway? We make all their stuff, far cheaper than they can, and they're as addicted to possessions as others are to heroin. A thing my daughter said… Well, again, no matter.
He seems peaceful but agitated at the same time.
It will snow tomorrow, that I can predict. Some things are certain. And there is nothing further to be done today. So now I must go to try and find my daughter."
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