I have been desperate to escape for so many years now, it is routine for me to try to escape
I have been desperate to escape for so many years now, it is routine for me to try to escape.
I have been desperate to escape for so many years now, it is routine for me to try to escape.
I find it painful and angering to look in a mirror.
Imagine a thousand more such daily intrusions in your life, every hour and minute of every day, and you can grasp the source of this paranoia, this anger that could consume me at any moment if I lost control.
When I’m forced by circumstances to be in a crowd of prisoners, it’s all I can do to refrain from attack.
When they talk of ghosts of the dead who wander in the night with things still undone in life, they approximate my subjective experience of this life.
To be in prison so long, it’s difficult to remember exactly what you did to get there.
One morning I woke up and was plunged into psychological shock. I had forgotten I was free.
Because there is something helpless and weak and innocent – something like an infant – deep inside us all that really suffers in ways we would never permit an insect to suffer.
As long as I am nothing but a ghost of the civil dead, I can do nothing.
Paranoia is an illness I contracted in institutions. It is not the reason for my sentences to reform school and prison. It is the effect, not the cause.