The other inmates stand in a long straight line, flanked by guards, and I am dragged past them. I do not respect them, because they will not run – will not try to escape.

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.

I have been desperate to escape for so many years now, it is routine for me to try to escape.

Nothing is over and done with. Nothing. Not even your malice.

My eyes, my brain seek out escape routes wherever I am sent.

To be in prison so long, it’s difficult to remember exactly what you did to get there.

A man can live without any other thing, but he cannot live without hope.

That is how prison is tearing me up inside. It hurts every day. Every day takes me further from my life.

One morning I woke up and was plunged into psychological shock. I had forgotten I was free.

As long as I am nothing but a ghost of the civil dead, I can do nothing.