Por tu amor, haria cualquier cosa!

11 May

I’m down today.

I can be positive to my heart’s content, but there will be times when I’m reminded I am still many months from any real freedom. I make some bits and pieces in the carpentry workshop for George’s furniture and then proceed to slice open two deep clean wounds with a freshly sharpened chisel.

When you see veins, you know you’ve gone too far.

I see veins

I’ve gone too far.

I bleed like a stuck pig and spend the rest of the morning with my hand clenched around an evermore reddening tissue. I learn 10 new words in my spanish studies. A phrase I pick up seems useful for any budding Casanovas:

Por tu amor, haria cualquier cosa

For your love, I would do anything


I admite to myself today a truth: writing a daily diary makes two things happen. It allows me to document every day here, a minor social commentary on a piece of life few ever experience; but it also allows me to be reminded of having to spend many more days here. The activity of writing eats up time but thinking about time served is an unwelcome commentary to my thoughts.

But I can’t stop writing this diary. What have I begun?


Two lads are called out for ‘Random’ drug testing. One of those was smoking something very odour rich at the weekend. It’s unlikely he will last the week. He could follow in the footsteps of the 14 who just escaped this weekend. Absconding as it’s known is surprisingly common. Inmates go out on town leaves, get drunk, fear landing in hot water on their return, so instead leap into a vat of boiling water and just do a runner. A convicted murderer joined the fun this weekend.

Prison is full of rumours, people with few things better to do than make up stories promoting their own false sense of importance. The mill has been working away, today’s news is that ‘Methadonians’ will be allowed into the prison from September. This will likely bring it’s own problems, with a good many suggesting we will not only need a key to our cells but also a key to the billets. It’s not a popular rumour but as time will show, it is only that.

It’s a sad truth that addiction on the world outside is a major cause of crime; the same can be said on the inside. Thieves aren’t popular, nor is the prospect of an arrival of more.

I retire to bed at the end of a drab day.



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