Letter from anarchist prisoner Nikos Romanos – Greece

Thoughts from the bonds of captivity…

 With the final destination our internal demons…

 Resident in the land of frozen time for almost a year now, the ice has now spread through my body. Monotonous daily repetitive moves, general immobility. Here borders are transformed into iron doors and walls.

 Walking in the yard, forty steps top-to-bottom thirty five steps left-to-right. Then the wall. Up down, up down, left right, left right. After a while you start to memorize creepy details from the stone borders that are stopping you from making your forty first step, where various scribbles are, where each bump is. I think that it makes sense since I meet them numerous times in front of me.

 The clock I hide in my body, has frozen too. Even if I know that my time is counting backwards, I’m troubled, the mathematical calculations of my prison time here disgust me. 3/5 for full release, 1/3 of the sentence for a leave, you have this much prison with working days, this much without them.

I always hated the mathematics which define my life. If I had an inclination towards that I would probably never have chosen such a life. A simple equation from the bureaucrats of revolutionary logistics would have convinced me. Anarchy + urban guerrilla= illegality= death or prison, they would have said and now believe that that were proven right. I would tell them to leave me alone then and now. Human life does not fit into fractions and equations. And the passion for freedom is not haunted by any ghost of capitulation. Simple like the mathematics equations of defeat I despise so much.

برای ادامه خواندن اینجا کلیک کنید.