The
Cell
Your
bathroom is three feet away from your bed and is more suitable to ultra-modern
art instead of a simple toilet and sink.
It is made of steel and the sink and toilet are conjoined. There is no
toilet seat and believe me, the seat stays cold.
There exists no more sun, sky, or
birds in this world. For you can no
longer see the outside. Often you wonder
if the world even exists anymore. You have a so-called skylight that shows a
maintenance corridor and a frosted glass window partition in which you can only
tell if it is light or dark outside.
You are now living in a world where
it seems that everyone is on a different schedule than you are. When you want
some peace and quiet it is loud and hard to organize you thoughts or sleep, or
vice versa. It is a place where each day becomes a mirror image of the one
before. It is a void in time where you
don’t really live anymore; you simply exist.
It is a place where the only thing you have to look forward to is a
letter and maybe a couple of photos from a friend or loved one. Anything to
bring life into your domain or to change the monotony of this existence. For “In this place, tomorrow is just like
today”
Written June 4, 2003 by
anonymous
 |
| Waupun Cell |
 |
| outside recreation |
 |
| above two cell drawings by artist prisoner in UPS MAX CO 2014 |
