I’ve been thinking for a while now how to write about my experience within these walls, and I feel like my words can do no justice. This is a sad place. Fascinating. But sad. How am I supposed to write about the thousands who spent part of their lives behind these walls? I can’t.
Sure, I can write about the structure. It’s a beautiful building. I can write about how I was excited to see the place where The Shawshank Redemption was filmed. I was very excited.
But now, looking back at the pictures I took, I only think about the people who lived here. The real people who were imprisoned here. Who sat in that chair? Who slept in that bed? These things left behind are but whispers of their lives.
I feel heavy thinking about it.
“After one has been in prison, it is the small things that one appreciates: being able to take a walk whenever one wants, going into a shop and buying a newspaper, speaking or choosing to remain silent. The simple act of being able to control one’s person.”