300 Letters - 63. Letter 62 (Who am I to complain?)

27 February 2016

Dear C,

I am sending you all the visit documents tomorrow. I have changed the tone of my letter to you. DJ advised me not to discourage you from visiting me. That I should allow you to see me here and hope for the best, but expect the worst. I guess I should let you come and talk to me about anything you want. And if you start hurting me I can always leave the visiting hall. I hope I won't have to...

I got another letter from my mum and she also encouraged me to see you and she said she was supporting our relationship (or whatever is left of it). She reminded me that nothing is too broken and everything can be fixed again.

Sometimes I cry here in my cell when I don't expect it. Just yesterday I was washing my gym shorts in the sink here and tears started to roll down my face.
I lost something that cannot be replaced. And I am not going for replicas.

Losing you made me lost my faith in love. My ability to trust anyone ever again. To open up to someone and to let them see me the way I am. It makes me sad and sometimes I panic that I will never love another human again the way I loved you. But in my imaginary world we are still together. Somewhere in some better place. You're holding my hand and we can see the stars. They're shining just for us. Now I'm looking at my hands and I know that the spaces between my fingers are just right for your hands to fit perfectly. It's so cold in my cell. I placed another request to have my tiny window checked as the left side doesn't close properly and my mattress is right next to it.

But who am I to complain?

There are people in this world who have nothing to eat or drink and have no roof over their heads. They sleep and die on the streets in hot or freezing cold cities everywhere.. Yet sometimes I feel like I am the most wronged person in the world.

They brought a new guy to our wing. He walks around talking how he murdered his girlfriend and that he chopped her head off. But apparently that was many, many years ago and this time he is here for another crime. He has been in prisons on and off for 34 years now... It makes me sad and sick. Sick more than sorry.

I don't judge him. I just don't understand how can someone take pride in killing someone... Unless he is mentally unstable and doesn't see right from wrong. It's fucked up. So fucked up. And he walked into my cell yesterday without even knocking on my door - just marched in as I was painting. He just started talking about art and how much of original artwork of some great painters he owns. He stood there talking and I was thinking to myself how to get him out from my cell.

Luckily Ben came and asked me if I watched BBC news as they showed something about Poland. I immediately turned my TV on pretending I was interested and the guy left. Then Ben came again and smiled saying he knew I needed some rescue. Thank you Ben!

Music course is going great now. I managed to record a few tracks now and Brian (orderly) was really impressed. He said that I should send my tracks to some prison art and craft competition. Yeah right. But it's nice of him to appreciate my efforts. He still doesn't believe me when I'm telling him I have never done music production before.

Most of the time I don't know what I'm doing, I just let me fingers touch the keyboard and I find sounds that are pleasing to my ears. Then I play with these sounds and I edit them adding lots of different effects. Then I join them together and create the track. It's very liberating. I love it.

The funny thing is that when I play these sounds I see colours. Each sound represents a certain colour for me. It's in my head and I often cannot describe these colours, but they are there.

How are you doing C?

I wonder how often do you still have to visit or even stay at the hospital. I hope there is no more pain in your body. I hope you are recovering. I hope you are happy.

I miss you still.

Forever yours,

Sebastian