Prison Diary (3) (La Cabaña Prison) / Ángel Santiesteban

Photo: Alejandro Azcuy

AFTER THE MONTHS IN THE CELL you come to terms with the loneliness. Then things get better. You get used to knowing that a few steps from you there are other miserable beings who weep, pray and beg that their stay in this incredibly quiet place will end some time. Nothing is forever, however much it may seem so.

The best is when you feel like masturbating, stretching out the moment of orgasm, going over each image stored in your mind, time passes and it seems as if you’ve escaped from that place, leaving you with the feeling of having been, for a time, far beyond those four walls; in these moments you believe that in reality you possess your wife, that she screams from pleasure and desperation; unconsciously you smell under your armpits, strangely that smell of sweat reminds you of your wife, you pass your fingers between your buttocks and that also reminds you, you feel you are going to explode, and she holds you back, she goes back over your body with her tongue, afterward you lie down and do the same, from your neck down to your toes, then you return slowly, going back over those contours you have already licked, it is a ritual that requires all your concentration; you go back and stop yourself, wanting the time not to pass, you already know that after the orgasm it’s worse, that the semen makes you nauseated, depresses you and you want to scream at them to take you back to your house.

August 24, 2010