Freštreš Redemption Day 5463. Nobody knows about my escape. The tunnel in the yard is complete. I have to wait one more night: on Saturday the wardens will be drunk and I will be able to climb over the wall without being noticed from the tower. About time. My toothbrush is almost completely threadbare; I
Freštreš Redemption
Day 5463.
Nobody knows about my escape.
The tunnel in the yard is complete. I have to wait one more night: on Saturday the wardens will be drunk and I will be able to climb over the wall without being noticed from the tower. About time. My toothbrush is almost completely threadbare; I would never have expected it to endure 15 years of digging through 50 metres of reinforced concrete. The metal frame I simply had to bite through (only a fool could expect for a toothbrush to be any help in this case) – thank goodness I joined a Mexican gang and had my teeth sharpened and coated in diamonds in line with their superstition. It took years and cost hundreds of thousands of cigarettes to smuggle the pricy stones inside, but the Mexicans insisted, it was a tradition. The tattoos and scars that came with it turned me into the most dreaded creature in the launderette, which helped me keep my pride.
Nobody knows about my escape.
Maybe I don’t even know about it myself. I could not have dug the tunnel the way I did, in secrecy and thinking about everything, had I not, through years, began to hear, feel, see, know everything that all other brains in this block hear, feel, see, know – all the thoughts that are thought in these cells slowly begin to form a joint construction, a honeycomb, a tower that can be a match to the tower outside the prison from which prisoners are being shot in the back. Newcomers begin to enter the honeycomb, to draw from the joint consciousness; some of them begin to see things, making them think they have run mad; they are taken away in wheelchairs. Others get used to the constant ebb and flow of thoughts other than their own over the years, begin to take them as their own. Some brains even connect to security cameras, sharing with them their sight, caution, boredom. Cameras then become their friends and they get expelled from all gangs. I, however, was gradually being sent off by the honeycomb, as it learned that I would served it better outside these walls; I will therefore be replacing my monologues with speeches given in front of crowds, replacing my toothbrush with explosive, and come here to liberate people. This is my salvation.
Everybody knows about my escape.
Organised by Kino Šiška in freštreš.
