Status Updates From Homens na Prisão

Here I am back in a cell. Alone. Minutes, hours, days slip away with terrifying insubstantiality. Months will pass away like this, and years. Life! The problem of time is everything. Nothing distinguishes one hour from the next: The minutes and hours fall slowly, torturously.

Man imprisoned differs from man in general even in his outward appearance. Prison marks him from the very first hour ... papers, notebook, letters, snapshots, everything that characterizes a man, the little objects that accumulate around his private life -- all this is taken from him.