The night time is the worst.

Within a world which contains so little, I find myself clinging to what is there; growing more present to the slightest changes in my meagre environment. When the daylight starts to fade in the evening, which happens earlier and earlier under the gathering cloak of Autumn, I can actually feel the waves of darkness changing the atmosphere in my cell.

Light to darkness . . . an exemplar of the polarity that underlies manifestation of the world of ‘things’. I must return to deeper thoughts on this; but not today. Today I must enter the world of ‘not things’ and try to use the brutal facts of my imprisonment to help me find meaning in my new life . . . it’s a big ask, but the alternative is unthinkable.

The twilight is both the best and the worst time of day; the best because the…