Out

I shared Matthias’ most valuable item with the comrades.

2 kilos of finest Darjeeling tea.

8 packs.

 

Breakfast alone sucks.

Emigration aplication after the shift.

I can hardly write with the hurting arm.

 

It’s my third ‘application’.

I just want to be sure that I am heard loud and clear.

Whatever you write in here is being thoroughly read, judged and forwarded.

One of three 'emigration applications' which only served one purpose in the GDR: make known that you are unwilling to continue your life in that country. It marked people and set them up for repression and road blocks and for surveillance by the Stasi. Officially those applications should not have been necessary as the GDR ratified all international treaties to guarantee freedom and liberty. Of course everyone knew that this was ignored and violated by the regime.

One of three 'emigration applications' which only served one purpose in the GDR: make known that you are unwilling to continue your life in that country. It marked people and set them up for repression and road blocks and for surveillance by the Stasi. Officially those applications should not have been necessary as the GDR ratified all international treaties to guarantee freedom and liberty. Of course everyone knew that this was ignored and violated by the regime.


So, these three pages will land in the hands of a Stasi officer.

It will be on top of my file when they review for release.

I need to be a noisy nuisance to them.


Dropping the letter in the guards office downstairs.

Looking for that chess champion.

I could use a challenge.


“They called him out this morning, lucky guy.”

So much for a proper game of chess.

And so much for my mood.