I hate this lamp!
My sleep is shallow at best.
2-3 seconds full blast every quarter hour.
Square glass piece above the door.
One of the call boys flicks it on from the outside.
You can hear his breath behind the door looking through the spyhole.
I’m grumpy today.
Good thing Bully Schubert is not here.
Dirk’s interrogator also has a name: Schubert. No joke.
Baby Schubert asks about my school time again.
And the day before I came here.
And my parents.
“Why are we doing this?”
“To spot inconsistencies.”
“So you think I’m lying?”
The famous question about the 3-pager manifesto copies comes up several times.
They must be scared that they’ll find it in the BILD Zeitung tomorrow.
Or they want to add a charge. Well, yes… THAT’s it!
Am I too tired or does that make sense?
More charges is good for them.
Do they want me out or down?
I need to discuss this with someone.
Dirk is clueless.
Mario it is.
More repetitive questions.
Back in the cell in the evening.
Tap code with Mario into the night.
§214 is clear: ‘Interference with state activity.’
I “earned” that when handing in the letter and conducting hunger strike.
2 years give or take.
What if they add on §219?
‘Collaboration with a foreign power’.
Threatening only would almost certainly mean the same sentence as conducting it.
And they hate the West.
Nothing under 3 years.
5 years await.
Another stupid night
Thoughts and light.
Anger and sorrow.
Hate that stupid lamp!