I am a prisonner. I do not always feel it, I often forget it, but the fact remains, no matter how beautiful it is, no matter how content I feel on certain days, no matter how accustumed I become to the situation, I live in a prison. Lived in a prison. Perhaps I still do. One would think this desert island to be more of a prison than living in society, but liberty is a relative concept. Society is a prison. It is those who are different who realize it. I am more free here on the small island where space is limited than many places I have been before.
Repression, I have felt. I have been the target of attacks. Here, on my island, there is neither.