Here's a theory: prison is bad because it deprives us of comforts that are not quite necessary. Here, I don't have to work, and I am warm and safe and fed with nutritious food and given clean water and I can wash myself and my surroundings are hygienic. Besides those things, however, I don't have a lot of comforts, and I have fewer distractions. I have lots of time to think about what I lack - and as a prisoner, it is expected of me that I will reflect on what I lack. Thus I become obsessed with the desire for a window, a plant, a radio, or more exotic pleasures: a drink, a car to drive, a conversation, cricket, a kiss. I crave status, too. My other desires feel like expressions of this. Status = power + society. I want control over things and I want people to talk to - preferably people that will cherish and uphold my control.
Why does this make prison bad? Because with enough of this treatment, people that come out of prison might not go back to being who they were. They might be more selfish. That's my theory. Prison isn't so much bad for prisoners while imprisoned (although it isn't great); it's bad for society because it creates men and women with too much respect for their own desires.
I'm not so sure this theory is right. It doesn't strike me as convincing. I'm not convinced. In fact, I'm tired, I'm finding it hard to think. I've been getting lethargic. I came up with the theory because I needed something to write, or I believed I did. I believed - or I think I believed - I can't quite remember - that this writing ritual was something I relied on. Do I believe that now? I don't know what I believe. I'm angry with myself because I can't quite think straight. I think I've been sleeping too much in the day.
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