Letter #8 from UPIII

We got a new bunch of letters from UP III to share with you!

english

Recieved 21th June 2018

JVA Köln, Saturday, 2nd June 2018

“June already?”

“...gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences in habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.” - Dumbledore, pg 784, HP 4

“The thing about growing up with Fred and George, said Ginny thoughtfully, is that you sort of start thinking anythings’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve” - Pg 577, HP5

“It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” - Dumbledore, pg 358, HP2 


Dearest friends, post control human and justice fighters worldwide,
 
prison is not easy. 

At times it is incredibly hard. I have not spoken to any old friends or blood relatives for close to three months. The silence can be deafening. 

I am luckier than most, I have been adopted here by grieving parents, missing yet another year of children’s birthdays and experiences. They call me their little forest monkey now, in full agreement of my actions and yours. 

Not having grown up with a lot of support, I am constantly and happily surprised at the solidarity shown for me both inside and outside these walls. It warms my heart. 

After recent trigger worthy events, I attempted to retreat from human contact altogether. As a measure of how well respected and loved I am here, I was persuaded out of my cell and into the most overwhelming display of protection and care I have ever experienced. My friends closed ranks, defended me, cheered me up and had me kicking back again, laughing so hard I almost cried in no time at all. I feel lighter than ever, weightless almost. 

Sometimes, I think about how crazy all this is. All I want to do is save animals, protect their homes, they have every right to live in the forest as peacefully as they have for generations. What is wrong with defending those who cannot defend themselves? What a horror it must be to be born anything other than human, yet not even all humans are equal. 

The emotional distress of the last few weeks (as the triggering action was repeated daily by an individual) has been exhausting. I have not felt myself. I have felt at a loss, confused, stressed. Unable to think clearly, you will notice my letters vary widely. (Thanks to the buffer of people now between myself and this person though, I am back and I’ve never felt better as mentioned previously. Shout out to my iron bar family!!). 

Prison also requires fluidity, emotionally and mentally. I’m often in a different mindset one day to the next, flowing with the emotions of those around me. This is another reason my letters may seem odd but I think it is more raw and authentic, nothing here is static and I want to be honest (I did think very briefly about censoring some things, which I found felt highly dishonest, my life here is neither neat nor “suitable for all audiences” and I don’t want it to be thought of that way). 

There is so much pain, despair, misery and hopelessness here I often wonder if it comes from the walls themselves. No escape. A bathtub of all ‘bad’ emotions. Soaking. Maybe dementors are real, but instead of taking good memories they give you copious amounts of activity to deal with. 

People go mad, I can see it. Whoever they were before they arrived is gone. For some it takes weeks, others months or years. If you look into their eyes, talk to them, it’s like a house with only half the lights on, a shed with only some of the tools. 

I wonder if, when they go free, if ‘they’ ( pre – prison them) will come back, or are they lost in the twenty hours plus of silence; every day, seven days a week? Did they lose themselves in the isolation? 

With the emotional pressure I almost lost myself too. I would not give up, it’s not in my nature to give in, to submit to bullying or pressure, I would sooner die than betray a promise to myself – “I will not give my name” – but I began to wonder some days who I will be the day I go free. 

They will not be the person who entered, that much I am sure. But then, who am I, if I am no longer recognizable, except in appearance, as “me”? Will I still be a joker, a tinkerer, like Fred and George Weasley, with the nerve to whole heartedly believe all I need is a goal and the rest I can work out? Will I still think that, no matter what, I can sprout and grow and learn from my mistakes, or will I be too worried to make any more? Will I still remain absolutely silent about my past, the pain I’ve been through, or will this push me to open up, to say not only “can I help?” but “I understand, because I’ve been there too”? 

Until I go free I won’t know. Another few weeks maybe, perhaps a month or two. Who knows. All I can do is take it day by day. There’s more darkness inside me, the pressure of this place, the people. 

The endless monotony of routine. I feel some days that I live on the world instead of in it. I hope it fades. 

There’s light too though. Friendship. Solidarity. Hope. 

Day 75, I am still UP. I have and can and will do this. Strength. Confidence. Courage. Love. Persistence. This is important. I will not be crushed like a bug. I will not show fear. I will not walk, head high, shoulders back, I will not look away. 

The time for ignorance is over. There is no pretending repression does not exist. That it only exists out of fear, fear of those fighting to save the planet. I am here because I said “I want a future worth living in.” Now tell me, how is wanting fresh air to breathe, clean water to drink and uncontaminated food to eat a crime? Am I wrong to want that? 

I encourage you to consider the essence of fear, the idea of it. My life has not been easy, I have suffered greatly, but everything I have survived has pushed me forward. Fear can be a fleeting emotion. Break it into steps, don’t consider the whole. 

One step at a time. Feel safe. Next step. Safety. Next step. This is how I got to Germany, only a backpack with me, a nomadic turtle. Of course I was scared, terrified even, anything and everything could go wrong. 

One step. Safety. Next step. When I do, or believe, in anything it is not in half measures. I meet challenges with boundless energy and enthusiasm, still do despite everything. That part of me still exists. I am not one for doing anything in halves, so I will remain here until the end. 

This is my second encouragement. Believe in something with your whole heart and soul. Your friends, a cause, whatever. 
Find something that sets your whole damn soul on fire, and hold it close. Know that how matter your choices, they are fighting to achieve this belief. Let it crush any oppression, any challenge in your path. 

I believe in a future that isn’t gas masks and warfare. I believe in a future of freedom, equality, all those “far fetched” dreams. I believe in the anarchists. And you best believe my fire will not be put out or extinguished. I am durable, but I am also human, and just one human. 

This is where me extends to we. I might be the only one in this box, but I am not the only one who believes in better, or the only one who has been to prison or will go for standing up against repression. 

We are all a UP, and I think that gives us strength. Even giving a name is resistance, you still stood and did not agree with what we have been told since birth; “you were born to go to school, get a job, pay taxes and submit to capitalism.” Fat chance bucko. 

Writing these letters feels like talking to a black hole, a void – will you get this, or will it be subject to heavy censorship? – but gives me strength. For all of those who wrote, and I have heard there are many, I barely receive letters. I often wonder if the letters are sent back, or are they thrown away to lead you to believe they reached me, and that I am too (pick a negative description word) to write back? Do they hope you will atop sending more? 

I fully intend to almost single handedly keep the post office in business, a letter a day (or as close to as I can). This will be my eight letter, so it appears I have sixty seven days of catching up to do. Excellent. This will be interesting, how many will you receive? 

Perhaps a bigger question is though, will I be here long enough to write them all? (Every day is a day closer to being free!) 

No, for my final encouragement of this letter. There is so much negativity out there and, as hard as it is, lets try and bring a little positivity back. One positive thing, every day. I don’t care if this is a word, an action, whatever. Let’s slowly try and make the world a little less of a shit place to live in. For example, I like that you have read this far, and I think very highly of and have great respect for you if you are, have, or are considering fighting for justice, whether small or big picture, or are here for support and solidarity. 

I support you, I believe in you and I stand with you. Even if you just tell someone you appreciate their existence today I will be thankful, positivity breeds positivity. Once a day. Even if it’s just to yourself. 

It’s well after midnight now so I will finish this with another little sentence that makes me smile – 

“Well – it’s just that you seem to be labouring under the delusion that I am going to – what is the phrase? – come quietly.” Dumbledore, pg 546, HP5

Stay strong. Stay brave. Stay wild. For the forest, for the future. Every single one of you is important keeps your heads up and hearts open. I can’t wait to be out and free again, I miss you all (those I’ve met) and to everyone else I look forward to seeing you around sometime. 

<3 Troublemaker – in – chief, UP III

One thought on “Letter #8 from UPIII”

  1. My relation to UP III changes with every published word I read. In the beginning I imagined her to be a very young woman, weak in comparison to the enormous power of the state; helplessly locked in, near to being broken by the monotony and sadness of the place. I was in enormous sorrow about her – and I have good reasons for such feelings. But many letters further – 25 from me, 10 from her ! – I must say, what an incredible soul. Each and every representative of what euphemistically is called our Rechtsstaat (I don’t know the English expression) should read this, should be ashamed and understand: the truly helpless are we. I am proud to know you, UP III, you are wild at heart.

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