I miss home so much it actually hurt

Rabbi Traxler came to visit me yesterday. As always, I got the attention of the whole cellblock, when they see me greeting / hugging an older outside person, dressed up funny, that go in a room with me for like 90 min.

 

Traxler, sympathetic as always, asked how I'm doing, about my case, and we discussed for a while. Then he taught me about Hag-Shavu'ot.
I'm going to spend another holiday in the Kofiya.

 

I miss home so much it actually hurt; I miss the air, the warm nights, the sun, neighborhood sounds, smells, everything.
Being locked in a way that my entire world, my whole existence comes down to 400 sq/meters, makes the soul hard, tough, even kind of full of hatred. I'm absolutely sure that putting people in prison, makes them even more nasty and more hating than what they were like beforehand.
There are no plants here; no colors. No domestic animals, not even bugs; nothing lives here but men that share the exact same feelings about being in this place. The exact feelings.

 

It's funny-sad that bad attitude, human disrespect and dehumanizing, generates in one direction here, from jailors to prisoners. The prisoners, respect each other or ignore (at the worst case); the jailors, ignore prisoners at the best scenario, or bother and offend them on the worst scenario case. Nice, right?

 

Let's end with a joke:
What do fat-women and bricks have in common?

 

Both being laid by Mexicans...