March 5
Even behind walls, in chains, something remains to a person that no guard can reach: their own will, the last corner that no force can enter.
Notes from the House of the Dead (freely rendered)
Listening mode
Even behind walls, in chains, something remains to a person that no guard can reach: their own will, the last corner that no force can enter.
Sometimes you do something you don’t agree with. Perhaps you think a rule is pointless, or you find it hard to turn down a request. You comply and keep your judgement to yourself. No one asks you to give it up, and no one gets to see it.
This silent no is no small thing. It separates obedience from consent, even if from the outside the two look the same. As long as you know that you think otherwise, something remains to you that cannot be ordered.
Over time it gets harder. If you never voice a reservation, no one contradicts it, and no one confirms it. It never has to prove itself anywhere. After a few years you can hardly say whether it has stayed awake or whether it is now just a habit that makes going along more bearable for you. What no one can reach, no one can check for you either.
Perhaps you only notice when someone wants to know what you actually think of it. Then, for the first time, you hear out loud the answer you have kept to yourself for so long.
