Prison throws you back down to the bottom rung of Maslow’s hierarchy. You remember it from the textbooks: at the first level, you just want to survive and have something to eat; higher up, you start wanting to go to the theater and become a rock star. Or a monk. And so now, while members of the progressive public are eager to discuss international affairs on Twitter or fool their friends by claiming they’ve read *Ulysses*, I’m suing my penal colony, demanding that they issue me winter boots. Why are you laughing? They simply won’t give them to me, that’s all. And I really need them. The entire prison camp has been on winter uniform for several weeks now, but my malicious jailers brazenly refuse to give me winter boots. My exercise yard is an ice-covered concrete well, smaller than the cell itself. Try taking a walk in a place like that in autumn shoes. But I have to walk. It’s the only 1.5 hours of fresh air available to me. Why would prison staff bother with something so petty? Oh, it’s an excellent example of the cunning and careful design of the prison system’s methods of pressure. They don’t give you winter boots. Which means you either skip your walk (and suffer), or you go out and get sick instead—which has already happened to me. Catching a cold is no big deal when you’re at home with a blanket, tea, and honey. But in a cell where hot water exists in the form of three mugs a day—at breakfast, lunch, and dinner—getting sick, even with a cold, is strongly discouraged. If you do get sick, you’ll have to ask the administration for something—pills, medical help, permission to wear wool socks, and so on. Sensing that they now have an extra lever over you, the administration will start twisting your arm and demanding that you give up some of your positions. Prison struggle is an endless search for each other’s vulnerabilities. And these stupid winter boots make me vulnerable. I’m not saying all this to complain, but because lately people often write to me in letters about depression, gloom, existential darkness, and indifference. Seriously? Come on, pull yourselves together. If you’re alive, healthy, and free, then things are not so bad for you. Finish your pumpkin latte and do something to help bring freedom closer for Russia. Greetings from the foot of Maslow’s pyramid 😉