4:44

The clock strikes 4.44. I breathe, I breathe. I am still and yet it is as if I had made a run, a run at breakneck speed. I sleep and I see it. I see her. Beautiful as always. Words, words, words, words, words. Words and voices that don’t go away. I believed those words, with and without a voice. They poison my mind. Ah my mind. A field after a battle. Swarming with things that are no longer anything. And they were everything. Enough, enough, enough, enough! A shadow. Here’s what they are. A broken and toxic shadow. Food for the night and its ghosts. Idiot! I am the ghost! A dead man who still wanders. Haunted by his nightmares. Yes, I am the specter. Idiot! It is so. I’m an idiot. But I can’t get out of it. I can’t find the damn door. Of this prison. Which is making me disappear.

If pillows could talk, they will tell others how I am depriving myself of sleep, regretting past decisions while my “what if” scream in my head and they will also tell others that I wake up in the middle of sleep because I am haunted by unwanted memories, those undesirable memories that turn into nightmares. If pillows could talk, they will tell others those days when I questioned my worth, those days when I entrusted my happiness to someone who loved me and yet showed me how replaceable I am and they will also say how absurd I was to believe made up excuses for every call or every ignored message. If pillows could speak, they will tell others how often I feel weighed down by responsibilities I carry on my shoulders that I didn’t have to have. If pillows could talk, they’d say they’re sick of catching my tears every time I get scared, broken and tired because I’m weak. They will tell others how sensitive I am that I easily notice whenever there is a slight change towards me from those close to me. And if only pillows could talk, they’ll tell others I’m having a good fight, tell others how many times I’ve rebuilt, tell others that no matter how many times I’ve shed tears, I’ve never denied myself smiling and breaking my heart. life like I’m not exhausted. It’s a cycle, they burn me out, I wear out and then I get back to working.

It doesn’t matter who you spend the day with. The important thing is who you spend the night with, when doubts, fears and worries are strongest. It is important with whom you spend the night because close to us you have the person who fills our heart, mends the most serious wounds and is that person who despite having seen our biggest defects has loved them all the same.

VIOLATION OF HUMAN RIGHTS

The APDH and the Committee for the Liberation of Milagro
 Sala denounce the mistreatment and torture of three political prisoners
 in the Alto Comedero prison, in the province of Jujuy. 
They were held at different times in "isolation cells" 
where they were isolated from the rest up to 7 days, 
with the windows closed, with only an hour a day for personal hygiene. 
This situation is aggravated by the fact that her clothes are removed,
 that is, they are left bare with a single blanket to cover herself. 
To keep them good, they administer psychotropic drugs, 
sometimes by force, sometimes secretly in the midst of other drugs.

This is a clear violation of human rights, 
a violation of United Nations rules on the treatment 
of prisoners and the treatment of women prisoners

 (Maria Elena Naddeo is co-president
 of the Asamblea Permanente por los Derechos Humanos
 (APDH) and a member of the first hour 
of the Milagro Sala Liberation Committee.)