In praise of weeds

jail art“Eventually I was moved to a cell with the same view, but with overgrown weeds outside. They became the epitome of beauty to me. They were “my weeds.” Had someone gone out and cut them, I’d have had a mental breakdown. Later on they moved us to cells (with the same nonexistent view) in another cell block, but I was confident because I knew “my weeds” were still there where we had left them.”  —Brogan Rafferty

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