"The first thing you notice about prison is the smell: stale smoke and sweat and sometimes incense and sometimes weed and crackpipes. It smells of hundreds of years of sadness and desperation and anger and hurt and depression and anxiety. It smells of the lowest of the low; of the rejects of society, too ugly or violent or scary for anyone to truly care about. It smells of defeat. It smells of grown men who gave up caring about themselves long ago, if they ever did."