there i am. alone in a room full of people. my eyes fixed on a single point, static in a world of dynamic mischief. a couple converses by the dripping water cooler, their words mixed into the never with those of past participants in the art. i cannot hear their words, but i see their pain. i can feel it: the pain of a thousand dead souls that lurks within the being of all of us. she turns away, trying to deny it.
i can hear their footsteps, but see only the motion blur of passing legs. they do not stop, but i feel the stare of their always naked eyes. why must they all look at me when they pass? i always thought i was one of them, but they are all blind. these souls look out from within them but they never return the action. the divits in the staring pole are all i see now; how the irony drips from the situation. their lives are full of holes.
they move throughout each day, pacing the hallowed halls of this maddening sanatarium. reality doesn't exist in here and time ticks slowly, counting the seconds away in that monotone voice that fades in and out of existance. the clock no longer ticks forward for me; it counts backward through the neverending pain of monotany. he chases on, trying to control her.
something once made me stay here, put up with the punishment and watch my life fade. those shackels are gone now, and i feel compelled to get up, to look elsewhere, but i'm scared. we're all too damn scared.
i get up and slide across the floor. the door opens for me as if towelcome the scorching light upon my pale and deprived body. it slams shut and i never look back. never, never look back.
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