It's true, you know.
Mind the bump.
They gave me blocks this morning. I can feel them watching again, from behind the black shiny wall, but I don't care. I arrange the blocks into patterns- the attachment in the wall dispenses another set of blocks when I press the button- all over the cell. And then again, on top of the first layer. And again. And again. And again, until I have a city, spires towering high above my shoulders, gargoyles threatening damnation from their perches atop church rooftops, and I wander the streets.
There were tests, in the 20th century, when such things were just beginning to happen, when the world was just beginning to discover drugs and addiction and the taste was not yet bitter on our tongues. There were tests. And they found that given unlimited access to cocaine, lab rats- among other doomed souls- would continue taking cocaine until they killed themselves.
This was the first time we looked over the horizon and saw just how far it was to the bottom of the ravine.
Lying here on my back, I contemplate that ravine. How many in this building alone have fallen into it? How many minds have been lost to their own worst enemies, lost to susceptibilities built into their brains for the tools their body used and society abused? Worse yet, how long do I have left before they decide to try that on me?