I woke to find a tranquilizer dart in my forearm, just an inch off from the three freckles that I've bothered to take note of, but not to name. I was in a golden cage. There was some food, some water, and sawdust in case I needed to crap.
I was able to make a mixture of these strange things to, first of all, cultivate some yeast, and finally to brew my own disgusting kind of beer. My immediate necessities taken care of, I went about searching the cage for anything that might help me either live luxuriously in captivity or else to escape and live miserable and free. I found nothing; I found not a single thing growing or any sign of life.
With no escape I began pawing through the sawdust, looking for scraps of truth. That is something they often forget to feed you. It's addictive, and in the rain forest it's everywhere. Quite a painless detox, but I haven't slept well in weeks. I only managed to survive by digging the shrapnel from my eyes whenever he left the TV on. This is what I'm reduced to, like MockBock, eating the flies from his own eyes, I'm recycling my own truth in a bitter attempt to rebel.
In captivity, simply continuing to live is rebelling. He hasn't tortured me, or even talked to me, so it's safe to say he either doesn't know why I was a threat, or he knows I wasn't. Either way, this is what I'm reduced to. I have an escape planned on Sunday, but I don't know how well it will work. Even if I get out of the cage, it'll be a miracle if I survive the leap to the ground.
Sorry I've been missing days here and there, look what I'm reduced to. Reduced, reduced, like a thin sauce. There's a good chance I'll spend a couple days watching Evangelion and playing through Shadow of the Colossus. Long and lonely days, full of ramen pellets and stale water dripping from a giant plastic tube.
I was able to make a mixture of these strange things to, first of all, cultivate some yeast, and finally to brew my own disgusting kind of beer. My immediate necessities taken care of, I went about searching the cage for anything that might help me either live luxuriously in captivity or else to escape and live miserable and free. I found nothing; I found not a single thing growing or any sign of life.
With no escape I began pawing through the sawdust, looking for scraps of truth. That is something they often forget to feed you. It's addictive, and in the rain forest it's everywhere. Quite a painless detox, but I haven't slept well in weeks. I only managed to survive by digging the shrapnel from my eyes whenever he left the TV on. This is what I'm reduced to, like MockBock, eating the flies from his own eyes, I'm recycling my own truth in a bitter attempt to rebel.
In captivity, simply continuing to live is rebelling. He hasn't tortured me, or even talked to me, so it's safe to say he either doesn't know why I was a threat, or he knows I wasn't. Either way, this is what I'm reduced to. I have an escape planned on Sunday, but I don't know how well it will work. Even if I get out of the cage, it'll be a miracle if I survive the leap to the ground.
Sorry I've been missing days here and there, look what I'm reduced to. Reduced, reduced, like a thin sauce. There's a good chance I'll spend a couple days watching Evangelion and playing through Shadow of the Colossus. Long and lonely days, full of ramen pellets and stale water dripping from a giant plastic tube.
Labels: truth
# posted by Max Roderick on Thursday, July 30, 2009 
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