No idea how long I’ve been going, it seems like forever already. And there’s no end in sight. All I can see looking down is darkness. I don’t want to turn around, I bet all I’ll see in that direction is darkness, too. Endless black, matching my mood.
Why am I here again?
Getting paid. I suppose we like money.
Oh yes, I like money. Keep thinking of payday. Keep going.
Do we like money that much, though?
I wonder if I’ll ever reach the bright future they promised me.
Fifteen minutes since I swallowed the breakfast pill and I’m still waiting for the comfort of its artificial blanket of docility to envelop me. When it comes, it does a shoddy job. How am I supposed to drift off when my feet are cold?
The drugs want to funnel me down the tunnel to alertness and obedience so I’ll do my job like a good cog. I resist. I need my dose upped but I won’t be eligible for ages. I could plead.
Or I could go with rebellion. Wean myself off. De-cog myself from the machine.
‘Yes, I know. I mean, what’s with the torso? It is so out of proportion, it’s almost comical. And don’t even get me started on those dead eyes. How creepy are they? But you know what bugs me most? That it’s so confused. It’s got the limbs of a woman, the chest and shoulders of a man and the face of a two-year old child. What the hell was the sculptor thinking? And who commissioned this monstrosity – Dr. Frankenstein?’
‘You’re not wrong, I guess. I meant the bracelet, though. Those are the worst kind of plastic beads.’