If I had a time machine I would go back to a simplier time. I miss the ignorance that birthed bliss…because once I noticed my position in this sick prison I became insane. Can you blame us? Maybe so. They treat us like animals and we act accordingly. We’re captured by the state and placed in a state of inhumanity. I doubt that you would want to follow me through these dark hallways and small cells, so I pen this letter to those of you who give a hell. I used to not give a hell whether I lived or died. But now I realize that I’m already dead. I’m a soul floating through life fighting the feeling of compromising with defeat. Will I ever make it out? Maybe so. If I ever do escape I’ll still be too damaged to succeed. Somebody told me that if you don’t make it outta this place the first day then you’ve committed suicide. I know exactly what he meant now. The guards and the warden murder your motivation while the bars erase your memories of reality. Should I just give up? Maybe so. What kind of life is this? I have nothing else to lose but my sense of fear, so people label me suicidal. I can’t see a future for myself. The ultimate pessimist confined in prison and shackeled by hopelessness.