Friday, April 13, 2007

a place to put my pillow

I am not so much a rat in a cage as much as a rat who returns to the cage nightly, locking myself in ritualistically, robotic movements ensue. Flash of directed light across the eyeballs, various clicks and buzzes initiating lockdown and all goes black. Why am I not numb anymore? I grew to crave that feeling.
Nightmares wake me some times. I sit slowly rotating in this bottomless cage, resting on a little perch that hangs from an old shoe string tied to the brassy tangle of twisted wires above me, asking myself "why return to the cage at all?" I mean, what is one cage compared to another? Maybe it is made of something nicer, something more sturdy? Maybe another cage would be a little bigger or have a place to put my pillow? Maybe I could find a cage so large that it doesnt even seem like I am in one. Would that really change anything?
In the morning I leave the cage to tell everyone I am free and that I only choose to return to it. I tell them all that they are trapped, but not I. They could leave the cages if they wanted and return too, if they wanted. I don't mention the cage-within-a-cage theory. I do not want to upset them anymore. They seem hopeful at best. They all like the idea of leaving for a while. They might take me up on the offer, just maybe. I am not here to save them am I? Karma is on my side either way.

Oct 11th, 2005

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