They torture the hapless, anonymous woman in the bed next to you. The muffled screams and laughter, the subdued creaking of the restraints, full you with dread. This is no medical facility...
"By now you realise that you are not here for treatment. I suggest you sign whatever is put in front of you without too much hesitation... we only want your assets. But, experience tells us that women of your stature rarely just GIVE us everything... hence this demonstration of what we will do to you. But surely you want to experience it first hand..."
The restraints are snug. Only the gag is non-medical. As they fasten it, you tell yourself you will be strong, that you will find a way out of this place before they break you.
As the first of many 'therapy' sessions with the seasoned torturers begins, you feel the first wobble of doubt. They have been practicing this art under the cover of the asylum for a long time, and know their way around a ticklish woman. Over the next few days, your attempts at defiance only amuse them.
There is no solidarity, no hope for us on the left. We disabled were abandoned, and the way were were abandoned showed us in no uncertain terms that the left we have now is a paper tiger.
We are alone
I should just get the word loser carved onto my forehead so I can remind myself of how worthless I am the minute I start to have hope in any situation.
I hold on to life like a man in his last days. I think of open fields and sunlight, yet in reality, it's nothing more than darkness and pain. Yet speaking about it is just an open conversation. The only time I relate to life is when the rain hits my face and the waters of life dance with my tears filled with emotions of nothingness. People say scars heal. It takes time. But isn't time against us? Following the exasperation date, I thought that tomorrow was not promised today. Yet fading away like history. I know life is a mystery. Yet misery is the best friend to depression and false clarity. It's okay to cry, but it feels like self genocide. Only inside actions stands clear, but the pass shows itself in the rear view mirror. The mask cracks as my smile starts to deplete and painful feelings repeat. Let my heart skip a beat to only be free six feet deep. That's how I'll be happy and free from this lost dreadful sea.
“It's all downhill from here. My thoughts and intentions are so fucking unclear. I have no hopes. I have no dreams. This is not where I want to be. Fuck it all. Society is designed to watch us fucking fall.”