Stuck in an exhibit
What does it feel like as your life you once had but as far back as you recall exists only as memories now becoming harder and harder to recall with any real clarity, th fog clouding my mind from a lifetime of heavy narcotics use has almost dulled so many of the finest details that made them so meaningful to begin with? I feel like I'm am exhibit piece living my life for the entertainment of those sick bastards in this city I regretfully am stuck in. The harder I try to escape the confine of my glass enclosure, the more it becomes obvious there is irrefutable proof someone or some group is absolutely manipulating my life for their own agenda.