It seems strange to me that I have been in this ever shrinking cell for more then half a year. Mom had shown me great care during my incarceration. The only torture I receive is a daily dose of her siren wailing along with pre-recorded “country music”. However I am usually quickly rewarded for my cooperation with chocolate cream layered cookies. These desserts which were once a mere pleasure to Mom have become an obsession.
In other regards my prison has been kept at a pleasurable climate. At times it is even given adequate light from the sun which is of course filtered by the walls of my cell. I dare say that I am becoming increasingly concerned about my mental stability. I have deduced this for two reasons.
1) I have begun to hear voices outside of my cell and although they may be a figment of my imagination I do not believe they are. The mere fact of hearing said voices may cause a fetus, like myself, to question their sanity however it is the crazed nonsense that they speak that concerns me. I can’t tell if the gibberish they discuss is a sign of my mental unsteadiness or theirs.
2) I have become quite comfortable in this prison. Even Mom’s incessant tone deafness has grown to become almost tolerable. Mom and her companion visited another parole officer which ensured them of my release date and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I fear that perhaps I am contracting a case of Stockholm syndrome.
The meetings with these, so called, parole officers have increased in frequency and many discussions of my release have commenced. Even more conversations about the fortitude of my prison have occurred. On at least two occasions a person who could only be considered a prison mason has been appointed to test the structural integrity of the penitentiary walls as well as the drainage system. I have attempted at each juncture to request that he expand my cell but he acted as if he could not hear me.
A surveyor was also hired by Mom and her companion, who I shall hence forth call “Dad”. I speculated at first that the surveyor was acquired to also consult on the prison structure however she seemed more interested in taking pictures of me then of my cell. At first I was self conscious of such images, as I did not want them to be attached to the so called “Inter-Web”, however after some prodding (literally) by Mom and the surveyor I decided to shed my puritanical views show them everything I have to offer.
Upon my doing so there was some confusion. Apparently I lacked a certain appendage which they expected to see on the images. Although before I could become concerned about my potential deformity there seemed to be great elation among all in attendance. This has caused me to believe that such a growth is some form of infectious cancer. I will be sure to be wary of all who possess said appendage upon my release.
As a final note before I return to my serene floating; It has become apparent, as of late, that there are a few other moving prisons close to Mom, even one case of prisoner transfer after she was released. (Perhaps as part of a witness protection program.) I wish luck to all my fellow innocently incarcerated individuals. Please know that many have successfully gone before us. We are strong and we will one day succeed in escape. Keep of sound mind and spirit and know that you are in my thoughts.
To those who have recently been released I have two words:
“SEND SKITTLES!!!!”
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