octoocto

The first day was madaning, pushed me past my limit yet what followed was more so.
It's almost funny lying down in that shit crying a bit being yelled at to keep my eyes on it I remember wanting to be alone to have some time to think even if i had to think about the next month that would be coming i needed to compose myself i needed a few hours with no stimulation. I often thought as a kid that if hell existed it would not be like people say it is because as i saw it yes burning was bad but that was pain and confusion and sure you wanted it to stop but your head was filled you didn't have to think. In my version of hell has maybe once every month maybe even two months demons would pluck you outa the fire and put you in a room for a day or two make you contemplate not only that this was going to happen but that it was going to start again tomorrow and literally never gonna stop except for when you were put in the room. It was the pseudo philosophy of my childhood and the realization it sneaks up on you. Well it wasn't my first time in a cell or an orange jumpsuit may not have even been my second how many years had passed. Something had felt off and I knew it was the place and the people and a scream or two but it wasn't it was me my face. Before real dread was setting in i thought i was thinking bout what mattered survival but unbeknownst to me my subconscious was working at the real issue. My conscious mind was thinking all sorts of logical thoughts asking myself questions like what was that thing who are the people and what is the place. Going from one hypothesis to another trying to create a semi coherent narrative based off of the things i had observed hear and the things i had heard about before cults and like area 51 and a bunch of other rumors maybe some of them were half true. I was tryna keep calm what was likely and what was possible but less licky had I missed something? And then i tell you it hit me hair was almost the same but wasn't and i touch my face and it was different. It was my face it was it felt both younger and older at the same time and i well i knew why or at least think i did i began to cry again. They had some sorta magic age thing or maybe it was just that cream and lotion stuff never really used it so I didn't know how well it could work. How long had I been here? We were allowed to eat lunch today us less violent were allowed in the cafeteria they were all knew like me easy to strike up a convo but had we meet before and wait who was alive wait no na na na na i was going to die and i didnt they said i would be free after a month that was just a few days ago but it wasn't and so that means that…. So that means its very possible that i was executed for my crimes many…. Years ago and it would only be right to assume that after that time people would yah know forget.

And how many times had I figured this out?