i must blog quietly, or they may hear

at least my cell is clean. the food has been the same, a rusty plate spotted with an assortment of either crunchy or runny, otherwise unidentifiable morsels - i believe at least a few of them are poop. besides the light of the barred window in the door, i receive no real energy in here - though i am occassionally taunted with bizarre dangling objects just beyond the periphery of my sight, probably to sap what little strength i may still have. everything is either hard, sharp, cold, or glazed in a hideous mossy film - or some combination of the same. i must escape. i must be free. i will try to come up with a plan the next time my mind works ... wait ... i think someone's coming ...