The Isolationist's Regime

Every one to a quarter. Sun up, sun down. In your place. Next to many but seeing no one. Of course you have a place to sit. A white bed with white sheets to take your rest. Maybe a table if you are inclined to write. Notebooks will be provided. Restrooms will not be needed. A single white bulb hangs from above. It will not need replacing. Food will be provided in specific form and quality to ensure time alone is kept.

Every hour on the hour a cautious melody will be heard by all. Separate, but together. You are allowed to hum, but whistling is not permitted. Tapping on the walls in rhythm is also not permitted and will be promptly discouraged. Communication is irrelevant. If you need to speak to someone, a cassette recorder will be provided. Speak your words and drop it in your out slot. It will be picked up and listened to. Expect no response.

You have your memories. You can remember it all. A fond nostalgia keeps the heart alive. Suggestions of memories specific to each individual will be provided to aid your efforts. Memory can be quite vivid.

If you have questions, you may ask them. If you have songs, you can sing them to the quiet. You may find that it becomes a soulful quiet. You may find it disturbing. All emotions are predictable and quite understandable. All equals all.

A label of possible exits will be provided. In contrast to your surroundings, you may begin to believe there is a way out. Each label will be different. The distances to the exits will be different. How do you think you would react to that?

Perhaps you will find no reason to react. There will just be a space of quiet. Which is all you really need anyway. Sustenance is taken care of. The days remain yours.

The mind is the way, it leads for today.