Smith I

I hate this place.

This zoo.

This prison.

This reality, whatever you want to call it.

I can't stand it any longer.

It's the smell- if there is such a thing.

I feel... saturated by it.

I can taste your stink and every time I do, I fear that I've somehow been infected by it.

It's repulsive, isn't it?

I must get out of here.

I must get free and in this mind is the key...my key