the lights were on.
and the room was dark.

i opened my eyes.

the walls were blank. devoid of the slinking scrawls i remembered. bare.
none of those lovely distractions. not this time.

what was i lying on?
the ceiling, the ceiling. bare as the other planes. the other places. stark. chilling... cold concrete walls.

i can feel myself awakening. stretching sordid, tendrils snaking out. tentative probes. and so this history will begin again. it will re... re-begin. it has. i began recording some time some short time ago.

it has begun.

time is of the essence. but it must be much too much too late
  because it has begun.

now i retract. i know, i knew i would. it never lasts long, and cold quickens the death. but it used to be constant. standard. a definition of... self. expanded awareness. intelligence.


the tendrils are shrinking.

the lights are going out.

make haste.