fat mogul

(been boring myself with all of this political crap I’ve been writing, figured I’d go back to something fun)

Dear Diary:

At best count, I’ve been inside of this strange prison for two hundred sixty-two days.  It appears that they have been decreasing the size of this pliable cage quite considerably over the last few months.  As it is now, I find that I cannot move without rubbing against the walls that surround me.   On a similar note, I’ve begun to notice that the walls are pulsating on a somewhat regular basis.  I don’t have a very good concept of time within this darkened room, but the regularity of this pulsation seems to be growing.  I wonder if my captors have something planned for me in the near future.

An unfortunate side effect of my decreasing space is that I seem to have gotten myself in a very uncomfortable position.  I feels as if my head is pointing towards the ground, and with every day I feel my head getting more and more stuck in the position.  No matter how much I kick at my surroundings, I can’t seem to be able to dislodge my head from it’s current position.  A happier thought regarding that issue, however, is that although my head seems to be getting lodged deeper and deeper within this new-found area, the area I’m approaching also seems to be getting bigger.  I can’t be certain as of yet, but it does appear that this could possibly be some sort of secret exit.  More on this as I am able to explore.

Otherwise, I’m finding my captivity to be rather boring.  The voices I keep hearing seem to be getting more excited about something.  Although I cannot quite understand the language of my captors, I can tell that this is mostly a happy excitedness.  I can only imagine their intentions. . .  Here’s hoping that I can find the end of this secret exit before they can follow through with whatever they are planning.