Audrey Knight

i am tired and weary, and currently suffering from low blood sugar. but the spongy matter in my skull continues to pound as though driven by some not so silent drum-master on an old slave ship bringing my body slowly closer to its own inevitable doom. my muscles have been trained for twenty six years to never stop, to never bend or flex in any direction other than this crushingly painful and forced position. curled as a fetus i obey naught but the whip and drum of the hidden captain. i was told when i first boarded the destination would be in my own hands yet today i feel this was an irritating ruse to keep me pacified and im sure when i turn my eyes to the window i can almost see the exact same dolphins jumping i have seen one hundred times before. damn cheap conveyor belt scenery. when i wake and realize i have failed in my life so far, realize what ive done so far has been incorrect, wrong, futile, well what then? when im heading towards my own tortured enslavement even though i have thought for so long my ship was destined for barbados. the ocean is nothing more than a watery treadmill, and i am nothing more than an incredibly stubborn little hamster who has deluded myself into believing that if i can maybe just try a little harder someday i will knock my boat onto a new path and finally be able to enjoy the green sky and funny pink clouds as i glide effortlessly underneath. now to allow the hidden captain to have his say: you poor silly girl, of course this is all nothing more than a large sheet painted to look like ocean and sky. you have never seen the ocean, what makes you think it exists? you are my body, now please put down the pen and pick up the oar. i have somewhere to go.