We're All Mad Here.

I hate this place
As Jane Austen so eloquently wrote,
"it is not merely this affair, on which my dislike is founded.
I hate this place.
Tick. tock.
I hate this place.
All hell breaks loose.
"Any words of advice?"
"Stay Alive."
"Thanks."
"No problem kid. Just keep talking."
But if I cry I get another hour. I learned not to cry.
She must have know about the problem with the jewelry box,
but you're not supposed to talk back to grown-ups.
Tick. Tock. Sings the clock.
I hate this place.
This is just someone's memory of life.
A voluntary prison with discipline.
Tick. Tock.
An error: "too much, too soon."
They were sick with horror...
There was no sound.
At this point being crazy is the least of my worries.
The clocks here tell nothing but time.
I hate this place.