It seems like an eternity that I have been stuck here.
In reality it is a little more than a few hours.
Or is it weeks?
Time passes differently here.
Before me the landscape stretches out like a patchwork quilt. Areas of differing colour, clashing with their neighbours. I can feel the conflict from way back here and yet there is nothing I can do about it. That is just the way things are here. I learnt that very quickly.
While I may be the cause of the conflicts, I have little control over them and I just have to sit here and watch it all play out. Every clash, every pain that flows from those areas, hits me like a sledgehammer.
I am so tired.
I am so lonely.
The occasional visit from my tormentors lifts my spirits. I look forward to the break in the routine.
They arrive, talk at me in voices that I can only hear when I close my eyes. They poke and prod my body and soul, as if they are looking for something.
They have not found what they are looking for as yet.
When I first tried to communicate with them, I found that I could not speak as normal. My speech came out in song lyrics.
This did not make for easy conversation, although eventually I managed to get my head around it all and make what I was saying, come out in a format that should have been able to be understood. Yet the replies I received, just glossed over anything and everything I said.
All too soon, they were gone and I turned my attention to the landscape. The colours had changed as areas fell to their neighbours advances.
One day I hope to understand it all