Hazy Recollection #2 (as told in (incoherent?)fragments)
The inside of a cell. Inside a cell. Contained within a cell. Just another part of just another organism.
The irony of R.E.M.’s Shiny Happy People playing in the distance, possibly coming from the basement car park beneath the cell.
The welcome, but brief distraction from the boredom within the cell, and from the thoughts of what could have been done differently to avoid being in the cell in the first instance, comes from a cell a few doors along and its inhabitant’s relentless repetition of the words: “I’m just a mixed up kid… Don’t know what I did.”
The interruption of privacy when another is shepherded into the cell.
The invasion of privacy when being catalogued within a system.
The fallacy of freedom as a feeling that persists upon release.
The minor inconvenience of having to catch up on lost time.
The feeling of oblivion when moving in time, to music.
The bliss of irresponsibility.