Wednesday, July 26, 2006


Originally uploaded by dragko.
Looking out from within his chamber, the grown man feels like an infant. The walls stark, the light starker, his mind is blurred by the systematic removal of his personality. Three a day, red ones. He has not even been told their effects. His only saving grace a beautiful woman, or at least a picture of her, hangs on the wall. Not by a sharp nail unfortunately but merely affixed with his own chemical sweat.

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