Thoughts on the situation, as it stands, and how it will end...(if it ever ends):
(Note: We don't know says what, but the different colours are our way of trying to distinguish one from the other)

How the fuck am I supposed to know? That could very well be considered the statement of my life. I never know, but I always have an opinion. Oh yes, opinions are free, motives come at a price. The price is, you have to stick with me forever, and endure the shit I've lived with since the beginning. And no, I don't know when that was. Like I said-how the fuck am I supposed to know? How am supposed to know automatically the rules of this game, the methods of madness and the parameters of the human race? They control me, and yet I am not to be controlled. The rules don't apply to me, but my circumstances make it seem like they do. It seems that nothing is as it seems, don't you agree? No, I don't either. I just like to contradict myself every now and then, makes for an interesting debate. Always talked to myself, comes naturally.
I'd like to say I'll be around forever, I really would. But at the moment, the only thing I can say for sure is that I'm tired. Tired of what? Well, I don't know, it could be a number of things. Uncertainty has always been a part of my life, when I needed it and when I didn't need it. Especially then. I only know that I can change, whether I want to or not doesn't come into play. Life has an annoying habit of grabbing you by the balls and making you listen. My eyes have always been wide open, and I've been assured that so has my mouth (!), but my ears remain closed until further notice. Am I needed, do I have some big fancy plot laid out for me to follow, some lives to save or ruin? Or am I merely a prop, to be used and thrown away? An object with no real value beyond the superficial; people adore me for what I am, who I am, and then they forget. I never forget, I wish I could but I can't. So many "I"s, am I really so introverted? Or do I even deserve an answer?
Information is what I crave, why can't everyone just leave me alone to gather and think? I don't need you, you're nothing to me, why can't you understand me? Why won't you listen? I want to be alone, not surrounded by your puny buildings and self-obsessed rituals. I want to retreat, away from you all, to be by myself. This company is, at least, a small respite; I can ponder here, review and make judgments without scrutiny by Everyone Else. Hide me, shelter my weak body and pretend I don't exist. They may not know me, but I know them. I know that, secretly, they relish my demise.
I can't believe how wonderfully revolting this place is. It manages to be interesting and boring at the same time, fascinating and yet stomach-turning. I like it. Why does everyone have to be so choosy about how they live? Why not accept the situation for what it is, and move on? You all spend too much time in books.
If we were to take our heads out of the books and take a proper look around, I expect we would soon dissolve. I mean, what is there here for us? Really? Besides a place to rest, a place to talk, and a place to voice our opinions? Nothing, that's what. Fuck having a purpose, I say we bolt up the windows and play the music really loud. After all, it's a scary world out there. Who's to say they'll accept us, who's to say they'll let us merge into society? We can never be too careful, I think, and what better way to stay safe than to stay put. Oh, I'm not suggesting we all take the next flight out of here, but at least we're unseen. No one can point and laugh, and know at whom they are truly pointing. Pointless to worry about what others think, they don't think properly anyway, most of the time. I question questions and resolve no conflicts but my own.
This is in itself a pointless effort, are we really so manipulative? Silence.