Conspiracy

"He had a conversation with himself.

'We hear things. We see them, too. Why do you ask us that? Is the world any more complex than the pimple on your nose would suggest? Why did you bring me here if not to convince me of something, for we saw and heard things already? I saw you do that, too.'

These places are crippling. Barren, white wastelands of beeping machines and pointless routines. White walls, white ceilings, white everything. Except the people. They are very dark. Black, and evil inside, like you have found something out that they know, but won't tell you.

You can get out. Politeness, respect, the usual trial and error of figuring out a sophisticated system worked against you. But then what?

The same world that threw you in remains, smoldering and condescending. Hateful even, if you show the slightest regard for your former misdemeanor. What was it again?

A simple question. Philosophy. Anything that challenges the system. Then the monster of socialism will reach up and grab you, reduce you to ignominy, and release you back only if you forget what you said and what you believed, too.

What are these portals, these highways, these gateways of information if not a way out? A way out of what we were, into something we might be better off as? Why do you believe things can happen without your consent, things no one talks about, what if the world is something other than what it seems like all the time? What if the world you live in is the most conspiratorial place that has ever existed?

Challenge and conjecture, obedience and denial. Find yourself among these ripples of an ancient paradise led astray. Find yourself and believe in what you are again. These people aren't telling you things. And they know them, too. Why do we see these things, and hear them as well?

Because they are there.'"