Those walls are bothering me less and less every day... at first they mad me 
angry, so I would try to break them but they were soft so I tried to tear 
them with my teeth but they were hard and I broke my tooth.  So I would just 
sit there every day, banging my head as hard as I could against the wall, 
while my neck got sore and my forehead bled... and when the guys with the 
white clothes came and picked me up and put me down away from the wall I 
would stop and smile and pretend I wasn't going to go right back to doing it 
when their watchful eyes were gone... but when the bone on my forehead 
started to show through, they put this thing on my head, this big metal frame 
and I couldn't bang, I could only strangle myself and I did that for a while, 
but it wasn't helping so I stopped.  When I saw all the blood on the wall, I 
kind of felt bad for attacking it so I started talking to it instead... I 
told it about my life only I lied a lot... when ever it interrupted me, 
though, I kicked it just to show that I was still boss... but I don't kick it 
very much anymore and sometimes I listen to what it has to say... it has a 
lot of opinions for a wall... some of them are just like mine... it's not 
really accurate to say that the wall is my friend now, but I think we can 
learn to live with eachother.  After all, we're both prisoners of the 
ceiling and the floor... 

