Someone get me out of here. Please help me to get out of here. I don't want to be here. My senses are shutting down slowly. My brain is in a state of panic. My body is slothful.
There is a yellow table in front of me and I am surrounded by chattering idiots. The computer screen is a special vortex that makes me feel like I am falling forever.
My colleagues hate and laugh all day long. I sit down and shove biscuits and coffee and tea and sandwiches into my face and mouth. I spill coffee all over my groin every day.
My keyboard is a moulding pit of flaked skin and grimy dirt paste. I wish that I was outside in the rain or in a sacred forest surrounded by elms.