I checked off the second to last item on my observation list. I always make it to the second to last item. Here time waits patiently until a job is done before advancing because we decided it did. The completion of a task was deemed more important than the idea that a task should take a certian amount of time. It isn’t so different to the way they operate; the ones I observe. Anyways the last item is “find a way out”. Find meant to search, and he didn’t bother anymore; no one bothered anymore. The closest he could get to a way out was to shift into third person narration. In third person, he felt as if he could do anything as if he already had escaped and was looking back into the place he was. What he wrote wouldn’t have an immediate effect on where he was or what would happen to him, but, one day, according to what he was told, someone would read this, and whatever he wrote, in some sense, would be as close to an account of what happened as the truth. And, in truth, any understanding that anyone would have of what happened would be just as good as his understanding espically when it came to to finding a way out. He’d read the reports of much better observers than himself. He’d seen simulations. Simple simulations with only a few rules, but they’d generate enough complexity. A suprizing amount of complexity such that those inside the simulation wouldn’t find a way out at least for as long as the simulations would run, and it never looked promising near the end. Well, he, as far as he knew, was in reality, and could run these fairly complex simulations in hios reality, so maybe that meant his reality was a little more complex or at least equal to these simulations he could run. I stood up. Pushed in my chair, and took one last look at the last item on the list. A short while later, on the other side of the room, I fell asleep in my bed. I fell asleep not because I was tired but because it was the closest thing I could do to checking off that last item, and it bothered him that he couldn’t check that off.