“Captured by the Stare.”  1:Loss

	Memories seep through the hallow prison, and my mind is assaulted with loss Leaking through, his memories seek out every nerve, every cell, and every emotion that reside in this… this thing.. .the… smallest container for a universe of Kafkaesque hells. Before this, however, one memory in particular I experience vicariously.
	The memory, and the unrealized significance until this eccentric detriment, was not exactly painful by any means. At the time, I cried after it had stolen away the “hope” I held within for things to change. It was not pain, but punishment and so the two concepts could be held together and broken apart by the means of self-imaging and regret. The sin I carried with me left me for it’s own still-born agenda.
. . .

	What do other people think? What is it that their minds live in?
I. Myself. The person I am.












Why would I, a perfectly logical being, even consider giving a smidgen of care for those foolish enough to even think about taking psychics seriously? At one point, one has to wonder if these people even take notice of the evidence against the validity of those people.