Sinisterman

I reckon I've been punished enough. The years since I began to question my purpose have been filled with anxiety and fear and through it all there was a note of sadness that developed a deep and longed for solitude. I can't remember what it was that brought down this sentence or even if there is a reason. Lawrence tells me there was nothing I could have done to prevent it and I hate him for his sanguine reflections, because he can find hope in despair and I don't have that talent. I find only despair in despair and he thinks this is a narrow view.
He visits me every day and cheerfully regales me with tales from outside, his intent is that I eat his words and digest the happiness contained within them. He is mistaken in his conviction that this will bring me peace. I am interested only in myself. I don't give a damn what happens on the outside. Without his visits, however, my imprisonment would be seamless and without variety.
On the twentieth anniversary of my confinement I had many visitors but the mood was blackened when Lawrence sang a song from my childhood and then smirked as he crooned the last line, "and now we go our ways." The others sat nervously watching me but I did not oblige them with a smile. He is truly my tormentor with a grin.
I'm telling you this to illustrate my refusal to co-operate with my tormentors any more. I have turned my back on them and indicated that I will no longer accept his visits. I reckon I have been punished enough and I no longer question my purpose.