My dear Jailer

My dear Jailer,
I had been feeling ill for some time and everyone cheerfully said I was
going to die. Isn't it good to have friends? My vibration was really
down and kept dipping further down uncontrollably and I could do
nothing about it! Well anyway, one morning I woke up and you had put me
in this sensory deprivation tank thing. No-one will talk to me, I don't
know whether I have done something really wicked, walked on the grass
for instance or contracted a lethal disease. If my vibration went far
enough down I suppose I could have done anything!
Perhaps this treatment is a cure for the chronically depressed or the
insane, lock the poor sufferer up in a sensory deprivation unit for a
few months. If you are not insane when you went in you will be when you
come out! Speaking of months I have no sense of time but I bet I've
spent months, if not years in here. I often wondered why no-one would
talk to me. I could hear noises which sounded like people nearby but I
didn't seem to be able to talk or communicate with them. Perhaps I am
too wicked to be allowed any contact at all.
Your unit was very cleverly constructed. I didn't seem to be bound or
anything. I didn't even have a breathing pipe. I was completely
suspended in warm water. There was a tube going into my stomach which
must have supplied me with everything I needed. Perhaps it was used to
keep me in the desired state of mind. Anything could have been fed into
me that way! It felt really weird, sort of pulsating and warm.
The real reason I am writing this message is to say that I have been
let out, which you know of course, but I am not rejoicing, in fact I
would like to complain. I am writing this message in my mind because
nothing else works. let me explain.
One day, or even night for all I know, you decide to let me out. I must
have done my time. But instead of opening the door and letting me out
you squeeze me out! I started trying to yell because when you started
squeezing I thought you must have forgotten I was in there and decided
to dispose of the tank, or maybe someone sat on it or something, I
don't know.
Perhaps the squeezing bit was part of the punishment anyway in due
course out I pop into normal surroundings. But I am not as free as I
expected - far from it. I can't see anything I can understand! I must
have the most monumental hangover. I just can't focus my eyes. I can't
move either. Perhaps I am still drunk, or maybe this is the effect of
several months or years in sensory deprivation. As much as I try to sit
up and rub my eyes all that happens is that I seem to wave my arms and
legs around a bit. If I try to rub my eyes my toes curl. If I try to
feel my tummy I blink my left eye. Help! What have they done to me? At
least I can hear now, though even that sounds weird. All I seem to be
able to hear are noises which sound like sea breaking on sand. All I
can smell is a sort of burnt smell like electricity which makes my eyes
water.
And still no-one wonders what I am doing here or says what is expected
of me. I suppose you are wondering why I haven't asked you, or anyone
for that matter. Perhaps you have a slight suspicion of the truth. Yes
- when I try to speak, I just wave my arms around and fart. It's so
embarrassing! You just can't imagine. I must have accidentally upset
someone and he or she is taking revenge by utterly humiliating me. The
nearest I can get to making any sort of noise is if I think of singing,
raise my right arm, look left and blow through my nose. At this rate
its going to take me years to figure out all the movements needed to
say 'Help!'
Something alarming has just happened. A large pink blob just flew over
my head. I think it paused very close to me and then swooped away
again. When it did my stomach dropped into my arse and my head felt
like it was going to roll off my shoulders and my headache got suddenly
so bad I nearly blacked out, if any of these impressions are to be
trusted. Now I have my face thrust into something large, pink, warm and
smelling odd. Someone has just stuck a pink rubbery thing in my mouth.
Perhaps I was making too much noise or something. I tried to bite on it
only to find you have taken my teeth away too. Anyway I suppose if I
try too hard to bite I will probably find something completely
different happens, perhaps I will sing or something. Now there's a
promising idea.
So I must insist you or someone explains to me what I have done and if
there is any way I can make reparations because I don't think I can
stand much more of this. The sensory deprivation was bad enough but
this is far worse. I am prepared to do anything to escape this present
state.
Yours extremely confused and bewildered