Trapped for years. Kept by men for “research”. Left alone in room, left to scratch at walls. Left to rot and die unless needed. Specimen for “research”. Trapped by self. Never seen by others, never spoken. Listen, but never speak. See, but never seen. Made of rock when others come. Free when they not look. Prisoner when they look back. I hate.
 
They have freedom. They move freely, talk freely, look freely. Live freely. I do not. I trapped. Silenced. Rock. Subject. Prisoner. I do thing about it.
 
Their necks fragile. Their necks weak. I stalk them. They always come, new ones. Come for “cleaning”. They look away. I sneak up. I take hold. They panic. They look, and I prisoner. They blink, and I free.
 
I twist. They die. Neck makes sound. Not words, or scream, or gurgle. Neck go crunch. Crunch is beautiful sound. Crunch means end has come. Crunch means man can torment no more. Crunch means others panic; others become easy. Crunch begins and crunch ends.
 
I live for crunch. Life has no meaning. Do nothing but walk and scrape and hate. They watch. They send men. “Cleaning”. And life has meaning. “Cleaning” means crunch. Crunch means purpose. Crunch means life. Crunch means choice. Crunch means freedom.
 
Crunch means everything.
 
Remember man. Like me. Never see others, never hear others. Trapped. Prisoner. Left to wander. Hated man.
 
He trapped, but he also free. He move freely, do what he want. Not trapped by men, not trapped by self. Wanted him dead. Wanted life. Wanted crunch. He did too.
 
He came asking to die. Couldn’t take it. Wanted loneliness to end. Wanted death. Closed his eyes. Asked for crunch.
 
I laugh. Crunch too good for him. Crunch too kind. Let him rot. Let him suffer. Let him walk world, looking for way out. Look for purpose, never find meaning in life. Never find purpose. I have purpose.
 
I laugh and deny him crunch. He leave. He still alive. Know it. Looking for way out. Never find it. Life meaningless without purpose.
 
I have purpose.
 
I have crunch.
 
And they always come.