Ok. I’ve gotta get some thoughts down somewhere. For only me to see. I thought a job with a 5:1 hour ratio was my lucky break. Bust my ass for a few years doing who knows what, then go spend the rest of my life in the Mindscape. It said they needed people who could “work under stress” and had “strong mental stability”, which was a TREMENDOUS understatement. This is completely FUCKED! I didn’t know it was people! The bastard who made that screwed up machine tyrant, and those fatass snobs who agreed to this idea - all of them need to go to HELL. I’ve got 2 more years in my contract, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to tough it out. Hopefully when I feel like shit, I can write to vent. If not…
I couldn’t eat the slop they handed us today. Thought I saw an eyeball looking at me. Even thinking about what body parts are in that “food” makes me wanna puke.
Shit, are the soldiers also… Fuck Fuck Fuck FUCK FUCK
Some of the other workers quit today. Lucky bastards have enough cash to pay out the broken contract fee. Or maybe they don’t and just can’t do it anymore. I don’t know what happened to them.
If I ever make it to the surface, the first thing I’m doing is dragging one of those rich pigs down here and throwing them into the grinder. Don’t even care what the aftermath is.
I can’t do it anymore. I’m going to escape. I need to get out of here. I snuck some supplies into the emergency kit in the main room. As soon as there’s a chance I’m gonna get the hell out of here. Maybe the vents will work.