Peaceful's Kingdom

Fantasy Island

You should see Warlike’s house.  I feel like the director is going to out from behind a pillar and shout “cut” at any moment.  Marble and mahogany everything.  The style is fairly simple, just rich in texture.  Handrails and arches are dark, anything wood really, is a simple bevel and fully functional, but the rich color is highly polished giving it a mesmerizing depth.  The floors are all composed of tile imported from Italy.  The fully loaded home theater with twenty leather recliners is a shocking sight to behold.  With a full staff to maintain the house at all times every room is in order at all times, there is nothing out of place except for me.

This is my first idea that something is wrong.  It seems to me that if this environment was something I was accustomed to I would not be in awe.  It just feels weird having maids make my bed and people serve my food. I don’t really like the extra activity of them moving around me, as I do nothing.

My room supposedly is unchanged.  There’s a mahogany vanity.  It has the expected female amenities, namely aromatic lotions and body sprays in an array of colors.  There is some make-up but nothing overwhelming.  CD cases are piled in leaning towers on one side of the mirror and continue on to the floor.  Most of the CD’s themselves are in similar piles on top of the cases. I want to see photos taped around the mirror but there aren’t.  There are no photos of any kind.  There should be, I think.  But then again the nature of the organization is not given to photographic evidence.

Clothes are in neat piles in the chair next to the walk-in closet.  I suspect they are folded by the same person who makes my bed, which happens to be covered in a purple zebra stripe pattern, so maybe the punk band thing is not that far off.  It’s still out of place with the brocade curtains that belong to a couch downstairs, but at least there is some hint or falsified attempt at my supposed self expression.

There are no books or magazines so I must not be a reader.  Half the clothes that have been left out are workout clothes, so I must be active.  Learning about yourself from yourself is like landing in another country you know nothing about.  Everything is an enigma and a mystery.  You are curious about everything but you have no context to interpret what you are seeing. 

Something in me wants to take what I can conclude about myself and act contrary to it.  If can surprise Warlike and Gentle Lamb with this new Peaceful they will slip up.  The façade will crack and I will be able to see things as they really are and not as the have engineered them to appear.  I just have an inexplicable desire to piss them off.  Maybe that is how this all happened in the first place.  My being difficult, yet indispensable, forces them to drastic measures.

Is my amnesia really a side effect or a consequence?

Time will tell.  Despite my discomfort there it beats this windowless hellhole they’ve brought me to.  I know one thing for sure and that is that I miss the sun and a sense of day and night.  It may be an intentional tactic to break me down, or maybe training so I’m not even reliant on the elements, irregardless, it sucks.