Out of Service.
The subtle current of electricity that doth power me to do great things has been stripped from my hands.
My eyes fix back to their undialated, deglossed brown frames, while my sides begin to quickly thin. I am melting.
My connection with the outside world has been breached; furthermore, the companionship and subsequent chain of loyalty I have to my downloaded friends has been broken. I have been abandoned in a world of stagnant disillusion, and my inner computer fears it might drown in this loading world forever.
Without any cable cord or signal, the thoughts and feelings that are frequently released to my closest subjects will back up, forcing me to this pen and this parchment so much that I fear madness.
I do not blame the Retched One who tooketh my power away -- I only plead mercifully, silently, that it may be returned to me before the madness takes hold and my creations are lost to this world forever.
To those who now will worry for my sanity and pledge my freedom, I reach out for you. Not virtually, of course, but literally, so that you might yank me from this putrid dead zone and welcome my eyes back into the world of activity and connection.