A tangled rock sat in a vacant area, expressing confusions. The rock used to be a happy normal rock, but when traffick boss wanted to influence some rock studies he kidnapped the rock, grafted it to robots and child slaves, fed it drugs and natives and implants, and put it though a sophisticated program for trauma-based mind control that had been handed down for generations of dictators, criminal organizations, and inhuman spy agencies, and refined through repeated sequences of democracy, war, human rights tribunals, death camps, secret prisons, refugee exodus, rebellious, coopted meetings, coerced and lobbied leaders, kidnapped religious figures, secret medical research, etc etc etc.
All these things and more left the rock incredibly confused. Sometimes this poor rock figured that confusion must be the purpose of life and would try to find ways to be even more confused, but that didn't go well. Rock: "which way is up?" Rock: "is down up? I feel like down must be up" Blade of grass: "up is where the sun come from!" Rock: "the sun?" While the rock sat there, the sun shone on it, warming a upward-faci
