Hello, Darkness, my old friend. I've come to talk with you again, because a vision softly creeping left its seeds while I was sleeping

and the vision that was planted in my brain still remains within the sound of silence.

Apologies to Paul Simon for appropriating these lyrics without permission.

Please, gentle listener, make sure you Spotify some Simon and Garfunkel over the next day or two to redress the balance.

Nocturnal transmissions is proud. redress the balance.

Nocturnal transmissions is proud to present.

I spent 12 days in the world's quietest room.

Now, I wish I was death. By Richard Saxon. As I slowly regained consciousness, I felt a wave of dullness wash over my fractured mind.

I couldn't move, much less remember what had happened before I passed out. My eyes burned as I opened them.

I'd spent too much time in darkness to quickly adapt to the incessant flow of light.

Hello? I tried to call out, but what emerged from my lips was merely a whisper.

Once I could finally see, I took note of the room I'd awoken in.

The walls, floor and ceiling were all covered in weird sound insulation foam. I tried to get to my feet, but my legs refused to cooperate.

They weren't atrophied, but had weakened significantly.

That fact alongside my groggy mind made me realize I must have been drugged.

"'Is there anyone there?' I asked a bit louder that time.

"'No response?'

"'I tried to think back, clawing at my own memories,

"'hoping for even the faintest scrap of information.

"'I'd been heavily sedated. If that much was clear, but why they'd

placed me in a soundproof room, I didn't know. After what felt like an eternity, I finally managed to

pull myself up onto my feet.

...