They can think what they want.

My room is white. Perfectly, isolation, in my room. They come in, and check on me, every hour or so. They check on the suicidal patients more often, but I'm not like that. I just want to get out.

I need to escape, or, i need to just be released. It's not a prison, its a mental disorder instituion. 

I see things. Things people, like you, wouldn't even imagine in your wildest daydreams. I see deep into people, their thoughts, their soul. They can feel my eyes pour into them as they walk by. I scare them. I enjoy it. I'm just glad I can start telling people my stories about this strange place.

Im glad they let me have my lap top, they even let me have my books. But they won't let me listen to music. They say its wrong for my mind. Shows what they know. They don't know a thing. If I can't have music soon, I might even be like the rest of the people in here.