If I Were a Little More Paranoid

I would think that hb wonderful snuck into my head and figured out how to say what I have been unable to express or explain. If I were in a psychotic state, I might even believe that *I* am agent 5 and this post isn't from hb wonderful at all but is actually the secret communique it presents as. Of course, I'm not exceedingly paranoid at the moment, nor am I psychotic enough to allow myself to think that this is anything except a truly awesome post and an excellent example of examining things by looking at them in our peripheral vision instead of straight on. Here is the post:

Urgent Communique. Top Secret.

from: commander h.b. wonderful
to: agent 5
time: 15:53

agent 5, the battle isn't going very well in this side of the brain, I hope it's going better in your position. the mind in our position has become a mine field of unexploded ordinance lurking just under the surface biding time until the trap can be set off with spectacular destruction and disruption of brain waves and nerve endings. nerve endings that are already screaming out in torment but the destruction isn't fatal-- it's not meant to be. their aim is to maim and torture the nerves. cause as much pain and confusion as possible so that they can take sick pleasure from knowing that we'll kill ourselves to stop the torment. but not until they have twisted, bent and sucked the marrow out of us. as you know agent 5, they like to play with their food first. bat it around a bit and watch it squirm and cry out to no one in particular. no one seems to hear our screams agent 5. they have us trapped inside a state of the art, airtight, sound proof bunker deep in the heart of our blurry brain. no one is aware of the torture chamber that is just beyond the eyes. as you know by now i am not sending this message via the normal electronic nerve pulse mail because they have hacked into the mainframe enough to manipulate the facial expressions of James and words to make it seem like everything is normal to all our stations. thus don't believe anything said by the collective James. my commands will only arrive via my personal messenger, the one who gave you this communique. i tried to cry in one last feeble attempt at contacting the outside world to alert them of our suffering but, as you know, those ducts have been empty and dry for years. if only I could hack back into the mainframe enough to command our brain to swallow a hand grenade. of course this is exactly what they want us to do but i'm tired of fighting, i don't even remember what we're fighting for agent 5. stay tuned but i don't know when i'll be able to contact you again. i can't risk them detecting you and compromising your position on your side of James's battered brain. you are one of the last agents still out in the field. we need you to keep up the good fight but as you know, they never stop, they never tire. you'll hopefully hear from me shortly but for now, run. good luck.

-commander h.b. wonderful.

Thanks hb, for capturing the words I couldn't find.