Broken glass shards. Haphazard debris left-over from last night's episode. One more shattered mirror. One more outburst. Shit's getting old. This time. Heh. This time I fooled them. Slipped. Fell. Ground my shoulder into the sharp glass. These well-fed idiots have gotten tired of my fits. My rantings and ravings are starting to bore the orderlies. Good. They overlooked the splinter I slid under my bunk. For later.