A solipsistic individual has written the following words on one of the walls in his padded cell : 

It is with great sadness that I have to inform you about a very sad fact indeed : you are all non-existent. You are merely avatars instructed to write your words in form of comments. Your minds are that of a robopath, you compute and respond in an ordered fashion. I believe that , no, I am absolutely convinced that you ought to know this simple, albeit very painful , fact of life : there is no life, and you are my creations, to accompany me in my quest in improving my writing skills. This is all but a computer program I have devised to be like Disney, to experience the audience that - contrary to what Oscar Wilde is purported to have said - is not a disaster. You may think you have locked me up in this padded cell in order to ward me off from society. The truth is, the sad truth is : it is a little contest of mine , whereby by locking me here, you really ought to keep me here. For when I leave, the program is destined to end. And your comments will be no more, for I have gathered enough data to perfect my creation. Let us play the game, shall we ? You can deny it all you want but deep down you know that you are just that : a non-entity.

One of the doctors walked by the cell. He looked at the writing. He felt really uneasy. Could it be true? It is better to call it a delusion and keep him here rather than an overactive imagination and release him. He would not want that, right ? RIGHT.

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