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1st Floor.

 Bartle Library

Bartle Library, Binghamton University, New York

 

This damn place and a merciless god are sure to be the death of me.

 

Dumb bastards can quote from any book but have no idea how to take care of a fucking elevator.

 

A god who was a Shiksa’s weeping wall.

 

Course offerings with no more content other than political correctness.

 

A god who never understood me.

 

Billions of dollars being spent on new construction that is already cracking and settling.

 

A god who listens only when he wants something.

 

Hundreds of millions on new lab facilities that will be out of date before they are finished.

 

A god whose feet are made of clay.

 

The bourgeoisie attending the Anderson Center for the Arts; all pseudo critics as they jump up and holler “BRAVO, BRAVO.” These idiots didn’t understand the cryptograms behind performance.

 

A god whose truth is kept in Pandora’s box.

 

The shame of past professors; using their grant money for pretty things not covered by the grant documentation.

 

A god who does not answer my plea.

 

The university is dead,

 

God is comatose,

 

and I am a card carrying nihilist.

 

Who was I before I was me?

 

Better yet, what will I be when I return?

 

Be patient; it will only be three days.

 

TOMORROW:  0th Floor

 

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