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Hundreds of millions on new lab facilities that will be out of date before they are finished.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