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Hundreds of millions on new lab facilities that will be out of date before they are finished.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