it is a saturday nite and i just entered the building others call my home. the stench ripped through my nose and nauseated my body. it is no wonder I have not eaten this week. it is the smell of the rotten bodies, growing grotesque with age and decrepit with time. i look down and my gloves are unwrapping, sign of the mummy’s time spent decaying, decaying in the building for some unknown goal. it is an understanding that i seek, an understanding of myself. why, when i have so much that i could do, do i perch in this same seat as my back grows hunch and my mind dripples through my spine? all energy has been zapped from my system and the future’s brightness has dimmed to the color of this room, this eternal hell.

a dash of purple, a touch of red, a dribble of black seeps through my brain. i am about to collapse from lack of nurishment but the retch of food only appalls me. i wish my body would collapse as my mind has already 10 miles down that road. an ending would be appreciated but i cannot even gather the strength to do that. it doesn’t matter because nothing matters. the world is a void and i have the unfortunate luck of ending up as a part of it. i seek an alternative.

i felt rather blah today. correct that. i feel rather blah today. i haven’t quite figured out why though. a nice person told me that i might be depressed and i wouldn’t be suprised. actually, nothing would suprise me today. it is a blah day.

when i was five, my mother told me to think of exciting things when i was blah so i envisioned kaleidoscopes of rainbows. there is something intriguing about color. it made me want to be outside and i realized the source of my problems. i am always inside, always working on what i want to work on in an environment i don’t want to be a part of. damn stanford and its external modems. one day. the world will be beautiful when nothing depends on any location. i can code in the middle of the jungle, surrounded by zebras and giraffes. i hear zebras are cruel; i hope that is not true because they are cool looking. for now, i will stare at the geckos. they too are pretty; it must be the colors.

disallusioned by the traffik whipping by, i put one foot on the questionably solid ground before stepping backwards in shock. so many people on their way to nowhere- a maroon sedan squeals past an old teal volkswagon bug, hoping to beat him to the stoplite. it is such a ridiculous site. to think that people do this every morning and every evening. it is no wonder that heart attacks kill more people each year. i am about to have a heart attack watching them.

why for art thou amongst the fools trapped in the rat race? spinning in circles, direction in dream, getting closer to nothing… but faster, every moment faster. they may say that you are destined for heaven but heaven only comes after you go through levels of hell, hell unbearable and thoughts destroyed, destroyed by those who say they know better and that they have been where you are going. it is a good place, full of levels of comfort, full of happiness. but when you do not understand their happiness, why are you aiming for it in such vigor? with full heart, you head forward into the light of the already presumed, and already thought because each of us has a path to follow and follow it will will. dutifully. frustrated, you question each jump, each pace toward the inifinity of the non-existent. but you continue, trained like a rat in a maze. when you view it from above you realize the stupidity but what then? what does that prove? you are already trapped into the cycle. do not fight it; itt will cause you too much anger. accept it, find peace in it; they say life is a drug but i have found it a depressent. what is the end goal? why are you striving for this misplaced goal when you know the true goal? do yu question your goal? it is not good enough and no wone will let you have it. you must follow the pattern. frustration sets in. anger. harder. harder. why are thou in this pace? why doest thou despised me? Each enemy, each annoyeance only magnifies the way things should be, the peace you will once find. it is heaven, it is sacrifice. no other happiness…

as i wander into the thoughts of my frustration, i question my sanity. i know things are going downhill and i want so desperately to stop them from rolling but down they go. it magnifies my anger, my anger at the world for the cards i have been dealt. fairness is not life, that i know. but life depends on sanity and where is sanity in desperation. desperation crawls into your heart, into your soul, into your being and desperately pulls at everything you know and knew in an attempt to prove to you that you are not like them and never will be. they say you can catch. work and sacrifice and you too will experience their peace but no matter hat you realize your frustration and know it ain’t so. they are wrong. you will never catch up and you will never live their life. so you question why you bother but they tell you never to question; accept. accept that what they say is gospel. they know all since they have all. blind and without crutch, you grasp their words, fully aware that they can only hold you, maintain you for such a short time. and when the short time is up, where do you go? you are alone in your short-lived dream of understanding, dream of security. security is born. without it, you lose. you are the minority and you are lost. it is not possible to feel the happiness that they feel.

women. why are you born in such supression? why must everyone put you down as though you do not belong? you were here; you are one with them. fuck, you birthed them but yet they rule and they determine the god and you are not it. you are lost. they say you are weaker and meekly you agree because you know nothing else. you are lost. that is who you are- a lost soul with no direction forever. you will never catch up- they will forever push you down as though you are their little sex toys and have no use to them otherwise. strong, trying to reach out in sex and you are demeaned because you are playing their game and they do not like it. their games are theirs and you cannot even dream of playing along. you are female and you must behave like it. summission. it is your destiny. strip, show your naked body, bear your soul for they will not accept you else. Let them abuse you; they will anyhow. you cannot avoid it. you are a lost soul and no one will pull you up. either they are pushing you down or they are afraid that they too will be with you.

fair? you ask if my thoughts are fair? you question my judgement and you say what i can and cannot do based upon my gender. i too am a person and i am struggling in a great deal of excess pain. they will strike you down. give them time.

after watching the days pass in hope of finding the correct path for myself, i have discovered that i do not fit into traditional americana. i don’t like 9am and my brain still works at 5. mindnumbing experiences are not worth the measly $5 at the end of the day. i would rather enjoy my days and ignore the people that keep telling me i cannot do so. everywhere i turn in society, i see another human failure followed by a societal flaw. it is rather disappointing.

black shoes lacking scuffs. black linen socks neatly rolled. crisp newly ironed black pants synched by a black leather belt. white shirt, as crisp as the pants, evenly tucked into the pants. matching black jacket- 5 pockets and gold cuff links – looks brand new. deep maroon power tie chokes the soul of the wearer. his hair is combed and gelled in a direction that i once saw in a GQ magazine. each day, he goes to work like this, sits next to a matching individual, clocks in at 9, clocks out at 5. no comments, no questions, no thought. why do people expose themselves to such drudgery? i fell asleep thinking about it. i will always wear purple.

i wandered out of my house, alone and bored. it was not unlike any other day except for the fact that it was the day after the last one. but does time really matter when you don’t count it? Who created the timing scheme anyhow? 60 minutes in an hours, 24 hours in a day, 365.25 days in a year (gotta love leap year- created for mistakes). that person must have been as bored as i am now. i think the whole point of a clock is to have something to listen to when you are bored since it is so hard to hear your heartbeat from within your head.