Friday Morning, tired and disappointed

The haunting fact about the disenfranchised is that they just might be right and therefore your defensive optimism may be totally unfounded. The same could be said of people that believe this is all a dream.
I'm a part of something that I have no faith in.
Just how broad that statement applies....I don't know.
This is a specter world around me, transient, a trial of some form.
I wonder if I mean what I say about my future? Is the academic fire out of me or do I just need to get out of here for a while.

The janitor who survived massive indeterminate anal bleeding went on to be quite the bingo hustler. He told me "Good Morning". There was a chilled sanctity to the morning and I felt the aggregate human meaning of what he said. We had made it through the mysterious and powerful night, like the quiet and solemn survivors of mass and indiscriminate violence. I partook of the general gluttony of life and it felt like pure gold running down my gullet. My head swam with the smell and greasy texture of the mish-mash of food on my plate. I was so relieved that pure confounding sleep came upon me in several intentionally uncomfortable positions. I awoke to a siren on the street and the thought that I was in a burning building. The first and only thought that hit my mind and adrenaline sped heart was disappointment.