Daily, it seems, I feel the alien Presence that resides within, Slowly pressing life from my Faculties in a bland attempt To reign in full over my ravaged body. Neither do I madly oppose nor readily Submit to my ruthless attack, But attempt to retain a shred Of normalcy in my existence. Life takes what it will, and Being a product of two lives, I am subject to be called To nonexistence, as is all creation. Nature permits no flattery... No favoritism...hence the Ultimate equality of mammals, Whether man or beast, in death. September 27, 1982 Lauren Isaacson The third and last class of the day was geography, dealing with the conflicts of urban life and the planning of cities. It was what I would call a "crash course," as it was a full quarter of work condensed into a mere four weeks' time. The first test, being somewhat of a midterm exam and covering a great deal of the text and lecture material, was given after about two weeks; I need not say, perhaps, that I found the class to be quite exhilarating. Indeed, it kept me on my toes, if I may borrow a well used phrase, and taxed my eyes as well. My efforts proved worthwhile, however, and I scored highly on the initial exam. A final exam and a project were the only remaining obligations of the class, leaving two English courses as my sole exertions for the rest of the quarter. It wasn't a bargain, but then nothing could be had without making an allowance of some consequence. After attending my class, I would gratefully return home, exhausted, and lie down for several hours. I generally did no homework on days I went to school, saving my energy for days off and weekends. School coincided with drudgery, for I was no longer deriving any pleasure from life. If I was not in school or studying diligently, I was thoroughly fatigued and unable to pursue diversions of my liking. It seemed to me that I was nearly committing suicide through the over-exertion of my failing body, playing the role of a normal person when I was unfit for the rigorous portrayal. As the days passed, I began to see the utter ridiculousness of my situation. I felt lifeless after school, and began to wonder why I maintained the effort; I had no foreseeable future in which I could utilize the knowledge obtained in college, and my time and energy thus spent gradually took on the guise of futility. It was after two occasions of pathetically wetting my nightgown (due to the fact that my exhausted body did not heed the brain's warning of distress) that I decided to accept defeat. The demeaning situation described above occurred only during sleep after school days, which, consequently, were the days that caused the bulk of my exhaustion.