Faces of Masks of Faces

As you may have read now from my first post, my childhood was a bitter disappointment of underachievement. sympathy got the better of me. my life up to that moment was very limited and freeing at the same time. my world then was school, house, neighborhood, books, tv, and myself. that was it. i shuddered to think what was beyond those places. but as time would have its bizarre sense of humor, life turned everything to chaos. life gave me college. pre-adult years. as if battling and negotiating and at times surrendering to my hormones was not enough, life had to immerse me in a new society. - a group of people that was probably as confused as i am. And if they were, they sure knew how to hide it.

there i was, standing in the middle of this colossal edifice that was to be my university filled with faces and masks. i stood there and asked myself, "what the fuck am i doing here?"

however, as with all of my twisted and gray memories, most of which that i can recall are those that i did not understand. those memories, i see them in vivid colors.

woe is the man who has settled his eyes on a woman for the first time. it is a totally unsettling feeling.

i felt a strange machinery inside me awoke. i felt b e t r a y e d by my body that it created this 'monstrosity' without my knowledge. truly, woe is the man.

what i know now, i did not know then. i did not know then that this monstrosity would be the bulk of my very being now and i succumbed.

And then i met alice. oh alice where do i start. did it ever end?