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A Day in the Life of Lev
Lev wakes up to the sounds of alarms ringing. School loomed. He lays in bed for a minute, pondering whether or not to attend class that day. He thinks to himself that free will is a treacherous idea, that whether he goes to school or not, he looses in a catch-22. Go, and learn nothing, listen to teachers indulge their own egos for a better part of the day, and miss out on some good sleep. Don’t go, and regret having done so, missing out on learning, which may effect the grades, which may effect your G.P.A., which may reduce your chances of going to grad school, and condemning you to live the humble life of a dishwasher, bus driver, or factory worker. A fucked up chain of causality, Lev thinks to himself. Lev does not consider himself a materialist, though he wishes to lead the same comfortable life he has led since the day he was born. He decides to go.
Lev never eats before going to school. He never showers either. He would rather spend the time it takes to do these things sleeping. Lev’s favorite activity is sleep. Your run of the mill psychiatric doctor would assume, just from this fact, that Lev is depressed, lives a miserable existence, and sleeps as a form of escapism. They may be right. They may be wrong. Either way, when he isn’t sleeping, Lev is constantly searching for a way to kill time. Thus, he decides to go to school in order to alleviate his painful, burdensome boredom.
Lev opens the door to his car at the same time he always does. 9:12. Lev enjoys driving. Something about the cold wind blowing into his face, the gentle rhythm of the road, and the sounds of his favorite music blaring at the decibel level of a biplane cause him to feel at ease with himself in spite of all his worries and woes. Perhaps it is the monotony of the drive which pleases him; no need to think, to interact, to perceive. Just keep your eyes on the car in front of you and ride along.
School passes uneventfully. Same old classes, new lectures on the same old subjects, reinforcing Lev’s dislike for all things academic, which is ironic considering Lev is shooting to become a teacher. A crazy product of a crazy world perhaps, Lev thinks to himself, referencing both the paradox of his present mode of existence as well as his aspirations.
Lev climbs into bed. He loves to dream. And unlike many of the things in this irrational, confused, bent-out-of-shape world, he understands why. Lev likes to dream as a form of escapism. The shrinks are right. Where else can one truly tune out the world and all of its arbitrary rules and conventions which enclose the mind? Thank god, Satan, circumstance, whoever or whatever for the subconscious. Lev smiles to himself in his last waking moments. He recognizes the absurdity surrounding him, and the pain of living it from day to day is enough to make him laugh.
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How can you expect a man who's warm to understand a man who's cold?
- Solzhenitsyn "Ivan Denisovich"
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