Since it is a cliche, I laugh now.

Lately, I have been going for days without doing much of anything. I eat, sleep, read, write and shit. I have stopped bathing regularly and I ran out of deoderant about a month ago. I have stopped changing clothes.

I occassionally steal dimes, nickels and quarters from my father. He notices without mention. I use the money to fund my eating habits.

Each day, I search for something to look forward to. I know I am searching for reasons to live.

I find it rather pathetic that my greatest goal in life is to move out of my father's house. I am afraid it may take me five years to simply get a job. I have never been unemployed before. Now, I read reluctantly and I write - mostly blogging - out of habit.

My perspective on life used to change depending on my location. California was the only place that made me believe, at least on the surface, in multiculturalism. New York taught me that money and class was more important than race. Living in Detroit reminds me of the issues that are uniquely African American.

The most pathetic thing about my condition is that I do not know what happened. That is the most pathetic part.

It is cliche to think, 'one day I will look back on these days and laugh.' Since it is a cliche, I laugh now. Devils sit in corners, too. Perhaps devils blog, too. Perhaps devils read, too. I laugh anyway. I never believed in devils, anyhow. Only a God attempting to explain the limits of freewill to a mass of unique individuals. Pain is inevitable.

I am growing used to being hated without hating. I understand the harm and necessity of Christianity. Both fitted together in an unknown history from illegible stories, to chattel inhumanity, to beleaguered beauty racing against stereotypes and statistics.

I used to embarrass easily; now, I do not know what shame is.