I am a sick woman.

This was written for my Russian literature course. The styling may sound familiar, as we were supposed to channel Dostoevsky from his famous "Notes from Underground".

Part I

I am a sick woman. Once attractive, now withering with spiteful despair and denial, sure of what lies ahead but unable and unwilling to see a doctor. Unable by my own devices, set concretely inside me from others and with the years that have passed. My faith in the system is gone, replaced by the bitter, egotistically charged thought that I, I shall live regardless of their decision! Men walk without legs and women give birth without lovers, so why should a shadow on my brain keep me from thinking? I am above their practices.

 
I have been going on like this for twenty years.

I am forty now, carrying about in a profession that matters little to me and bears no resemblance to the career I desired at the supple age of twenty. I wanted to change the world without gaining credit- I wanted to fix what had been broken by so many around me, but I could not. I was too insignificant, as I am now. I am angry, apathetic, but have no intention of changing �" certainly not to please those around me! I am frail, but strong; determined, but not motivated. I have learned to play nice with the other boys and girls, and to succumb to those above me if I want to live. The romanticism of being bold has worn off; I feel no need to stand up to injustice. I have pushed away all of those who were dear to me, but can hardly remember their faces, let alone names. I take no responsibility for the pain I have inflicted on others, as no one took responsibility for the pain put forth on me.

The responsible were righteous and undeniably fully aware, carrying their Blackberry (dinosaurs, you say!) around like the cross, getting their news from electronic tablets. I could go on about newspapers and magazines rapidly becoming obsolete, but then I would be wasting both your time and mine, and yours is so precious to you. Do we blame the financially successful ones for our troubles? Of course. They cut corners to placate themselves at the inconvenience of the major population. When New York City more than tripled their metro rail fare cards, was it the privileged who suffered? Of course not. They hadn’t stepped foot on the E line a day in their life, at least past the mere age of fifteen. The working class paid, just as the working class always does. Did the financial bailout of 2008 benefit the meek in any way? Save your pathetic outcries for attention because they fall on deaf ears. I suffered then, as I will continue to suffer now. I live in a city I cannot afford to, in a time that has been most unkind to me �" and I, unkind to it! So, should blame be put upon moving forward? Perhaps creative destruction?

No, the real crime lies within your brothers and sisters, rather than the advancement of technology. They were so starved for attention, that all security had been compromised. “They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.” Benjamin Franklin, one of our “founding fathers” should have left this land to the natives. Perhaps the terrorist attacks of September eleventh never would have happened. Because of it (well, it was just an excuse to do what was due), airport security became more knowledgable of us than our lovers; we became known as our social security numbers and nothing more. 
This is who we are! This is who we are not! You are nobody, because society must advance. Society advances, even as old wisdoms stay in place. They say we have free will to do whatever we please �" that we live in “the greatest Nation on earth”; land of the free, home of the brave. They lied to us, but they did it gently and quietly. Land of the oppressed, home of the scared. Ironically enough, my sources tell me that one in one hundred of our citizens is in prison; in 2008, one in thirty two were incarcerated. We have the highest rate of incarceration in the world - this free country of ours!

They gave you the freedom of exposure, and you devoured it. Create a social networking profile! Put down your age, race, sexuality, religion, and soon a vial of blood. Say whatever you want about the president and foreign policy, and spin your conspiracy theories about September 11^th �" everyone knows that freedom of speech is essential, and we are giving it to you! You were fooled. They hide behind their computers and watch every movement you make, making sure to use whatever you are writing against you. Listen to your leaders. They say that health care reform is on its way; that everyone will be saved from death by poverty, but they lied to you. A nation built from the foundation of helping a fallen brother has turned into a nation who supports only those who are rich. We each bathe in bills, but their bills pay them and ours demand payment from us. You see, we are numbers in a system �" a large system. We are part of a machine obsessed more with looking good for the United Nations than for our citizens. What makes you think that if you work hard enough, it will pay off? Ha! It will not. When you hear the familiar grind of gears from the machine, remember one thing: you are no freer than I; the only difference is that I have accepted it, and that is the greatest freedom of all!

You see, I need no help from them and they clearly needed nothing from me other than my silent acceptance. I shall stay silent no more! It was their greatest pleasure, and it will now be my own. I shall talk, if, for no other reason, just to hear myself talk. Because I am a dying woman, and they have killed me. Oh, but I have killed myself.

I am becoming rather bored, and the windows are starting to chill with winter’s snow. Maybe, for just the time being, I will revisit the past. And so begins, Snyek.