I don't fucking know

I don't know why I'm teaching. I don't have a grandiose purpose. I simply chose to do so. 

I don't why I'm a Corp member. I don't have ulterior motives. I simply chose to do so. 

Yet you keep pestering me. 

Asking me so many questions. 

What do you want to do afterwards? When are you going to get started? How did teaching help you?

Speaking to me as if my life is

on hold. But it's not. 

I have begun living. When I was in college my life was on hold. When I was in high school. When I 

         sleep.

Working is the poor man's life. Working is the rich man's hobby. Working is a life in its own. 

Otium est Negotium, Negotium est Otium. No work, no play. 

I don't need to explain my success to you. I may be unsuccessful. I don't have an explanatory story of 

    self to keep me grounded. 

I have moments that led me to this classroom. I am through with developing my linear auto-biography.

My story is non-linear. It's multi-faceted in untrue. It's deceptive and confusing. I am Raymond Arroyo or Junior. 

I wish I could give you the answers you want. I wish I could make you proud. I cannot, I am sorry. 

I wish I could write pretty prose. Develop images in the text that begin to tread on the pages. 

           I cannot. I am sorry.