During the reign of Elizabeth I, there was a tax put on men's beards.

I also would like to add to my previous post that C4 and D6 must have been very popular choices among the other chips and candybars. I can only wonder about the possibilities that my rented neighbors chose before me. What could have possibly been so popular?

I bet it was the Reese's. Damn.

<3<3<3

My professor said something quite depressing, [he] mean[s] "uplifting," today. It was basically that his time has passed. We are the future, our ideas make the future. Because the youth, their the ones with ideas. His fifteen minutes of fame are over, he's now out of the limelight. He's had his chance to impact the world, and now that's finite. He meant, we keep him young.

My professor's something like a mere forty years of age.

Is that really what it's like? Will we feel that way the moment we blow the candles over the hill? I'm halfway home to done. But being "done" is only half of a life.

I mean, we all thought it was over when our family pours around our trop cher caskets. As I was saying, in less than a couple of hours, I'll be 7,054 days old. And I have 7,556 days left until I turn forty.

I've been pretty busy being burped and schooled for a good portion of my past days, but I'm done now. I can vote. I didn't vote (because I wasn't registered), but I can smoke (which I don't) and go to war (which I won't [talk about a free trip to overseas]). I mean, I can't legally drink (only 617 days til that), but I'm pretty much responsible for myself. My parents are kind enough to continue to pay my car insurance and give me a free place to stay when I go home, but aside from that, I'm a "grown-ass adult" (as someone in my Creative Writing class repetitively said today about a man jumping in a tiger's cage, high or not).

It's time for me to start producing. (No "re" there, note.)

Where are my brilliant ideas? Where is my affect on the future? What have I done that's noteworthy? (Honestly, let's be real, I was more impressive when I was still in K-12.)

I haven't created any beautiful works of art that will hang in a museum. I haven't written any fine literary pieces that will be shared in a textbook one day. I haven't discovered a scientific element. I haven't mused up my own recipe. I haven't saved a life. I'm not really knowledgable enough on anything to carry on an intelligent conversation or have my own soap box. I didn't even vote in the election.

I have done nothing remarkable.

Que CROWD: No one expects you to have (yet)!

Maybe that's true, maybe it isn't. But I see the next 20 years ahead of me, and I don't picture any great contribution to the world, save maybe a child who can contribute more than I ever tried to.

I couldn't tell you what I'd like to contribute to society if I wanted to. I don't know what I would give.

Where are my brilliant, youthful ideas? Where is my motivation? My passion?

Ranting. Ranting here, where no one, even my kind followers, want to read through all that I've typed.
Singing in the car, singing loudly, when I know the words, when the vocals are soulful.

Really. What does make me so special?

Dear World, Dear God, Dear Reader,
What do you want from me? What do I possibly have to give to you?
Sincerely,
Self

<3<3<3

If you were stuck in a virtual reality, more importantly, your virtual reality, you wouldn't ever leave, would you? Is that wrong?

<3<3<3

I lost my train of thought. Chaos.

I've got it. Deception. Someone's been stealing my ideas. That's my excuse.