Aha! The listlessness and passionlessness has all of a sudden come to an end. For months I have searched for drive, for purpose, for a reason to stand on two legs and walk upon this earth. And it all struck me quite simply in the middle of the media's characteristic fear-mongering: my new goal is to catch the bird flu. If I'm one of the few and stupid who actually continues in his refusal to wash his hands after use of public restrooms, I'll be hailed as a martyr. My death will educate the ignorant. Nature only gives a man this kind of opportunity once every century.

Salutations. A broken condom and several failed suicide attempts have brought me to this keyboard for you. I am twenty-one, lacking confidence and extraneously prolix by nature. Early on, I got an idea of who I was or what I looked like and have spent the rest of my life doing an impression of myself. Within a month of my twenty-second year, I am a virgin who lives with his parents. I have no car and no driver's license beyond learners; no job and no future plans other than finishing this paragraph. I realize this configuration makes me a poor excuse for a man or a human being, particularly in this cash-grab that passes for a culture, but you don't have to tell me; I'm well-aware and fully capable of pointing it out myself How is my time consumed when not succumbing to my compulsion for onanism? That would involve the maintenance of the many veneers and labels I juggle -- asexual vegetarian hip-hop dilettante; spirit perpetually oscillating between atheist and pseudo-Buddhist. Enjoy the show, and insert pity wherever you feel it necessary.