So.
And so.
A segueway.
Yet I hadn't even started. I haven't started? I'm 18! There, there is where I should have started. Start adulthood. But "finish" teenage years? Oh Glory glory be. What have I done, precisely? Precise, a precision, cision, cisere, cut - a direct line cutting off one section of a way of thinking about yourself? What utter
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Eighteen is such a big number... but I don't think it's going to affect me at all, besides panic.
You can vote now, and if you do something illegal you can get your name in the paper. What joys.
ps aren't you glad I got those ring pops?
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I love my shifty glance in that picture. And my pants.
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Ashley: "Happiness is not an end-all, be-all for me."
Happiness is not the end-all be-all, Mema.
I will commit sabotage in Middletown, Rhode Island and be slandered in the papers. I will spill my thinktank all over the sidewalk and kidnap Raytheon employees and citizen bankers. I will tie them to rocking chairs by their neckties and blow them kisses while feeding them vanilla cake pie.
"Poetic terrorism," says the Newport Daily Rag. "Everyone's in flames."
We will be unmovable! We will be an unmovable feast of ashes. Ashes. We will fall among the cash registers and fill them with silt from the bottom of the sea!
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A kid eats a piece of candy 'cause he likes it and it makes him happy.
A man rapes a woman in a forest because he feels better when he is in control.
A man steals a medication he can't afford for his dying wife so they can live happily for some time yet to come.
A Spanish explorer slaughters countless innocents in the search for some immortality spring so he can be happy forever.
A monk flagellates himself in an attempt to purge himself of worldly sins so he can get into paradise.
Etc
Etc
Etc
(Tee hee King and I)
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