The Sharp Erosion of Time. At the End We All Drop Into the Sea.

It wasn't until I went to college and I got my first motorcycle that I understood the thrill of speed.

Vin Diesel

I am tormented by the memory of youth. Not my own. I was a glorious sparrow in an endless field of grain. It is the memory of youth I ran into today that torments me so.

Is it not enough that I toil daily in the knowledge factory, shoveling facts and proper indentation formats into the vast furnace that fuels our future? No, apparently not. My Cul de Sac has become the territory of a gang of miniature Hell's Angels. Hell's Imps if you will. Riding around on their stupid electric bicycles and generally just being children. Isn't there some sort of child jail kids can go to after school? Instead they just ride around on their weird electric bicycles. Electric bicycles are to motorcycles what vapes are to cigarettes. They are all some degree of stupid, but a few of them punctuate your life with indelible dorkiness. I can only imagine how disappointed their prom dates will be when they pull up on their razor scooters or pedelecs or whatever those things are. Kids should stay inside after school and play video games or harass the elderly at the mall. Also, on a side tangent, I never wanted to live on a Cul de Sac. I always expected I would live in a cave with a wild animal and we'd spend the days hunting together and the nights curled up next to a waterfall, like the majestic wild beasts we are. Instead I am stuck in the suburbs like a redwood growing between the cracks in the medium priced pavers some accountant picked for his driveway.

Period one and two took the FRQ Concept application test today and honestly it was probably way to easy. I bet someone still fails it. Period three all pretended to be in various clubs so that they could get out of class. I don't blame them. I don't like it in there either.