17 minutes of my life left. As if that were all that's left to live, yet I'd choose to type aimlessly into windows that hold blank words and talk to people who ask me what i'm doing here, and I tell them I'm just looking for a chat. Now 15 minutes. And still I'd sit there wondering why i should be talking to people to whom I can neither attach a face nor a personality - and at that, for the 15 minutes I have left. Is it like this when you reach the end? Or should this be the best you can hope for at the end? At least, tonight, after my battery's gone, I can plug this machine back into its socket and let it suck up a full life, and tomorrow it will be good to me again. Ah, yes, and that, must be the mindless addiction to technology - that after a reboot, we can spend another life figuring out why we're all still hanging around.