I am nineteen.  This is almost twenty.  Double that age is forty.  When I was fifteen, i used to think "if i double my age, i'll only be thirty.  Fifteen years has seemed like an unbearable amount of time, it will take an equally unbearable amount of time to reach thirty, and therefore i need not concern myself with life being too short."  However, I know my logic at that age was incorrect.  Almost imperceptibly, time seems to be going faster.  Although techinically it cannot (a second is by definition one second) it seems like I am aging at a more accelerated pace.  There seems to be so much to contemplate during these days when I should be thinking about little else other than scholastics.  Obviously, until I reach that point where I can say "I have thought about everything I want to think about" I will not be ready to die.  Lately, weeks vanish and I cannot remember doing anything in them; did I exist in that time?  Was I alive?  Equin0x stated, "can you die if you don't have a life?"  Whlie the answer is yes, it is vauge.  You were really never alive to begin with, and thus you cannot, by definition, cease to be alive. I spent half of today wondering why there are so many drunk drivers, yet none of them manage to hit me.  Obviously, today was not a good day.  It's odd how when most people are out looking for death, it is never found. When I try to socialize with other people, I assume I must be extremely boring.  I'm not hardly amusing and the things I say are interesting only to me.  I don't talk about much, and when I do, it's usually some vague assertion or opinion.  My way of socializing is more like having a monologue with listeners or onlookers.  Those who listen merely wait for a point to interject something which pertains to them, or say nothing at all.  People in general don't want to hear other people's thoughts or opinions.  They want to be asked questions about themselves, simple little yes and no questions which do not require much length or drawn-out thought.  When I walk around campus, I see boys and girls in large groups, usually one boy to several girls, or in larger groups of proportionate numbers.  In these bunches, I see that animal nature is paralleled by human nature.  I see a male lion with a herd of females.  The pack sticks together for safety, to ward off attacks of others, to prey upon unsuspecting third parties.  The idea of a pack disgusts me, namely because I feel no allegiance to any and I am often the prey, I think.  I see one lead lemming, with others following the path that is already tread before them, off the proverbial cliff towards a life of ignorance which rivals my emptiness.