"The five minutes I spend thinking of you, I lose thinking of myself." Imagine, if you will, if you can, the legacy made by human beings on this planet. We were a race full of race, dignity and power. We wanted everything that's laid in front of us to converse with us. I sit here strapped to my desk to a insulin drip trying my hardest to think of something to write here, but in reality, the computer should know by now what i want. I use it every day. Why can't it learn? Why can't it ^$*^ing remember my delicate touch, my sensitive yet masculine hands caressing it's keys. The keys that open more doors than any other hunk of metal or plastic. I am Ian Bolton. Just another human being. One amongst millions. No aim, ambition or goals. Just a thorough belief that eventually mankind will tumble and we will see an all new species in this world. Something that will be eco-friendly. The earth will fight back. It will wipe the smiles of your massive cars and houses and send you to the compost pit, just where you belong. In that compost heap in the mid corner of the world you will live happily as a smelly little organism without any more stresses or worries. Only then will life be truly remarkable.