The class of the almost new Millenium Forever : by Cumbustikhan.

Ah, the senior year of high school. What unbridled joys are left unexplored in the carefree lives of maturing adolescents? Certainly not relaxation, individual expression, or meaningful gratification. But sometimes I wonder if these acts are merely tangibles, if these words are 3:30 with Zach Morris and Kelly Slater-- always leaving time to change channels and use the bathroom during the commercial break. How many attempt to incorporate televised abstractions into their lives, always waiting and hoping for a spectacular season finale with romance and adventure? The exact number is meaningless, but the cause of this disillusionment is fascinating and terrifying.

We are the class of the almost new millenium forever. Class of lukewarm beer and stale econ videos, with sixth period off to process college applications; to serve fried chicken making bland calculations. Class of Areal world@ preparations, dry Cliff=s notes and sexual frustrations. But there is always tomorrow as we repeat yesterday.

We are forever practicing and training, preparing for that messianic day: The day life really begins. The day of comfort and security; wealth and good name. The day of having the ability to proclaim AI joked around with Mr. Belding@ and have everyone believe you.

And all the while we simmer and boil, stewing over our T.V. dinner education with desire in our eyes and reality on our face. The broken mask of high school constantly pieced back together. The class of the almost new millenium forever.

Of course this is a generalization with wild assumptions and exaggerations, but to a few this will sound familiar, and to a fewer this will sound sane. To these people, I am sorry.