I've almost run out of things to say. That's a first I suppose. It's late at night and my mind is devoid of any good ideas. And I still have to do my math homework.

I've grown up in such a nice home. My family cares so much about me, and they accept and support me in (almost) everything I do. And I take it for granted, I admit it. Rarely do I realize what priviledge I've had. And I don't lie to my parents. I am a very honest person. And perhaps this is because I have very little to lie about. I feel I make the right and smart decisions. I'm a good student. I don't do drugs. I don't sleep around. I am not a typical American teen. And I see so many of my friends having to lie to their parents, just to get out of the house. Hell, so many people lie, and not just teens. It seems as though dishonesty is now an inborn trait. Just a flaw that we have accept in ourselves. And what about conscience? What about it? A thing of the past if it ever really did exist in the first place. Morals have been thrown out the window, and who's to blame? We have made advances throughout history, that is something that I cannot deny. Slavery used to be universally accepted, and that is one myth we've disspelled. Though hatred still runs rabid. I keep thinking something's going to change, and I wish I truly believed I could make a difference. But I think I admit to myself that as long as I try and as long as I know that I did as much as was in my power, then the struggle will have been legit. If I can bring happiness and understanding, then I will have accomplished something in my life. There is nothing more fulfilling than knowing that you've helped someone, that you've brought some joy into another's life. I'm depressed by dishonesty, and I feel sympathy for those who are afraid of the truth.

My English teacher would kill me. I have more than veered steeply away from my topic sentence in all my ramblings.

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