There are so many good ideas but it is still easy to pick out the best ones.
You decide that any of the best ideas will do and pick the lonely classic of disillusioned modern youth, tentatively titled "You leave the secular life behind for thirty years of devotion to harsh Ordeals in the sewers, becoming one with the waste and disease of civilization"
The words are really flowing, flowing so well that you don't break your concentration until you've used up every page in the notebook. It is three days later. Your hands are trembling and you are starting to feel the effects of sleep deprivation. Out of the corners of your eyes flit the figures of pointy men in brown rags.