It began with a little dream I've had since I was a small child.  Hold that thought.  It seems that once we're grown up the dreams that we've had since we were children have gradually faded away like dried flowers or paper we preserve in sheaves of plastic.  These remnants stubbornly cling to the transparent faces like sticky cobwebs but we know that the actual colors and fibers have withered away and crumbled into dust.  My mind becomes an old book I used to read over and over again; the pages that once were familiar are now blurred or entirely forgotten.  Perhaps I've cluttered the pages with too many things---markings and trinkets that those good old dreams on which I used to rely are no longer available to me.  I should have guessed that once I've grown up, some things will no longer seem important to me whereas others would mean the world.  But I've always been nostalgic.  Now the terrible truth is, I've lost many of my childhood dreams.  I miss them---but I don't hate being an adult.  So maybe it's not too bad after all. ~January 5, 2004

I'm an adamant supporter of the status quo in most situations.  For instance, most days I'm most content sitting my butt on a couch and staying there as long as humanly possible.  Actually that doesn't really define status quo.  I have been sticking to the same preferences for the past decade or so though.  That's pretty creepy even to me.  Maybe there comes a time that even a lazy bum like me admits it's time for some changes.  Maybe like shaving off all my hair and then painting my head red as Woody Woodpecker?  I think not.  But sometimes even changes as trivial as uh, a nail color, can seem as drastic as crazy hairdo.  Maybe I want to be different and maybe sometimes I crave the ability to stand out and make myself known.  I've had my moments too.  Of course, my tendency for inactivity or just plain sloth gets in the way of such "colorful" ambitions.  But just you wait, big blue world, one of these days, I'm going to come out as flamboyant as a gay parade in West Hollywood. ~January 6, 2004

So there's this novel and the protagonist is a young girl who is...well...a ghost.  She finds her way onto a boat and meets a young boy and falls in love with him.  I don't why physically she is as tangible as a living and breathing person but she is.  Of course, their love is inadequate due to the fact that she doesn't breath or feel.  Hmmm...wouldn't you know it's a stupid story. ~January 6, 2004

I was talking with Grace today and I start thinking about last Thursday and what a scary and eye-opening experience it was.  What originally started out as a simple celebratory act turned into a few hard moments of terror and danger.  In the short while I've been on this Earth, I've faced more than one incident where I have prayed to God that I would emerge alive and wiser from.  But on this day, I have never felt so helpless and fascinated by the inability of man to control his surroundings and ultimately his fate.  All these movies about superheroes and Lois Lanes who are rescued by chiseled human locomotives have deceived me into thinking that reality is just as ideal and people are just as out of harm's way.  Thinking onto those hypothetical situations in which you are asked to save your sister or your friend, I want to laugh because how likely will you be able to save either from the crushing oblivion of human bodies?  And angrily I think how would you be able to cling onto your loved ones if you are so weak that you can't even protect yourself.  Whether you be six feet tall or 5'3" person, reality leaves no survivors.  I'm just glad I alive and healthy enough to this day to continue and think on these scary things.  Thanks be that most of mankind of too reasonable or too stupid to waste away their thoughts on the brevity of human life and the flimsiness of our bodies. ~January 6, 2004

Frequently, I find myself feeling nervous that someone will see beyond that false smile and forced composure and discover the chaos and pent-up energy that boils within.  Yet I harbor a desire to find such someone to help me divulge into the confusion and dissect the complexities and frustrations that too often seem menacing to one's sanity.  Often it feels like all I want to do is talk but never do I find the ear to listen to the well-wishing words from the people I love and respect.  Supposedly, a person is his own villain who weaves a web that entraps himself through his own faults.  He creates one sticky mess after another never seeming to stop and consider and amend.  Possibly, this is the most accurate story of my life.  Perhaps, I suffer such a fate because I think upon these things too much.  Last night, right after I came back from the club, I laid on my bed for nearly two hours just thinking onto my life and future and staring into the darkness that acts like a shroud shielding me from prying eyes and minds.  I found it very refreshing.  For one, I decided now that I'm going to become a professor in literature.  It seems like the job I would most enjoy.  Also I also resigned to thinking that perhaps I will not find my soul mate in college considering that the boys I love intellectually and spiritually make the best friends while the boys I find sexually pleasing are merely "of the moment" and preferably equivalent to an PG-rated "one-night stand."  It is truly mind over matter because again and again I resist my bodily needs in order to stick to my idealistic principles.  Stupidly, I believe that because my morals and ideals will not move others, I must uphold them myself to the strictest degree.  And sadly enough, I'm am often both so right for all the wrong reasons.  Hence, it's  difficult to almost agonizing but during finer moments I consider it rather empowering as a person and a woman.  I suppose when the time is ripe I will subside.  Anyway, I found this all very interesting and enlightening and also strange because it had followed a night of wild dancing and antics.  Which is as usual one of my weirder reactions to ordinary processes in life.  Little wonder such an incident is why sometimes I feel so isolated from reality because I can't see how other people can ever be like myself and have hidden it so long from me.  Possibly, I am truly the most bizarre person I've ever met aside from criminals, psychos, and the truly socially unfortunates (i.e. Hunchback of Notre Dame and certain actual people I won't name).  Thus, I must suppress my true self and release it in spurts now and then (like last night).  I'm thinking that people like me will be strange and out-of-place in the world (at least in our own minds) for the rest of our lives.  I can't imagine being anyone else (which, oddly enough, I feel is normal) thus, I will always be abnormal.  Gradually though, I feel a sense of acceptance coming into all aspects of my life.  Perhaps, this is the greatest change?  This will be the best thing that will ever happen to me?  ---To feel free to be my myself with my permission.  That is my sincere wish for the future.  To be care-free and to accept life as it takes its toll on my youth and represses my "Don Quixote" perspective of society and the world.  ~January 9, 2004

The concept of friendship encompasses a diverse array of relations with numerous persons of distinct nature.  The word "friend" seems so deceptively simple for such a multifaceted definition and acts so inadequately to describe the deeply unique connections that one makes with different people. ~January 11, 2004

The sun is shining extra brightly outside today.  Somehow I know wearing a light long sleeve is not going to suffice for the biting wind in the mornings.  Neither will it do for the eventual warming during the later part of the day.  Yet wearing this shirt will prevent me from being either too cold or too hot by minimizing the least amount of clothing I must put on or take off in order to adjust to the temperature change.  Somehow I doubt it.  That's what my life feels like these days.  I try to adopt the attitude and behavior most neutral in order to prepare for the bumps.  Yet I feel like everything always comes in massive assaults, leaving me emotionally battered and brutally diminished in force.  I pray that life is planning out a benevolent destiny for all of us because that's what really is going to keep anyone of us going.  Otherwise, the worries will just eat away until you become a empty-sacked scarecrow with limited purpose in life.  It really is a matter of time before you fall apart and ultimately die.  Thus, it is all right to be optimistic.  Because life is hardly predictable and rarely controllable.  But perhaps mind over matter can suffice.  True happiness can be found in hope. ~January 12, 2004

Yesterday I went with Steve to see Abandoned Pools perform live in Ground Zero, a cozy little coffeehouse on the USC campus.  It was the most perfect, most surreal, most exhilarating experience I've had in a long time.  I feel so complete now because I've realized now that watching them perform that I sincerely loved their music and the way the essence of their words and sounds bring me to a state of ecstasy.  I truly felt happy in the moment as I sang and danced to the all so comforting harmonies.  Never have I in any other moment felt so complacent with myself.  I didn't care that I looked crazy or stupid; I just wanted to embrace whole-heartedly this thing with I loved so much and I could expression my true self in those brief instances of happiness.  Now I can believe that I love Abandoned Pools because I want to and not for the sake of loving something.  I'm glad of this because it's so hard to find good-to-honest connections with the rest of the world today.  We believe in something so much to find that in reality it we can easily do without it or feel little sorrow over its loss.  I reflect sadly and a little nostalgically over those dark moments in which I thought the world would crash and crumble just because of our ignorance and our pettiness and our flippant attitudes about what is important in our lives without any real thought into it.  Now I realize that there's really no formula to it and that beautiful things just come into our lives and make sense.  How would I know that Abandoned Pools could affect me in this way?  I have always supposed I loved AP because they were an obscure independent band that I could adore privately and without the judgment of others.  But gradually I have realized I love them because I feel such connection to the melodies, the lyrics, the harmonies, and the extra techno-y crap that just sounds so fucking good with the gritty rock sound.  And I sense the sincerity of Tommy Walter's words, I can understand the pain of being in a perfectly normal world and suffering nevertheless some kind of alienation from it.  His poetry is infinite in its interpretations for me.  I feel like I can apply so many significant aspects in my life to them, especially "Blood" and "Flourescein."  And upon meeting him last night, I feel even more love for their music.  I realize that even in real life, they make me feel angry, sad, and glad.  ---I am happy to have seen them live.  It's not for the autograph, it's not the pictures, it's not having my ears blasted and for the singing and dancing and celebration of their vibrancy and genius and youth.  It is this feeling of being human and seeing that anyone and everyone around me, including my idols, are just as human and scared as me about the world.  Because I can feel stupid yet so comforted by his half-hearted words thrown my way.  I can't care that I'll never be able to talk and chill with them as the best of friends and I'm sure that I wouldn't want to discuss with them about the dark reality of life.  I'm sure it would be way too disturbing and awkward.  But instead that's what public art and music is for.  It is to interpret according to your needs and desires and as long as I understand and respect that separation, I can continue to love Abandoned Pools and respect Tommy, Sam, and the drummer dude who I unfortunately did not get to meet.  Perhaps I will meet them again (the first guitarist Sam is pretty hot actually)  and I know in the future I will definitely go to more of their performances.  I just hope that I can receive the kind of lesson that I have learned today.  And I hope I may always feel completed by the good things in life---like good food, good music, and good loving. ~January 27, 2004

"In a night such as is this to me, a man lives - lives a whole century of ordinary life - nor would I forego this rapturous delight for that of a whole century of ordinary existence. ---Edgar Allan Poe "Balloon Hoax."  What do you suppose I should make of my nights?  Spent by honey-dipped, tea-stained and sanguine joys.  Blame commercialization and capitalism for my lousy response.  I don't see myself has having a good writing style.  It sort of just comes out in such a way that it seems contrived.  Maybe it's using all those SAT vocab words that I occasionally pick and use until I forget about them (my mind is like a bank with the smallest reserve in the world, I can't remember things for longer than a couple of weeks).  I think that I have not truly tasted "life" until now.  I realize it has to do with my long period of fermentation and frustration as a angry child/teenager.  Now I've reach that stage (in terms of Enlightenment, I've reached the second stage, Codification) in which I can finally determine how to go about achieving the things I want for myself.  Perhaps it's because I finally sort of understand the kind of person I am.  Or I've finally accepted or learned to put on that mask.  I feel like I can candy-coat things nowadays so that I can finally feel happy.  It sounds bit sad and scary but it works.  Anyway last last night was my moment of rapturous delight as of now.  I can still remember Tommy Walter's lips moving and those wonderful sounds emitting from his lips.  Clashing of drums, ripping guitars, and that sonorous voice, oh that voice! ~January 28, 2004

I feel kind of strange explaining myself to people these days.  I attribute it to my being a superstitious person and I don't want to risk jinxing the good things that seem to fall more easily in my lap these days by admitting them.  Also the fact that events never seem as glamorous or sometimes as real as the way I describe them to people.  Regardless of how accurate a story-teller, I try to be (or not be), I always get an inkling that the person is molding their interpretation in a way that either pretties up or dumbs down the spectacle of the tale I am recounting for them.  This realization really irks me and I feel guilty that I have said something that I unintentionally skewed in my favor.  That is if it is something good I am telling.  Or if I mention something not so pleasant-sounding, the person takes it liberally and places unfair judgment.  Thus, I've resolved to speak less these days even though I'm actually a very talkative person.  Or at least speak more harmlessly and frivolously.  This usually works in my favor although I consider rather a waste of the person's time.  Then again, most people I know expect to hear fantastic or scandalizing stories, to get more bang for their buck.  Which really irritates me most of all.  Therefore, I decide not to say anything at all sometimes.  Which is worse because it gets people pretty curious and by the time I forget and spill, the story is so old that it's absurdly outdated.  Ah, fuck it. ~February 1, 2004   

We were taking our break the other day for my Honors Collegium class on Fantastic Journeys and Professor Purves was a bit bored so she decided to chat a little with the students.  She complimented me on the response I sent her on Amazons and Medea (which was bit of BS work).  I was kind of embarrassed but nevertheless pleased with myself (I love fishing for praise any time!) so we struck up a bit of conversation about it (I can't just leave her hanging you know).  She wanted me to discuss a little for the rest of the class but the moment had passed (Whew!).  To fill you in a bit, the piece was about different powerful women traveling away from their homeland and their ability/inability to retain their sense of identity and home.  Interestingly enough, Professor Purves was bit puzzled by our constant discussion on identity (several of the students spoke up as I was explaining it).  A funny thing she pointed out with much bemusement was that while she considered a journey more for its physical elements we the students see it in a metaphorical sense, as a search for one's identity.  After pondering it a bit, she exclaims, "It's because you're in college!" Tis' true though, we college kids are currently trying to discover ourselves.  I wanted to laugh at her truly surprised expression.  I thought it was a really cute age gap moment. ~February 3, 2004 

For many years now, I have looked up to beautiful women.  My life has always been graced by some powerful and lovely female force, from day one, there was my mother.  She has always prided herself on her appearance and also in the grace and beauty that runs through her family blood.  This is probably how my vanity and value in appearance began, often clouding my reality of the world.  Ever since I was little, I've been taught that I was born with a certain advantage, in that I have this attractive quality which would bring the admiration and affections of the people around me.  I admit that I sometimes take this for granted and puffed with pride, I demand attention and respect without offering any in return.  That is the curse of being the way I am and the way my family traits run.  So I believed that nature would run its course.  Yet I realized incapacities in my character, my emotional and spiritual self that was truly lacking, and my social skills did not prepare me for reality.  Thus, the world was cruel and cold at times to my overly sensitive mind.  All these years I've been focusing on my exterior qualities without truly understanding the weakness of my mind that threatens my very spirit.  It is not until I discovered the ferocity that fumed in this little heart of mine, it is not till then did I grow to nurture my spirit and nurse my body into a blossoming.  Not until my mind has strengthened have I ever felt this beautiful in my life.  The words that course from me now are steady and powerful, however silly they may sound to others.  But slowly each day I listen, I think and I grow with each breath I take.  My mother has long prove to me that in me exists a beautiful woman because she is the first great beauty that has ever meant anything to me.  And I continue to meet a great deal of gracious and gorgeous female idols around me from my pretty big sis Joo in Aphio to my divine cousin Eva and to my kind English 4W TA Denise.  Each to me represents the embodiment of femininity.  I admired each one of them and I increasingly see their impact on me and my own growing beauty.  Thus, it is through them I can worship female greatness and loveliness and from which I can draw my strength and inspiration from.  I don't care for people who scoff at exterior beauty and makeup and fashion.  I revel in the beauty and sensuality of the female body and the ability to use art to adorn it to perfection  (the plain body is like a blank canvas).  I accept vanity as a part of myself that I love and never want to forget. ~February 4, 2004 

 Fuck those people who are so hypocritical and false about their own superficial value of beauty.  Why are you so afraid to point out that someone is unattractive?  If appearances are not suppose to matter what does it matter when someone calls a person ugly?  People need to fuck off and quit being a pussies. ~February 4, 2004 

Again, I realize my despicable tendency to overanalyze and contrive the world around me.  It's terrible when all of a sudden a small scrap of news can alter your whole reality.  All this time I was thinking on one then and unfortunately reacting to others as a result of it and it hits me that I've been so mistaken this whole time.  I guess it just takes one tiny miscalculation to escalate into a whopper of a story and a couple days of strange contemplation.  It's really only a matter of days (or weeks which can be a short amount of time if you don't pay attention) for life to take weird turns and for people to change, especially people because hard as I try I can never hold onto people.  It's pretty frustrating.  But somehow I feel lighter (though bit constricted in my breathing) because I feel like I have resolved and confirmed this silly piece of business.  Perhaps it's because now I have come to understand that life is just too hard to shape when I barely know myself.  I guess I react how I feel at the moment without even thinking although afterwards I may regret doing so.  Because I am a very anxious person so I am always second-guessing and questioning my actions.  When will I learn to respect my own decisions?  I don't know the answer yet.  I hope though by realizing this and recounting it; I can faster remedy my situation.  I don't want to keep making mistakes (although each time I usually learn from the previous experience).  The method works but I have come to realize that there are just too many mistakes out there.  Each time I must discover something new.  It's discouraging but I accept it as I grow now.  Life is a bitch but least I'm accepting her as she is and somehow it doesn't hurt as much anymore.  I guess it's because I feel further than I've ever gone before.  Maybe one day I will hardly notice all the faux pas and the awkward motions that I make and I can just enjoy myself.  Maybe then I can be almost completely confident and happy in myself.  Cheers till then! ~February 9, 2004

Curses!  Tomorrow I have my midterm and two papers due next week.  Yet I feel strangely elated.  Maybe it's the nice bit of exercise I had today (it really smoothed out the pain in my knee joints, I definitely need to move more) or maybe it was the nice encounter I had in Crossroads.  I wanted to make a move so I did and I'm glad.  I wanted to meet a boy and I just went up to him and I did (I told him his sneakers were cute but I didn't mention that I thought he wasn't too bad either--->his name is Thomas and I didn't get his number, pooh).  Simple as that.  I can't pretend that life can't get me down anymore because of course it can.  I'm weak and jaded and I really have no where to go but back here.  Hehe, it's very cynical I know but I go by whatever keeps me moving forward.  Since time is consistently going at a steady pace in that positive direction and every being around her doing the same, I suppose I should just dispose myself of any kind of inconvenience against this progress.  That means all the doubts, all the fears and all the hindsight treatment.  And I'm glad I am able to do things as I have never done before and even more because now I feel so light-hearted and unabashed.  There really is no more room for regrets these days.  All these years I've been pretty easygoing person, at least to the people around me.  Sometimes it got to the degree of plain old sloth.  But for awhile, I was really hard on myself at all the wrong times and too thoughtless at just the worst moments.  But I realize if I just stopped worrying so much and putting much pressure on myself in general that overall life just got much rosier.  Thus, I'm glad that I feel this way and I want the world to embrace me!  Haha...  Perhaps not.  But sometimes I feel quite happy just sitting here and thinking about writing in Kat Chat.  I hope to further my progress that I began half-heartedly today.  Cheers!  Oh, I hope I do well on the midterm tomorrow.  It would be crummy if I didn't but I guess it won't be the end of the world right?  Yup, seeing things in that light, not very many things seem so very terrible and urgent then, don't you think?  I thought so.  There's not much else to say.  Good Night LA! ~February 12, 2004

view my baby

Once again I'm feeling a little down.  I don't know why.  I think it's just that I've been working so hard these past few days that when I'm just sitting here on my butt I feel a little irritable and bored.  I'm just one of those people who like to keep busy otherwise I'd feel like I were wasting time.  I don't really want to spend too much time thinking. ~February 12, 2003

I'm very cheerful as of now.  I have my wonderful digital camera so I can take as many pictures as I want!  OOOooh muy bien!  Tonight was a lot of fun!  I'm glad that all of my friends decided to come along with me to see "The Lift" perform.  It definitely made the night more interesting.  I was all set for a quiet evening of good ambience and fantastic music but it turned out to be much more energetic than any ordinary entertainment.  I guess white guys in punk bands just aren't used to seeing swarms of cute little Asian girls (least not the obscure ones).  So I guess we were rather well-received.  It was really exciting meeting the members though.  I know I'm a really shy, self-conscious person so I tend to be unable to express myself well to strangers, least not on first sight.  So it was nice having all the hustle and bustle around making things so chaotic and confusing that all this was forgotten and made quaint and charming.  I feel like it's these little moments that make me love my friends and people in general.  It's just so wholesome and satisfying.  It's simple as that to be happy.  Just doing something one enjoys and when everything falls into place (while everything else goes into shambles) the end result if still wonderful and lively.  That's what life should be like every now and then.  That's what I live for.  So I'm a happy happy girl tonight.  And people do support "The Lift!"  They are so talented and so special.  Love Kat ~February 20, 2004

Such a gorgeous poem by William Wordsworth:

          I WANDERED lonely as a cloud
          That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
          When all at once I saw a crowd,
          A host, of golden daffodils;
          Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
          Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

          Continuous as the stars that shine
          And twinkle on the milky way,
          They stretched in never-ending line
          Along the margin of a bay:                                  10
          Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
          Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

          The waves beside them danced; but they
          Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
          A poet could not but be gay,
          In such a jocund company:
          I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
          What wealth the show to me had brought:

          For oft, when on my couch I lie
          In vacant or in pensive mood,                               20
          They flash upon that inward eye
          Which is the bliss of solitude;
          And then my heart with pleasure fills,
          And dances with the daffodils.

From the site: http://www.bartleby.com/145/ww260.html

"For the Romantics and for the post-modern Western world, there is no redeemer, nor can there be.  We must bear the wounds of our presumption by ourselves; that is the price of consciousness." -Jeanette Winterson, "Introduction:  Gulliver's Wound"

I have not written in katchat for quite a while.  I've been rather preoccupied with putting up the katpix section (it's pet project of mine to capture my life into cute and trivial photographs).  I just bought my new digital camera with the money I made last summer so I'm in a pretty sorry state of finances.  I think I will not be making anymore purchases until this summer when I hopefully get paid well for working slavishly for my parents.  My dad is the worst employer in the world and if I were not his daughter I do not believe I would ever go back to that hellhole.  I'm only kidding.  It's quite pleasant to work for parents.  There is not really any pressure to work hard because they cannot seriously fire you.  Where would you go?  Back onto the streets?  Definitely not slum around in the house or go out to boba houses in unseemly hours.  So yup, the sad fact is my parents need me.  They need me badly.  And I need money badly and my stingy dad will only give it to me if I trick him into thinking he's getting any kind of real effort and work out of me.  Anyway, stupid camera.  I absolutely love it though.  I take pictures any time and any where.  It is strange how different life looks like captured into a photograph.  It's like a memory trapped in a moment and your imagination runs amok trying to contrive a story to go along with it.  Because quite honestly I have a lousy memory and I tend to fabricate to make up for what I have forgotten.  Plus, I have a love of analyzing and constructing realities of my own to suit my own opinions and interpretations.  Thus, I take my pictures and I keep or delete, chop and edit, send or "recycle bin" to my heart's desire.  I do as I please really.  And my canon powershot baby understands me.  Therefore, life is quite dandy for me up to this moment.  I'm becoming quite pampered and flattered with all these photographs of myself, hehe.  I'm often lacking in subjects to take pictures of so not to actually be a narcissist but I'm enjoying taking photos of myself.  I'm planning on making some kind of art from them.  I have a series already called the red sunglasses (Edie and Grace can explain...).  Anyhow, this cool girl is happy. ~February 28, 2004 

"Girl recognize game, before game recognize YOU
You're dealin' wit a player, TRUE
Now whatchu wanna do?
We can kick it and go puff on a buuuntt
Oh you don't smoke? Grab a pint of Hen' then we can get druuunk
It's up to you, I'm the man but baby just let me know
'Cuz if you got an attitude I could treat you just like a ho
Get to rollin' wit me baby, hop in there's enough room
We can gaze at the stars that shine like the moon
Gimme a chance to show ya, and a chance to know ya
Just be true, and there's nothing I won't do, for ya
Some women like to play it foul (foul)
But them the kind I put in the place of a child" ---Chingy, "One Call Away"

Hehe, that's my kind of poetry! ~March 6, 2004ch

I'm feeling bit down now that I'm back in school.  Berkeley during spring break was so much fun.  There was so much good food to eat, so many sights to see, so many adventures to experience, my normal life seems so bland and inappropriate in comparison.  While we're still young, shouldn't we live every day to the fullest?  Yet I spend many a day or night just slouching around not doing anything that makes me happy.  It's such a waste of good space and time.  Maybe I'm just feeling the sour aftereffects of a tremendously terrific set of events and now I'm thinking I need some sort of rebound experience to make up for its passing.  I just have this aching need now to reaffirm my place in this world and to make better use of my time.  I need to do something drastic to fill up this emptiness left by the eye-opening experience in San Francisco.  I think life needs constant validation in order to remind us why we are still living.  The offset of extreme happiness for a short while is that aftertaste of loss and the anxiety and distress that we suffer as a result of feeling this loss.  And possibly because I tend to think and feel more acutely than most other people (which is not a good thing because I am overly sensitive) the passing of wonderful feelings really hits me when my mind follows them with melancholy and self-loathing and pity.  But as the old Eskimo saying goes something like this, when you are feeling fear, move on....I have come to deal with my problem by throwing myself into something new and extravagantly different in order to break out of this self-enclosed, pitiful world of emotions that can lead to depression if I let it overwhelm me.  If I grow unhappy with life just because I feel like I am not employing all my resources and justifying my role in the world then I would be falling in my own trap.  It would be sad irony to go out this way and to fritter any more time.  If I am unhappy with the world, I suppose I must change myself and shape my mind to see it in a way that I can appreciate it.  I realize I can't do anything really about my environment, or my family and friends.  So I'm going to be self-absorbed and work on myself.  I was quite upset for a long time about people and society and I still am.  But now that I've discovered the error of indulging in a sad and bleak (thus passive and immobile) outlook on life.  I cannot let the world or the people in it get me down.  I must fight on and be happy.  I think I feel better already having written down some of my dark thoughts.  That's it for now. ~April 5, 2004     
Don't worry be happy and smile and. . .