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Once, a very long time ago, I stood before a mirror and stared into my image. It smiled with my lips, it stood with my feet, and it stared with my eyes. But as I stood before myself, I began to judge myself, and I saw an audience of shadows behind me, silently awaiting my verdict. I beckoned to look away, but my case was not yet done, and no man can escape his coming judgement. As my eyes looked into my own, I felt my soul pulled deeper into the darkness hidden behind the mirror. Within, lied an abyss which was to be my final reckoning. And from the abyss, rose a being that would shatter my innocent ignorance. I realized then the pain of mortality. From that day forth, I feared the reaper, who had ascended from the abyss to act as executioner. He haunted my every moment. He teased me with illusions of a life uninhibited by time, and cynically denied the hope that was inspired by his images. He spoke to me of my death, which I could never escape. I fell into despair.  Such deep despair, that I no longer had the will to hope. I began to laugh at his illusions, wholeheartedly agreeing with the foolishness of life. I accepted my death, and welcomed it's inevitability. I felt free of ambition and need. Free to live, and free to die, at any moment. I knew my life would end soon. So I felt no need to rush my ultimate demise. Perhaps some use could come of my existence, however long it lasted. Or if not, at least I was free to do as I pleased. Free to hurt, steal, lie, or kill for my enjoyment. For I needed to experience life at this moment, I did not have time to worry about the future, which would never come. I became lofty. My family, my friends, they meant nothing to me. Their desires were not my own, and as such I had no use for them. No need to please others. What use was it? It would simply waste the little time I had left on this damned earth. Each second spent on another, was a second wasted. It would help me not. I am not a wasteful man. Five years, I lived in the shadow of death. In five years, I grew from a child who found joy in the happiness of others, to a teenager with no reason to live other than living itself. I lived each day, fearing it would be my last. So, I wasted no time on others. Until I met my reflection once again. A reflection of my old soul, the soul of the child who had once looked into a mirror and left scarred and distorted. I realized that I was not looking into a mirror, but into a person. And inside me, the old soul struggled to break loose of death. This soul wanted to hope again, to live for someone else as he once did. It was foolish, and I pushed my foolish self back into it's captivity. But, there was something strong in this human. A soul even more powerful than my own. And I asked death, "How can this soul be stronger than I? She is a fool, she believes there is meaning in life. I know the truth! So why does it hurt when she smiles? Why does my soul ache when she laughs?" Death did not answer me. I sought out the answer for myself, and without realizing it, my chains were loosening. With every day I spent in company of this joyful soul, my foolish soul grew stronger, and I began to hope again. I felt as if I had betrayed myself, just as death had betrayed me. Now I am made whole again. I have family to care for, a lover to love, and a dream to fulfill. I still fear the reaper. For he knows me, and he knows where to find me, and now I wish to live.

Wow, it's been awhile hasn't it? Lots of stuff has happened since I last posted. I'm not sure if I'm actually gonna get to it all or not, but let's begin. Barack Obama and The Audacity of Hope, that's just a kickass title. I'm reading the book, or at leats I own the book and will be reading it soon I guess. Meh, gotta keep up with current events, especially if he's gonna be the next president or whatnot. Hope he doesn't get assassinated. I went to the Holocaust Museum with my jewish history teacher Ms. Rosenberg. I love that lady, she's so awesome. She's one of my role models I suppose, or at least a damn good influence. I still like Psychiatry, but lately I've been really thinking about studying Archeology, and being a History Teacher. I think it'd be pretty cool. I could be like Indiana Jones! -whipcrack- I'm trying to get a job as a tutor at my mom's school on Saturdays, and then after that, a job as an assistant pharmacist at my uncle's pharmacy. I use the term assistant loosely to mean I'll probably vacuum, organize medicine on the shelves and play on the computer. I need volunteer hours, so I'm working in Middle Eastern Club too. We're setting up a fashion show, and since I'm one of the only males working on it. I get to be model and dancer. I wanted to do bellydancing, but I think I'm gonna end up doing hip-hop dancing and desi. Maybe if Richard Lam joins with his Shaolin moves, I can get in on that too. It's almost Valentine's day, and I finally was able to get my girlfriend a gift that I've been trying to get her for years. Yesterday also happened to be the anniversary of the day we shared our first kiss. I'm making this a big point so I never forget this date. February 10. I'm really happy. Extremely happy. I've just got so much going for me right now that I can't even make myself depressed or angry. I used to have such deep pain and sorrow inside of me that I felt compressed. Like a bottled explosion. But now I feel so free and light. I'm wearing more than just black and red now. Greens, Browns, Yellows. I'm becoming Brother Earth. I have the desire to write again! And not just angst and sorrow, I mean fun and happy! I'm meeting new people, making people happy, I'm helping my mom out more, I'm working and it's not something that bothers me. I've got the most beautiful and loving girlfriend in the world, and my friend Horace is forever telling me how lucky I am to have her. I recently had a very nice recruitment interview with West Point University, and though I know there's no way in a frozen hell that I'm getting in there, not that I want to, it went very well and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I will admit that I was on the brink of falling back into depression again, twice in the last month actually. One was when I was reintroduced to the feeling of abandonment and exilement, not through anyone's active actions, just from being ignored in a room full of people that I considered friends. Oh well, I got over it eventually, and I've simply detached myself from being that dependant on people again. The other was after a rather inconsiderate action and statement from my girlfriend. I felt a little heartbroken for a while, but I couldn't be too angry because I know that I've done and said inconsiderate things before. Nobody's perfect, and when you really accept that, you'll find it easier to forgive things that were already easily forgiven. My mother had knee surgery, so she's been on sick leave from work for two weeks. I bet she loves all that paid rest. Her new boyfriend has some really cool kids named Kain and Johnathan. I hung out with yesterday and we ate spaghetti and cookies together. They're suprisingly fun and mature for an 11 and 8 year old, but man, they are so small! I accidentally hit on one of my friends over YIM, and it was her father who answered. This guy just so happens to be notorious for smashing young fertile male teenagers heads into walls and using their intestines as pipe insulators, so I'm a bit paranoid about going to school tomorrow. He even asked for a picture of me, supposedly so he can put a hit out on me with some highly paid ninjas and assassins. At least, they better be highly paid. I refused to be killed by any bargain killers. I plan on taking my girlfriend out for a nice romantic dinner next saturday since I didn't get to see her this weekend, and I want to do something to make this Valentine's really special for her. Any suggestions on restaurants? I like the quote that is the title of this entry. "You can sleep when you're dead." It doesn't literally mean stay awake for the rest of your life. It means, make the most of all the time available to you. Humans on average spend a third of their life asleep. You're really only living two thirds of your life. And half of the remaining life is usually spent on school or work. 8 hours to sleep, 8 hours to work, 8 hours to bullshit. That's a 24 hour day. So if you only have 8 hours out of every day to do what you really want to do with your life, why the hell would you waste in doing stupid shit? Make every moment count. You've got One-Third of your life to really make something out of it. So don't hesitate, don't second guess, don't overthink. Make your choices, blaze your path, write your story. If you wait too long, your choice may be gone, your path may be faded, and your story may be outdated. Don't spend too long daydreaming, dreams are for sleeping. Sleep when you're dead.