August 28, 2004


I was walking through Siqi's new house, an unfilled shell of a house. Beautiful view of Alameda, Oakland, San Francisco skyline, and even further north than that. We talked about how she could re-divide walls, tear them down and extend rooms, add another entrance, re-paint a room, arrange the furniture. This house has great possibility. Two hours later on the drive home, I felt this surge of unspoken words. But, of course, I didn't speak them. Why wait until the last minute to say those things?

My parents said, if you're scared, don't do it. I said, I have to do it anyways, even if I'm scared, even if I don't know if it's the right thing to do. I can't spend the rest of my life being afraid of how arbitrary life is. I ask(ed) every minute: Why bother living if it hurts so much? What is worth working so hard for? I have to look for the reasons, but they'll be my reasons. I'll try harder this time.

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