Doesn't this look nice. A beautiful dawn in Vietnam. I "borrowed" this from someone's webpage.

Well, I guess this would be part three of my continuing adventures through life. Hmmm... what really made me begin writing this was a letter I received today. In this letter, that person wrote to me how he had wandered through my webpage and read the previous two pages. Then, he sat down and wrote for an hour or two about what he had gone through not too many years ago. It was a very important letter, or, at least it was to me. While I read it, I realized how much of life I was letting go. At first I was depressed, and then I thought I was over it. Then, I was just apathetic. Now, I feel less so. I'm happy that he wrote me that letter.

In that letter, he explained to me how he had felt the same way through his junior and senior year at high school, and well into his college years, too. He explained how he'd begun smoking, and would buy packs, even when he couldn't afford to eat. How the only thing that he found solace in began to break up. How, after he hit rock bottom, someone picked him up, dusted him off, and gave him the start he needed. I was touched.

I guess I've always known that I'd never been near rock bottom. I'm just lucky that way. But at the same time, I'd never really had anyone that I could really relate to go that far. So I'd never really been able to judge how far down the Well of Depression went. The letter that I received became a light for me. It showed me how far I could sink, and how far I had to go. I knew then that I couldn't sink that far. Something about those depths scared me. Fortunately, I had already started turning around. Now it won't take as much effort to try to turn completely around. I'm not saying it won't be hard; habits are hard to break. But at least I've got a start.

The person who wrote me spoke about sitting on a balcony late at night, alone. It made me think about when my brother and I went camping, and we were sitting by the stream, just staring out across it. Neither of us spoke for fifteen, twenty minutes. We both just stared, each of us lost in our own world. I can't speak for my brother, but at that moment, I felt extremely... tranquil. At peace. And I think I need to reach that state again. I need to find some quiet balcony somewhere and just stare at the stars for an hour. I need to wander out into the Mission Gardens at three in the morning and practice my katas. Maybe I'll be able to find some of that energy that I had before. Maybe this is something I need to place myself back into karate, into school, into snowboarding, into... well... life. I think I'm going to start doing that. I wish I had my katana with me. I think it would make me feel so much better run through sword forms in the Mission Gardens at night. Too bad I don't know any sword forms. Or that the Jesuits would probably turn me in for carrying a large, sharpened piece of steel through campus...

To the person that wrote to me. Thank you so much. I don't know how to explain it, but I actually feel... happier, I guess. I don't know. But I do feel like I have more energy and I want to get back to my martial arts practice. And snowboarding. And roller hockey. And a bunch of other things. Arigato Gozaimasu. Sayonara.