The following are old writing i've done...

Preface

I welcome you to my cloud. This is my kingdom, perhaps a gateway to my mind. Here, I am both the Emperor and the Commoner. You shall meet the real me, or the me that I want you to see... This is the medium I chose to express myself. I am Dave, and this is me. This is my song, the symphony of my soul, this is my lachrymose requiem. This is where I was born, where I live, and where I'll Die. And don't get me wrong, this isn't Heaven, nor is it Hell, but maybe something of a Purgatory.

Volume #1 Memories of the Past
(8/16/99-8/17/99)

I realize more and more each day, that one's childhood - for most I add - are the best part one his/her life. I remember all the adults saying so when I was younger. Of course, back then, I paid no heed to their wisdom, and I went back to playing with my toy cars and trucks... Chasing and capturing dragonflies out in the corn fields, racing my friends on my bicycle, and the swings and the slides in the sun. I recall, once after school, stopping by the local arcade, where my mother found me and dragged me back home. I think I cried. Also, the time I was hit by a car and I was more worried about my money that had escaped my hand...as well my my left sneaker that had fallen off..... The time the apartment guard discovered that my friend and I were setting yarns on fire in the basement... I always wondered why I got in so much trouble for that. The Age of Innocence, many like to call it, and I must agree. Those were the times where only worries that invaded a child's mind were the next battle with non-existent monsters and when the next meal was... Time meant nothing, each sunrise lead to another day of adventure in this great and wondrous world. Death, Life, God, and Love, each held no meaning, therefore, I wasn't affected by any of it. Ignorance is bliss, how true it is. It is truly a shame though, because of that same reason that the child does not realize Death, Life, God, and Love, that child does not know or appreciate what he/she is spared from. But, such is the way of life.

Volume #2 "When Harry Met Sally Principle"
(8/17/99-8/19/99)

"When Harry Met Sally" is an movie featuring Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal. The plot of the movie deals with the constant relationship between a man and a woman. At one point in the movie Billy Crystal states, "a man and woman cannot be friends, because the sex thing always gets in the way". I never took much time to think about that while I was watching the movie. However, I found that as time passed, it holds much truth and meaning. My Principle differs a bit, especially in the wording, I would state my principle thus, "a man and woman can never achieve the same level friendship that a man and a man achieve". Of course, this statement is nothing without the supporting ideas and reasons. I believe that in a friendship between man and a woman, one or both sides would show interest in the other. This "interest" does not have to go as far as "liking the other", but something insignificant as just wondering what it would be like. Some may want to deny it, some may want to hide it, but this is the truth. However, it just occurred to me, how about a friendship of a man and a woman who has a significant age difference? After a minute of thought, I decided that with enough age difference man and a woman can form a strong friendship. However, I must also point out, the age difference itself would also be a factor in the friendship, and still will not compare to the friendship that can be formed by man to man or woman to woman with similar age. In the Asian tradition, I also find that there can be a close relationship between man and woman, almost of brotherly or sisterly love; I believe this kind of friendship couldn't be as strong as the bond that the true brothers and sisters can form. Some may want to argue with me, and that is fine, for I'm not 100% sure on any of my ideas, except for the fact that at the time I write this, this is what I believe. Should my beliefs be changed later, then so be it. I stand to be corrected, if I should be wrong. After writing this entry, and taking a deeper look at my so-called-principle, it seems my confidence in this idea has faded a bit. =)

Volume #3 Religion: Part I
(8/19/99-8/23/99)

My paternal side of my family trace their religion to Buddhism. However, on my maternal side, they were mainly Christian. I grew up mostly as a Christian. However, it occurs to me that I was never Baptized..or was I? I'm not quite sure, and right now, I do not need to know. When I was a child, I remember vaguely of the Buddhist rituals (I'm not sure what to quite call it) but it did involve praying to our deceased ancestors. I remember the smell of incense and the food prepared so delicately on the table. Then, I remember the churches, they were so big, so grand, and so many people. The pastor or Minster (which ever it was, I still do not know the difference, nor do I care) chanting and babbling and singing. It seems that, at least to some others, and a small part of me that believes, God has intervened in to my family's life and blessed us. First of all, God has blessed my family with my brother, Daniel. Yes, he is perfect, he is the epitome of innocence. Sinless he is, he shall never feel the fires of hell. But I have also wondered and fought with the idea if he shall inherit the kingdom of God. Does he believe in God? Is he a Christian that will rise up to the heaven after his life on this Earth? I have asked many, and I have received mixed answers. But I see now how futile my attempt was in seeking that answer. Our world is plagued with thousands of different religions, and each and every one claims that theirs is the right way, the righteous way. I must say, there were many times that I have wondered which was the right one. And now, maybe I have matured a bit, or maybe I am blinded by Satan, but I really do not care for such novelties - these religion. Ah, yes, I realize I have side tracked a bit from what I was saying. God has intervened it seems. When I was still living in Korea, I believe I was 7 years old. My mother, she asked me to get something for her at the nearby store; of course being the good son I was, I obediently complied and set forth to complete my mission. I was not aware at that time that my mission would never be completed. The store, it seems, did not have what my mother was looking for. I can not seem to recall what exactly my mother wanted, but that isn't important. The important part was that the store did not have it, and I was not about to give up so easily. Then behold, I saw the store across the street.. I clutched the money that I was given tightly and marched out the street. I looked to the right, a parked van blocking my view, I looked to the left, another parked car in my way. So the coast was clear, I continued across the street. Then, I heard a screeching sound of rubber burning on the road, and I was flying. It felt as if I was floating in mid-air for a long time. Then as Newton's Law defines it, I fell back down to the ground. A dull thud echoed through my ear. The impact has knocked the wind out of me. The money that I held so tightly in my hand..the coins..scattered to the four directions. Then all I could hear was the tinkling sound of the coins...all rolling away from me. For some reason, all I could think about was how the money got away from me, and how one of my sneakers came off. The people in the car rushed me to the hospital, asking me if I was okay. The only words that I managed to stammer out was, "My money, My shoe" ( of course that would be in Korean ). I remember the hospital, so white, so clean. I do not remember if I cried...I don't believe I did, that is until my mother came crashing in through the door crying out my name. Then she started crying, and her pained look caused me to cry as well. But I wasn't hurt, not a single scratch. I believe I just left the hospital with my mom that day. After a few days after that, my mom told me that someone at our church had this dream where a boy was hit by a car. She said it felt so real that she prayed for that boy. Could that boy have been me? Maybe. Could that woman have just lied? Maybe. Could have God intervened after hearing the prayers of that woman? Maybe.
Returning to the topic of my brother. My mother often tells me, it was God's way to have my brother in the family, so that we would become better Christians. More and more each day, the more and more that sounds like, if you would excuse my language, bull shit. And yes, I know, I know, it isn't meant for us mere mortals to understand how God works. He works in mysterious ways. I recall contemplating about this subject and I came upon the idea, God is a necessary evil. I got this from the statement, Government (I think that was the term) is a necessary evil. Humans cannot live without order, however, order is what they despise, they want freedom and free will. The irony is that without a strong belief in morals and strong leaders, humans cannot survive. Without religion, the world would be chaos. Without the government, which ever it may be, communism, democracy, or dictatorship, they are all the same at the end. Where I stand at this point, you might ask, and I must give a vague answer, for I am not quite sure. I guess at one point in my life I have considered that I could be a Deist, where I accept that God or a higher being that created mankind exists, but God does not interfere with our lives. He created the world then he leaves, or watches objectively. I'll continue on this topic later.

Volume #4 Religion: Part II
(8/23/99)

Ah, I come back to this topic, recalling that there wasn't one idea that I did not mention. God is omniscient, all knowing of the past, present, and future, many Christians or religious worshippers would agree. So that does mean that we are Predestined as Calvin had believed. God knows that even before we are born, if we are set for hell or heaven. And I can't help but wonder, is this some sort of game that he is playing? I can not find any logic in that anyway, it is like watching a movie that you have already seen thousands of times. What does God get out of this. Why does he let the poor and ill, and the innocent suffer. But all my questions are futile, for it isn't our job, it isn't our purpose, to understand of the will of God.

Volume #5 Pessimism
(8/23/99)

I write, not quite knowing where it shall lead. I shall start with pessimism. I have always considered myself a pessimist as opposed to an optimist. Preferably, I would like to be a little bit of both. However, I have come to accept that I am a pessimist. Maybe a pessimist is someone who is so afraid of rejection or failure that they do not expect success or approval. This way, when something goes wrong, they wouldn't be disappointed, since they had already expected things to turn out bad. Many times, I have thought about the half-empty or half-full analogy. I'm not sure which cup I see; I would believe that it would depend on my mood and state. However, in the typical optimist that I imagine, is a phony. They always look at the brighter side of things. I find that even so, the typical optimist has great inner turmoil. Outside, they seem very happy and worries, but that is the complete opposite of what is going on inside them. It seems that the optimist forces him/herself to see and actually even believe in the good things, even if they do not truly exist. Some psychological studies suggested that the person's actual attitude on matters does affect the outcome. I believe that this is only true to a certain extent.
I just find it hard to expect something good to happen all the time when the world itself is full of hate and madness. The more hope that one builds up to the sky, the harder the fall will be if that building of hope starts to crumble. For pessimists, they do not build hope up that way. They are very cautious to do so, nevertheless, everyone builds their own stairway of hope. A pessimist expects that building of hope to fall at anytime. So most refuse even to venture upon it. For me, despite that I call myself a pessimist, I do have my own stairway. However, when I am on it, I am afraid. I am afraid of the fall back down to the hard and cold ground of despair. Pessimism, optimism, I see now are no different, we are all cowards, whether we show it or not. Pessimist make no attempt to hide it under a guise like a optimist. We are all cowards.

Volume #6 A Loner and A Non-Conformist
(8/23/99)

Some might agree with me, there is some romantic sense about a loner. A man who is completely dependent on himself, and no one else. Often, I have considered myself one, and to certain degree, I still do. But I have come to realize that everyone is a loner. The typical loner, has not many or no friends, does not like to engage in petty conversations, lives alone, and lives by the code of social Darwinism. Clad in black, on a motorcycle, he rides wherever the road takes him. I find it hard to believe someone such as that exists. A loner is someone who is completely unique, someone who realizes that no one in the world is just like him, that no one in this world truly understands him. I suppose the "loner" could be closely associated with the "non-conformist". One thing I do not understand about these "non-conformist" is what is their reasoning behind their beliefs. They refuse to do what the masses do; they want to be different, they want to be unique. If the society starts to change, they change accordingly so that they will still be different. They are a curious bunch, these "non-conformists". I feel tempted to gather the bunch and yell at them, "what the hell is your problem?" I suppose it is because I don't understand them, or maybe it is because they don't' understand themselves or the society. There were also times when I thought that I wanted to be a non-conformist. Then I realized, what is the point. I like to see it this way. The masses, the society is a big stream that flows in one course. And those few non-conformists are the ones that give it all they got to swim the other way. And for what purpose??? Do they hope to gain some attention from the society? If so then what? What will they do if the masses start swimming with them? Will they turn around? Most likely yes. Is this some sort of game they play? It is all very amusing to me. Not that I have anything against non-conformists. As matter of fact one of my good friend considers himself one, I believe that is. But maybe it is a superiority complex that they possess. They look down on the people who cannot resist or is content with following the masses. Isn't that the normal human thing to do? Back in the day, the time of beatniks such as Ginsberg and Kerouac, they protested war, they protested the government, they protested the society they lived in. So I suppose they wanted to live in anarchy? Hell, if they were living in a state of anarchy, it wouldn't have been much time till someone came up and killed them.
Back on the topic of a loner. A loner seeks no close companionship with any other. What is their goal in life? I suppose it would be to live happily for themselves. But how would that be possible? Would they rather live in a world that was empty but them? I would like to see that, what would a loner do in a world by himself...maybe sit there and cry? I believe that what I might do. I feel I have betrayed myself many times in the course of these entries. I come out with ideas that I stated that I believed in, then I start fighting the ideas. It leaves me a bit confused, yet a bit enlightened.

Volume #7 On the Topic of Love
(8/23/99)

Here is a curious phenomenon known as love. Mainly, love is seen as a special bond that can be formed with a man and a woman. Of course there are many other definitions of love can imply. But in this case, I shall focus on the typical love of a man and a woman. I'm not very experienced in this topic of "love" for I would be lying to you and myself if I said I was at the age of 19. At one point, I came up with the idea that "love" is the total acceptance of one another, how they are physically and spiritually. I do not thing I can believe in the love that some romanticize about. This magical power, or feeling that descends upon you-and you don't know until you are in love, I find that as easy as to swallow as having a cupid shoot me in the ass with a heart shaped arrow. Love, to me at least is just the acceptance of another, accepting that you could live with that person till the end of your life. But, hey, I could be wrong, but you would be the first to know if I end up at the proctologist with a funny looking arrow in my ass. .

Volume #8 The Cave of Despair
(8/24/99)

The cave of despair, is a cold, dark, and desolate place. So void of light and warmth, I cannot even start a small fire. Each time, I try, the fire dies immediately, leaving me hopeless and alone. All too well, I know where the exit lies, but I cannot summon up enough strength or courage to venture to it. A part of me, wants to remain in this empty cave and rot away. Another part of me cries out for help, some mercy, urging myself to go forward... Yet I cannot, perhaps I enjoy the company of myself and I. But who am I kidding, this is a miserable place and I too am miserable. I take a look around me, and the mocking faces laugh at me, and my memories come to life, twisted and evil. I guess I was a fool to believe that another could fill my emptiness, or a fool to expect that one to stay. Now I know what it feels to have your heart torn in to pieces and thrown away in to the winds... It is cruel, it is inhumane, it is life. My desire to become a loner, is only a guise, only a lie, to mask my longing for another soul. A kindred spirit much like my own. Or no..someone who would just accept me as I would to them. Ah, how the world taunts me so! The exit to this cave is far, but I know it is there. And eventually, I know that I shall go out. But this cave of despair, no one should have to the horror of venturing in here. In this cave, I lie, gazing upon my memories of the past... Wanting, wanting, wanting so much for another chance... But why won't this fire start! Why am I here? There is always the anger, then the lament. A monstrous pair they are... But I realize now, I realize all too well what I must do...but it is hard to escape from the memories. Ah...I don't know how I knew it, but as each of the flowers withered away before my eyes each day, so did you love for me. Maybe I should have made some attempts to rejuvenate those flowers...yet I didn't, something in me told me that it would do no good. Ah, cruel world!! What fool I was, what fool I was. This cave of despair, this hell-hole I am in, I have ran in to. I blame no one but myself. I never wish to venture back in to this cave, nor want to risk venturing in to this cave. I know what must be done. This cave, this cave of despair, I shall never return to it.

Volume #9 Empty Thoughts In My Head
(8/25/99)

Time makes us eventually forget everything that is good and bad. It eats away at our memories until one day, we ourselves become devoured by it. Then we turn into the memories of others, only to be eaten away again. However, it is different with writing. Even when we pass on, our writings, our thoughts, our creativity will live on as long as humanity lives on. I find this very comforting. I myself, have long ago became content with the fact that we must all pass on eventually. I do not see it as a curse, I just see it as a way of life..the constant cycle that never seems to end. So many people in the world, each so unique from the other, it's hard to fathom how there could be billions of people who are each different in some way. Each with own thoughts, ideas, so much to contribute to this world we live in. Each one of us part of this great society on this place we call Earth. Each with their own purpose. It is truly amazing to me. The only thing left to wonder for me is, where do I fit in? What purpose do I have in life...what does God or fate have planned for me?
Again, I find myself in front of this screen, typing mindlessly. My heart is torn. I wish for a direction, a clear set path...but yet I still want the free-will. I always ask for the impossible. I guess that is my complaint, my predicament.

Volume #10 Inner Fury
(9/16/99)

I am back to my home, my refuge, my sanctum. I am here to discuss my incomprehensible-self. I'll admit that I have yet to understand myself. I am full of strife, there is a civil war inside of me, inner turmoil, a fire that burns fiercely. That fire, wakes me each morning, gives me strength to walk and run. But I run aimlessly, mindlessly, with no direction. And my mind, my soul, searches for that goal, for that purpose in this life. But to no avail.. Each moment that I breathe, each step I take, I fight a war internally, WHY must I breathe, WHY must I walk, WHY am I here! And there is no stop to it. Only more questions and complaints. Some might say, GOD is what give you direction, GOD is the answer I seek. But unlike some others, I cannot accept such vague, intangible answer such as GOD. I refuse to lower myself and depend on something that isn't real to me. I am shouting, no shrieking, do you hear my cries? I feel as though I am being ripped inside out. The fire inside of me wants to grow, and if it cannot, it will destroy me. I look, I stare, I glare, upon the image of me that I painted, that I painted with my blood, my sweat! I am not pleased! This is not how it is supposed to be!!! IT IS SIMPLY WRONG. I rip, I tear, I crush this mural and spit on it with vehemence. Give me a new, bigger, better canvas to paint on! Who can I complain to? I break, I BITE the paintbrush in to pieces. I stab at thee, at myself who refuses to paint anymore, because he will not accept himself.

Volume #11 Torpor
(9/28/99)

There is this "state" that I often sink into, this state, I like to refer to at as torpor. It is a state in which, where the individual loses all drive, all hopes and ambitions. All he/she does is simply go along with the path of the life he/she leads. Of course, this individual does not like this path he/she is on, however, he/she makes no effort to change this path....this is the state of torpor. Perhaps this is a severe case of laziness, but I still would classify this state as unique. I wake up each day, knowing that with the waking moment, without a thought of change or goal. I am in this state now, I could not find anything worthwhile to do, and somehow I forced myself to write. And here I am, in front of this screen, hacking away at this keyboard, my mind, so clouded and thoughtless. I stare at the filled ash tray, and the ashes that have fallen by its side. Next to the empty can of Budweiser, which, honestly, I did not want to drink. Behind it lies some envelope and on it my sunglasses. A comb, a watch, some keys, a cd case, they are all strewned across me. And what do I do, but stare. Each image registers into my brain cells, stimulating each visual neuron. Something so simple is so complicating, why is that? What do I care. All I know and care is the fact that the ash tray is there, next to the empty cans. All I know and see, is that they exist. I do not know, or care about what will be come of them, or how they came about, they are simply there now- and that's all it matters. What am I driving at? Do I really need to prove something, tell something, explain something? That is exactly what this is about...the torpor...the torpor.

Volume #12 My Return to My Cloud
(5/22/00)

Indeed, it has been awhile. But I have returned. I cannot deny who I am. what I am. As time progresses, I have time to reflect on my actions. To know that we need to let go of some things. But as you put them to rest, you need to start another. It is nice to be back on my cloud. My home, my inner most sanctuary.

"I have returned" -- Gen. Macarthur

Volume #13 On Religion: Part III
(7/23/00)

Faith has always been a trait of mankind. The prime example of faith today, as it has been since the ancient times, is the belief in a supreme being, commonly referred to as God.
Approaching this idea in the unbiased, logical fashion, I have concluded through my leanings and experience that the belief in God – religion, is for the weak – those who cannot accept that after life, there is unconditional death. Many are terrified by the thought of his or herself ceasing to exist. Humans reproduce; hence they pass their legacy to their children, in that way, the parents live on in their children. To many, however, this is not enough. There must be something beyond life, beyond death. This is where religion and God comes in.
The existence of God, the impossible, yet unquestionable fact of all religions; the bible, a crucial cornerstone of most religions. Written by the apostles, a fellow man. Whey are people so sure that these are the words of God? It is simple, it is the natural instinct of mankind to follow. Many men hesitate to take control of their life and set their own beliefs. A man who has, and lives by his rules and adheres to it.. that man, is God.
Now, comes the time, where i refute my very own words. I realize that nothing is concrete, there isn't a black and white, but the over abundance of the gray.
I am in no way ridiculing God, or his followers. I also accept the fact that, someday, I may also follow Him. All that I am sure of right now, is that I still need to mature deeper into a true man. In the sense that, I need to experience life... to declare ideas, and to believe in them, but to also reject them when proven wrong. A man who refuses to admit that he is wrong, is someone who refuses to make progress. I believe that at this point on my life, I am finally walking forward with my very own legs. I am no longer being carried by my parents, I am not standing still, nor am I trying to walk back, trying to reclaim what might have been lost. I believe in progress, I believe in myself.

Volume #14 Ramblings of a Man
(8/1/00)

Inspired by a girl I met recently, I have decided to write in my cloud more frequently. But the real question is, what to write about....
It seems that finally, time of maturity has come for me. Of course, I am not declaring myself mature, but rather, I realize that gradually, I am becoming a man. or... perhaps not, perhaps I am being foolish. I do not know for sure. I am in my troubled state once more... Many thoughts roaming about my head. What I want, and what I do not have, what I can never have.

I wish to wake up every morning with a renewed spirit for living, yet, I'm sure for many people, that is not how it is. I have always felt that I needed to achieve something great. I am not satisfied with being one of the many heads in a crowd. Ah, I do not know, and I feel embarrassed to write further. What I must conquer is my insecurities ...

Definition of a man: a man is someone who makes and stands by his beliefs. Furthermore, if his beliefs are proven wrong, a man should admit to it.

Definition of hope: a motivation force that the people live off of. Hope is evil, for sometimes, hope is the only thing worth living for.

Volume #15 Just Another Day
(11/9/00)

Today,
Is just another day.
Another
Lonely, typical,
Hackneyed day
Of my existence.

Today,
I walked the bustling
Streets of center city.
Business men donned in clean-cut suits,
Unshaven derelicts panhandling in squalor,
Share the streets.
So many faces,
So many lives,
Each with happiness and sadness,
Successes and failures.
They walk the streets.

Today,
Rain drizzled,
The sun, well-hidden behind the darkish clouds,
Blanketing the day with gloom.
A weather that mirrored my emotions today.

Today,
Is just like the spent boxes of cigarettes that lay scattered in front of me,
Another day of my like spent; one less day I shall live.

Today,
Was just another day.

Volume #16 The Cloud Manifesto
(11/13/00)

My cloud. The medium I chose to express myself, unfettered, to the world; it is my sanctum. The cloud has allowed me to look back on myself. To contest my ideas... to support them or to reject them. I am open to each equally. For a man who refuses to acknowledge his errors, is a man who refuses to make progress. Why do I openly blazon my writings to the world? For a few reasons. The main reason being, to draw forth opinions of others, so that I may learn more. Also, perhaps my words will ignite a spark in a reader's soul -- and be able to feel the fires that burn within me.

to be continued...

Volume #17
(08/04/2001 )

What a new, invigorating feel... To have a goal, and to actively work towards it... the anticipation of each step and result... What is this goal? It is a crush. How juvenile! Yet, it is wonderful.