A wise girl knows her limits.
A great girl knows she has none.

Our world is getting smaller and smaller, and today we can accomplish things that just a hundred years ago people would have thought to have been nearly impossible.

I don't want to be famous, or rich, or put down in history that will live on forever in books. In fact, I don't want many things at all. I just want to do the things I love doing and be with the people I love being with for the rest of my life. But while I'm here, I also want to make a difference in the world. Whether that difference will affect just one person or millions of people, I want to leave a mark that is worthwhile, something that I can look back on with a proud smile.



I want to make the world...
A little brighter,
A little happier,
A little more peaceful,
A little more colorful,
A little less complicated,
A little less twisted,
A little more open minded,
A little more creative,
And a little more magical.

I will put my heart and soul in my work, I will show the world the wonderland that every child eventually leaves behind. Everyone has to adapt to survive in this cruel world, and as we're shaped by the values and expectations of our society, we become blind to happiness, the kind of happiness that is in its purest and simplest form. Children can be happy just for the sake of being happy, and that's why their laughter is the most beautiful. I hope I can remind people of this innocent joy, convince them to slow down to take a good look around and enjoy life instead of rushing through it to get to wealth and success. We only have one life to live, and we must make the best out of it by making it our own adventure instead of following the crowd on the road that others have paved.

I'm the kind of person who will definitely finish what she promises to do, even if it means staying up all night. I'm the kind of student who can spend hours writing, editing, and re-editing a single paragraph to make it perfect. I'm the kind of girl who can put on a smile and actively engage in daily activities everyday, even if life has been like hell for the past few weeks. I try to give my 150% all the time, trying to please so many people at once, yet I fail to look after myself. My strength is slipping, along with my health, and I can no longer keep up what I started from the first semester.

It's always been like this; I start out strong and enthusiastic, never doing anything half-assed because I know that if I do, I'll look upon it with regret afterwards, but eventually my energy drains from pushing it so. The truth is; I'm lost.

I'm really lost.

There are voices coming from every which direction, each telling me a different thing that I must do, and they are covering up my own frail little voice that's too scared to speak up among all these other big, authoritative Voices.

I'm a person who can't juggle; I can only hold one thing at a time. For a long, long time, as long as I can remember, this has been academics. Grades. Report cards. This is the only thing I focus on, this is the only thing I can focus on. But that voice deep inside is starting to get mad at me after being ignored for so many years, only able to spread its tiny, delicate wings sparingly. "I'm born with wings," it says, "but if you keep me confined in this little cage all the time, they will never grow, and when you are finally ready to use me, I will no longer remember how to fly."

I don't want to sound like a geek, but my most important priority at the moment is to get good grades. I can do what I like to do anytime I want, but high school I can only experience once. Ten years later, I'd rather be able to say "I did well in high school, although I didn't have much fun outside school" instead of "I had tons of fun in high school, but my grades were average." Am I being too shallow? I don't know... I feel really insecure about my future, and my grades are the only thing that I am in control of that can reassure me of my future.

Why am I so insecure? Well for one, it's a competitive world out there, and I'm not especially talented or skilled in anything significant enough to stand out among a sea of brilliant people. The only thing I pride in is my creativity and imagination; I can daydream for hours and hours, and not randomly, but with actual thoughts, usually forming creative ideas or storylines. I like to think that the voice inside of me is a fairy, providing me with such joyful ideas that seem almost magical. The problem? What use are ideas when you can't fully express them? I can't draw, music isn't really my thing, and I can write... a little. Yes, writing is probably the only means by which I can express my creativity, but I'm nowhere near a level which can properly word all the things going on in my head.

Whenever I have any free time, usually during long breaks or vacations, I tend to look at a lot of things, read lot of books, and go to a lot of places. I get inspired, start to actually write something I really enjoy, so much that I throw homework aside until the last minute, and before my creativity has finished its current project, school starts again, forcing my fairy's wings back into their cage. The story that started but never finished... is left there, neither living nor dead.

I envy people who have known the one or two things they're good at for a long time. Or even those people that aren't thoroughly educated in one thing, but they have enough knowledge of every subject to a certain degree. I can't remember a single fact in any of my history classes since grade 1 through grade 10, I can't recall or apply any mathematical formula or technique to math problems that may have been taught just months before, I don't really remember those literary terms we memorized again and again in English class, I don't remember anything. The past years are only vague shadows. Learn, test, immediate knowledge wipe out.

I didn't shut my eyes for a second last night. I've been reading a lot of dark novels lately, and I came up with some stories of my own-- so disturbing, frightening and twisted that as soon as I closed my eyes, more ideas and images sprung, impeding a peaceful rest. I haven't touched my homework one bit, except for the French project. Subconsciously, and consciously as well-- I desperately wanted to catch up, make up for the lost time in which I'd imprisoned my passion, and improve myself in what I think could eventually blossom into something meaningful. Am I doing the right thing? I'm so tired. I can't think. I can't focus. I'm so sore, something beneath my chest, something near my ribcage... it feels weird; something's withering and rotting inside me. My kidneys are probably suffering as well, as I force them to stay up the whole night with me. I can't keep up with myself.

All I want to do is let tears flow tonight, but I want to be strong again tomorrow.

I feel like a little part of the original burden I'd been trying to deal with has finally left me through the words I've written here. If you've had the patience to bear with me thus far, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Timothy Treadwell was an environmentalist, a documentary film maker, and the star of Werner Herzog's universally praised Grizzly Man. After watching the film, I was left with two very different impressions of Treadwell. With his jumpy, bubbly, slightly narcissistic demeanor and a strangely child-like and dramatic pattern of speech, I was sure this guy was either on drugs, or simply a lunatic on a rather interesting mission.

What was his mission, anyway? To protect the bears. Kind of odd, if you think about it. The grizzlies are probably as safe as they'll ever be in the Katmai National Park and Preserve. By spending so much time with the bears at such a close distance, Treadwell was putting not only himself in danger, but also other visitors and the bears themselves. The rangers in the park do their best to keep the bears away from any human influence, and so when people approach the bears, they are usually calm and uninterested. Treadwell's constant "interactions" with the bears could very well have upset that conditioned immunity to the human presence. In a place where they're trying to preserve species in their natural habitats, it's probably unwise to have a human (who I'm convinced has some issues up in the noggin) roaming around.

I found it extremely amusing how Treadwell liked to befriend every animal, but I'm not sure if that's a good thing. He had trapped himself in a delusion that the bears had almost accepted him as a companion, a protector, when in fact his affections were unrequited. I believe that this idea played a crucial role in his death. He thought the bears recognized him and needed him, and he let himself be too defenseless. It's true that the season was bad for fishing when Treadwell was eaten, but I wouldn't be surprised if the cause was something else (like the bears had lost interest in this weird little blond creature that stalked them all the time with a freaky voice and an oddly shaped rock that sometimes had three legs).

Few people would willingly give up everything and risk their lives out in the wild among creatures that could easily take down a well-built man, but I think this was Treadwell's salvation; his only escape. After his dreams of being a Hollywood actor were shattered, he turned to drugs and his life was a chaos. Perhaps he sought for a simpler life, and he found that kind of comfort in the wild with the bears, which coincidentally he had a tremendous fascination with.

Despite the harm and troubles he brought to the animals and the Alaskan park's authorities, Treadwell had good intentions and he did do some pretty darn good things. His breathtaking footage of nature and the animals is proof enough, and he also taught kids in school about his experiences in the wild. He was brave and determined, and I respect and admire him for that, but there comes a time when under such circumstances, too much bravery and determination can be reckless.

This film tracing the life cycle of polar bears and walruses is amazing. It let me see so many things in their lives up close. Compared to their life-and-death struggles for survival, our problems seem so petty, and we're not doing much good contributing to global warming either.

There were so many signs of emotions throughout the documentary, and at some points I could clearly imagine a human being experiencing the same emotions as the bears and walruses. In fact, they seem to be able to express themselves better than us.

When Nanu's brother was too weak to walk any further and quietly died, his mother and sister snuggled by him for hours long after he had passed away. I guess they were mourning in their own way. The other scene that struck me as a very painful one for both mother and daughter was the parting, when the mother polar bear suddenly became distant from her cub, realizing that they would have to go separate ways if they were to survive in the harsh conditions.

The walruses are one big family and always stick together through the good and the bad. Sure, they move in groups on their instincts to survive, but they also love and take care of each other. When a predator comes, a walrus doesn't swim away alone but goes and warns the others before escaping together. Their love and devotion is best shown when the auntie sacrificed herself to save Seela, who also responded with a sad and anticipating gaze as she waited for her auntie.

I'm not sure how I'd describe this feeling, but there must have been something when Nanu approached the male polar bear's food. He threatened her at first, but he let her take what she needed in the end. He could have killed her easily if he had wanted to, but he didn't. Even if the conditions weren't so bad it would have been hard to catch a prey, so why would he have given up his? Pity? Empathy? Resignation?

I used to think that animals don't mate for love, but just to have offspring. It was interesting to see the picky Seela courted by the many young walruses. She chose her mate by his voice? I wonder if they'll grow to love one another so much that they'll sacrifice themselves for the other like auntie did.

Vending Machines... [Just random musing.]

I'm starting to suspect that they're deliberately made so they'll eat some of your money every few coins. You leave it there for a few hours, and it's fine again. How does that work?

Last semester when I watched "Meet Your Meat", I couldn't eat meat for nearly a month. Even the faintest smell of beef, pork, or chicken would make me lose my appetite. When I watched Fast Food Nation, I got that same feeling again. It's probably one of the most convincing films I've watched, one that sticks to me for a long time and actually has an effect on my life. My first reaction to all this was... "disgusting". The two realities that bother me the most are the treatment of animals and the Mexican workers. I seriously don't know which one of them have it the worst.

I hate to think that every time I'm at a restaurant eating a beef burger or a chicken breast, having the most wonderful time with not a care in the world, on the other side there are poor animals who never had a chance to live a real life, were tortured, and killed mercilessly. There are also the workers who have no choice but to endure slaying, skinning, cutting, and cleaning. As if dealing with raw meat, guts and gore wasn't enough, these workers have to be worried about their safety every second. It must be horrible knowing that one clumsy slip could lead to a missing finger, arm, or leg.

Although I can't deny that I don't eat meat, I really want to do something for their cause after watching this film. I don't want to live in a world where people are treated like worthless machines, and an animal's fate is to suffer from the day they're born.

a) Do we have an ethical responsibility toward animals? b) Do animals have emotions? Give examples if possible.

If this was thousands of years ago, we would have no more responsibility toward animals than a dog would toward a cat. I'm not saying we should be responsible because we are superior beings, but simply because we have done them harm, and we have to take responsibility and fix that. We have caused many species to go extinct, many to move out of their natural habitats, and many were killed for human benefits. I personally feel that we "owe" them in some way.

I believe animals have as much emotions as humans do; maybe not so many in variety, but they still have feelings. I'm not sure about all animals, but the ones I'm more familiar with definitely display their emotions. The most common example would be the dog, man's closest friend. Dogs can be jealous when you have too much attention for something else, they are lonely when they are left alone in the house, and they will "mourn" when their owner dies. I think animals and humans have more or less the same kind of emotion; it's just that humans know how to express themselves so other humans can understand. Like dogs understand other dogs, even if they speak to each other.

I think this film relates mostly to the point Ishmael makes about the Taker’s views on the Leaver culture. We see here that civilization and advancement in technology is not as good as we think. Xi in this film represents the bushmen and the Leavers, and they are a happy family, without the restrictions of laws, punishment, or crime. They don’t even have a word to express “guilty”. They are a peaceful little community. The adults share everything, their tools and resources, and the children play cute and inventive games (whereas in Taker culture the children tend to have a more violent nature towards playing and the adults cling to their possessions with greed).

These people live an almost carefree life and have no sense of time (there are no Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and so on) and contrary to Taker belief, they don’t live in fear of being preyed on (in fact, there are scenes where they are perfectly content walking amongst other animals). To find food of their own is no hard task either. They have tools such as anesthetic arrows of some kind that paralyses the animal. And to reinforce the fact that they are such a peaceful people, there’s even one part where the bushman apologizes to his unconscious prey and tells it that he had to kill it or his family would starve. The bushmen don’t worry or fear because they live in the hands of gods. Everything that happens, good or bad, is a result of gods’ works; when the Coca Cola bottle appears, they say it’s something the gods gave them.

Back to the Takers’ world—the movie makes a huge contrast on the two different lifestyles. Everything is rushed and there is an exact time for everything. As for killing, the people kill others of their own kind (the Leavers only kill their prey). If you look at these two cases, you would much rather live in the bushmen’s gentle and peaceful family rather than the chaotic Taker society. From Xi’s point of view, the Takers must be a stupid people because they have so much technology, but they would not be able to survive without them, and that is why the Takers cling on to it so tightly. They wouldn’t be able to survive because they are no longer living in the gods’ hands and therefore the gods don’t provide for the Takers.

The bottle that the bushman finds appears as an embodiment of the evil that comes from civilization. With it comes anger, jealousy, and hate. The bushmen may seem naïve to us, but they are pure and can see something that we are blind to; chaos. And yet we choose to live in this box of chaos; even if we had a choice to live otherwise, we would still cling to our culture.

At the end of the film, after Xi has helped Andrew, Kate and the others, you get a sense that it is possible for the Leavers and civilization to co-exist (if the Takers didn’t have the nature to wipe them out first), but they will never understand each other save for some few people whose careers are out here in the Leavers’ homeland. One of the most important things here I think was the bottle. The bottle brought all these bad things to Xi’s family, and in a way I see it as a metaphor that the Takers are corrupted, therefore the things they make are also corrupted, and not only are they confined to corrupt themselves but they also corrupt other peoples. If it hadn’t been for Xi’s decision to get rid of the bottle, the friendly and peaceful family of the bushmen might have been ruined. On a larger scale, the Takers are on a path to destruction as well. We might not see it, but it was shown very effectively in the film because of a large contrast with the Leavers. The bushmen had time to turn back, but we might not be so lucky. If we don’t get rid of our “evil thing” soon, it might be too late to save ourselves from being ruined.