It never falls far from the tree

So, apparently there is a morose gene, and a prediliction for myopic navel-gazing is an inherited trait. Who knew?

I don't remember this being covered in those 9th grade fruitfly experiments.

12/6/62, 3:10 am
I am keeping this journal as a record of my ideas, observations, and revelations pertaining to my life at the University of Pittsburgh.

11/7/88
This is my new journal.
I will try to purify my space and get the real feelings out.

1/6/63
I am depressed for the first time in many months. I have my health, but my mind is tired. In this world of beauty torn between evil, destruction, human misery, social prejudice, I have reached the time in my life where I must decide on a purpose. But what is the use: We’re born, we live, and we die and there’s nothing.

11/21/88
I ask so many questions that baffle me – that make the world so complicated and incredible and unfathomable. But then I get discouraged sometimes – I’ll never be worthy of its complexity, shifting depths, etc. Not only refusing to see I am a part of that “complexity,” but that I can answer those questions myself.

1/15/64
[still very naïve]
- Becoming more agnostic.
- Adopting many principles of Existentialism.
- Have become very pessimistic.
- Fear of death is growing.
- Live by my conscience – trouble is to find out what my conscience wants.

3/12/90
- Call Mom
- More cat litter (clumping)
- Go to gym
- Tibetan Book of the Dead (Protection from Fear bardo prayer)
- Copy Tracy Chapman record for spring break trip