Happiness is a state of mind. My roommate reminded me last night of just how happy I sounded when I called her in New York, "oh my god, you sound so happy and SO LOVING, Qing Qing." A couple days before Christmas, I was making round calls to friends while walking down 6th Ave toward Union Square. I don't think I was feeding off any specific event that made me glorious happy, rather, I think I was literally bouncing off the energy and pace of the city: the Christmas store fronts, the crowds of people. In other words, I was literally hyping up my own happiness because I believed that by being in the greatest city of the world, I ought to be happy. Maybe it's this ought that makes all the difference. Maybe it's this ought that made me a hermit in Ohio, that made me semi-renounce humanity, a bigot wearing the guise of the victimized. And so, I wager to... start listening to more pop music. That's it. I know nothing. I renounce myself.