I began high school with a lot of excitement. I studied mathematics, physics, and other sciences with great diligence. At the same time, I pursued philosophy with hopes of nailing down elusive truths of life, the universe, and everything.

I checked out many philosophy books from high school and university libraries. I only read them for a few days since I did not want to "pollute" my mind with the ideas of other men.

I began writing my thoughts on a clean sheet of paper. I tried very hard to find a way to systematically search for truth. I was consistent in my efforts and after several months, the writings grew into quite a stack.

One day, I was curious about the philosophy books that I had previously checked out from the libraries. To my astonishment, I had already thought of many ideas found in the books. With great excitement, I shut the books and once again returned them to the libraries.

I continued writing with fierce determination to find truth. However, this activity was carefully guarded - that is, no one knew about these efforts, not even my own family.