More on Schizophrenia

At parties, I am not the one to dominate the dance floor, throwing my hands in the air, eyes closed, body moving to the pulsing bass drum of one of today's top 40s. I always thought I would be.
No.
I dominate the corner of the room much better. I'm good at watching people. Some of them drunk, others dancing with each other in ways that the parents wouldn't approve of (It's college...), and others simply high on life itself. There's the occasional one or two who stumble out on the dance floor, trying to get into the movement of everybody else, trying to let go of themselves and just dance, but they just can't. They're too scared of looking or feeling stupid. They're out of place-- they feel and look like they just don't belong there. They would probably much rather a quiet movie with some friends, or a trip to a coffee shop alone with A Tale of Two Cities. But they're not watching a movie or reading a classic-- they're dancing in a tiny room with a bunch of people they don't know.

In a way, I really like where I stand. I get huge laughs out of people acting foolishly happy, and I can stay out of the whole Christian moral debate about drinking and partying.
And that's where it boils down. I am the indecisive, and otherwise isolated, observer.
I was talking to my good buddy Daniel about this not too long ago. It went more or less like this:
"Everything's in question, pretty much. And... I don't know. I feel isolated,
because I'm not ready to drop God or morals completely. But I also really want to, and there's a lot of reason to do so. But there's also a lot of reason NOT to. So you're just stuck between the two. You want to just have fun and party and do what you want, but you're also not quite sold if it's okay. And you're also not quite sold if it's NOT okay.
It's a terrible dilemma that pushes you to be the observer of other people pursuing whatever they believe: partying... Christianity... God, while you simply watch them from where you stand, wishing you were them."
You're a man with a foot in both camps, in a stalemate. Like World War I. There is no movement. You want to move, but are completely indecisive whether to the left or right.
I really do want to believe things. Being lukewarm really isn't an option. It's all or nothing. But what exactly All goes into is a terribly scary decision.

I feel very hypocritical. One day, I'm a Christian, all about God and his glory, etc. And then I go to sleep and it feels like someone has turned on a switch that tells me that God has nothing to do with me, that he never existed, and that Jesus was just a crazy hippie who fooled a lot of people, playing the biggest joke man has ever played on humanity. In just twenty-four hours, I go from Saint to Sacrilege-- a complete and distinct opposites. I do think that in the majority of the united states, this would be labeled as a severe case of schizophrenia. I feel like I belong in one of those white jackets that tie your arms together in a room with no windows and lots of pillows, and every eight hours, they inject this fluid into me for no apparent reason, all the while, me, screaming at the top of my lungs that We (both of me) are completely sane.

I'm the Traveling Sitar Player

At this moment, I feel just like the main character from Moulin Rouge-- the idealistic writer who comes to Paris in search of inspiration and love, ready to become the most influential writer concerning the Bohemian revolution and Love itself. The only problem is that he had never been in love. He had great ideas about love (most of these come from a long lineage of pop songs throughout the ages), like "All you need is love," and "Love is a many splendid thing." All great ideas, rolling off the tongue quite easily. But holding an actual girl in the arms of love? No. He can't say that he has done that, actually.
And neither can I.
Sure, I have an idea or two about love (most of them coming from trendy preachers from trendy churches) like, "Love is commitment," and "Love is patient, love is kind," etc... And these aren't bad ideas. It's just that the actual putting into practice of said ideas has never really happened, neither in my life nor in this Moulin Rouge character.
I know this sounds very hopelessly cliche, but I feel obligated to share my sentiments with the internet, no matter how trivial or bazaar.

And I suppose you could say that this blog is simply an immature cry for attention, where I can trumpet around saying that I'm lonely to whoever will listen and hope for the best.

Scarfs and Leaves

Tomorrow I am going away.
I'm not sure where, exactly.
I was supposed to go to New York with my friend Ben, but things changed, much to my disappointment, but also to my happiness.
I hope some day I can see that big city. Its towers, as of now, are only fictional rectangles in my mind-- not really concrete memories. I hope this can change soon. I want that city to be a fond memory.
But no. Instead, I am going to quite the opposite of a bustling city. I'm going to a quaint little tourist town somewhere in Tennessee with mountain trails around it where I can wear out my hiking boots. I'm rather excited. It's been too long since I've worn hiking boots.

The leaves are becoming more dramatic. Yes, I'm sorry I always revert my blogs back to leaves. But leaves are fantastic. They're prettiest when they start to die, and I think that is a beautiful irony.
It's also scarf weather. I like scarfs because they're so obscure. Wrapping a piece of linen around your neck to keep you warm? I'm sure there are other methods that might be a bit more practical. But practicality doesn't matter. Scarfs :)

Pwnd!!!

I've always felt like being really good at a video game was more like learning how to twiddle your thumbs very well. It doesn't seem that complex, let alone athletic. You stare at a screen with a funny look on your face without blinking and move your thumbs around and can finally call yourself good at something. Congratulations.

Yet my criticism of the gamers of America can only go so far, because I'm kind of a hypocrite. I'm infatuated with Legend of Zelda games and have spent my fair share of time on Runescape. RPG's have always caught my eye and the thought has popped into my brain more than once to go waste my money on an Xbox or Wii or something ridiculous.

When the new Halo game Reach came out, I actually felt like I was missing out on something great. When I heard that Dragon Age was having this awesome deal, I wanted in. And when I found out that Lord of the Rings Online was now free, I came close to hugging the stranger next to me in the library.

Perhaps I'm finally realizing that I have responsibilities now, and I'm desperate for a way out of reality for a little while. Call me an escapist, if you must.
Or call me a prodigal son who had lost his way from the Light... of a game screen...

I'm just worried about wasting my life. I don't want to do that at all.