Proverbs

Fools hate knowledge. 2:22

For the simple are killed by their turning away, and the complacency of fools destroys them, but whoever listens to [the Lord] will dwell secure and will be at ease, without dread of disaster. 1:32-33

For wisdom will come into your heart. 2:10

Let not steadfast love and faithfulness forsake you; bind them around your neck. 3:3

Well, can you see how it kind of connects? It's part of a story - God's story.

By the way, what is love?

There is a theological answer to that question. And a sexual contemporary world answer. But I have heard one word that prods my conscience the most:

Sacrifice.

Love is sacrifice.

Four thirds radius cubed

Sometimes there was one person who flooded my entire thought capacity with his image, his words, and his touch.
Those sometimes have faded away. There is no one who haunts my mind behind its dark, heavy tapestries of escape. There is no one who crawls in my heart and grabs the numbers that should be calculating themselves as I scribble them across the page.
Now, now what? I am no longer someone else. We are our thoughts, and I used to only think people. So I was people - I was a person - but I was not anything more than simply my elementary dreams.

This gives me some space. I never had space before. This space is worth exploring...
Only, I have found nothing to have any, utter significance, except God.

Cogito ergo sum?

Words don't mean anything anymore because intentions speak for them.

My extracurricular involves arguing. This is my ticket to college, the star on my classy resume, my pride and joy. I argue because I like it. I argue because I can't do this in reality. Reality is for losers.

This extracurricular is my mask. I talk to people not because I want to know them, but because I want them on my side. My smile is insincere, I laugh for followers, not for the heck of it. This is practice, practice for reality, a loser's world. People aren't always going to like you, they say, so you have to pretend. You're not yourself anymore. This is a world where you can't be yourself. You're everybody's best friend. Nerds? No. What is this word, I do not understand. Flirting? Underrated. Acting preppy? Arguably, I've incorporated that into my life. Something I hate. But I love it, I love it.

This extracurricular is image. Pants? I don't wear them. Skirts and dresses make boys like you more, and it's true. Won't you remember a girl in a sexy skirt more than a girl in boring black pants? Clicking high heels, parted hair in a Wall Street-worthy updo, a spritz or two of perfume. Glamor at its finest. I put my costume on and I am a different person. Goodbye, sweet. Hello, fierce.

I play this extracurricular like a game. It is a game. Perform well, instant elevation. You're not right for it? That's fine. I don't care. I don't care about anybody except for myself and my team, but I'm against them, too. This is an individual sport, a bloodbath. Of course there's cheating. Enemies are like your best friends for life, the epitome of oxymorons.

I remember that I am worthless to people with whom I play. I am worth nothing unless I fight for it. How can I ever prove myself if I don't try? Politics infiltrate even the team, there's not a trace of sincerity. Nobody cares about others. What a self-centered world I love.

I am not a monster.

But I love it. I love it so much.