Day Eleven: *Yawn*

Well, I'm quite sleep-deprived. Quite my own fault, I know. Shut up, Schu. This morning I was so tired that I actually slept late enough for my alarm clock to actually wake me up. But these past couple of days have been strange and amusing to say the least.

Farfarello hates God, and is amused by the fact that the members of the cult of Rael (because we both agree that it's too much of a compliment and an assumption of rationality to refer to them as a religion or an actual intellectual movement) wear badges that say "There is no God". He was rather confused as to why I as offended, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right? As long as he's securely and snugly in his straitjacket while I'm gallivanting off to a church activity, everyone in the household is happy and safe. But Benten and I trotted off to see these strange cult people, more out of amusement than to learn anything, and here are our conclusions about these people in general:

1) For a bunch of people who claim to found their religion on science and technology, they're awful morons who cannot work a simple VCR
2) "Sensual meditiation" really isn't that great of a euphemism for "giant orgy", especially not when delivered by a Frenchwoman of questionable fashion sense
3) For a 'religion' supposedly based on pure science, it sure takes a huge leap of faith to believe a French guy when he says he was taken up into a space ship by a little alien who looked, from all descriptions, like the Gundam pilot Wufei. Those French...

I must confess, though, that the audience was quite rude. Despite the utter ridiculousness of the whole affair (their official info video had clippings from 'Sightings'), the speakers deserved respect because they were putting effort into it and have sacrificed their time...but Benten and I booked it out of there anyway.

But I have decided to rant on the thing which is causing an awful schism in my mind, and Schu is taunting my by sending images of the grand canyon and me sinking another large building, one on campus. Yes, Schu, I hate you too.

There seems to be some awful dichotomy between rash emotions and rationality. The mind tends to want two things at once, one of which is the result of acting on rash emotions, the result of the other being the product of calm, rational analysis. For the whole spiel people love to tell us when we're children, "listen to your heart" rarely seems to lead to a good outcome, and in much of my growing up I seem to prefer the rational side of things, part of which I rather ashamedly attribute to Brad, and whenever I decide to take a plunge and "follow my heart" (which is sounding less like a pep talk and more like a foretelling of doom every time Schu whispers it in my mind) something seems to go terribly wrong *cough*deadTot*cough*. Rationality, on the other hand, rarely seems to lead to fun, and I refuse to go through life being straight-laced and perfect all the time...or I'll end up like Brad. On the other end of the continuum, of course, is Schuldig, and if I followed in his footsteps and I'd never get anything done. And somehow, with the sweetness that is my mad family, a third path in life has emerged for me, and that is one of madness, in which I am oblivious to the world around me and live in an existence I have purely created for myself...but a straitjacket wouldn't do much to contain me, would it?

So here I walk a fine line, hovering on the edge of indecision. Do I want to live my life and become a miniature Brad, a faithful company soldier whose life is not only shaped by the rules but whose existence is contingent upon the rules? I do not want to become Schuldig, filled with blind pleasure and shallow joy and hollowed out and refilled with pain...Farfarello's madness is most tempting, but rationality (damn that rationality) says that the team is in need of only one madman, and the power from my gift comes with my ability to control it, something that madness would utterly destroy. I want to do something incredibly stupid and fun...no, not something that involves a complete degeneration of my morals, but something irresponsible...

Of course, my rational voice speaks again and warns me of the consequences, which I can predict will be painful and loud and aggravating, and I don't even need Brad to tell me that. I am so tired...and confused...and I need to do something, like go be productive today. My productivity is falling again, and I hear Brad's footsteps, hear the soft click of a hammer...I will go now...

P.S. So you can see the catboys and the enemies of Scwarz and some other random bishonen: White and Black