Schizophrenic Zen

John Price ‘08

Coach George may be clinically insane. I am not allowed to leave the unearthly confines of the bike during workouts. It kills me . Really, it does. The noise filters into your ears and liquefies your brain. The seat feels as though you are sitting on some device made by the very denizens of hell. Twenty miles on that thing has a way of lasting forever.

What do you think went through Satanel's mind as they took the -el from his name and threw him from heaven? I bet it really sucked. Poor Satanel, being the adversary of God and all. Did he know what he was going to be when God named him? Would not some strange lights go off in his head?

"Hey, why does everyone else have names like 'Love of God?' It's weird..."

Q: What's the sound of angels falling from heaven? A: "HOLY SHIT WHY DON'T MY WINGS WORK!?"

If there is one thing I learned about video games, it’s that, in war, the bad guys have different-colored lasers.

Being antisocial has its downsides. When the rest of my "peers" are having sexual contact with girls, I am home alone, playing Metal Gear Solid, and wondering what it's like to actually kiss a girl.

Q: Do you have stairs in your house? A: Yes, I am protected.

Peter and I were walking from Westgate Mall. It was raining, but there were people around and I had to get out of there.

"Why are you such a damn pussy?" Peter asked.

"You know I have to keep up my appearances, honey. I'm not supposed to like people," I replied. The scent of the outside world made me want to vomit.

"Don't call me honey," Peter ordered as he hit me.

I don’t even pretend to understand girls sometimes. They are capable of thinking eighty-five billion thoughts at once. They can mix information and emotion. What I’m trying to say here is that girls are weird.

Inhale, inhale. Exhale, exhale. Breathe in, breathe in. Breathe out, breathe out. Choke and die, choke and die. Let zen wash over what is left of you.

I wonder what it's like to be a cute counterculture kid. I bet it's a huge pain in the ass to put on makeup all the time. But, I'd always wear the make-up and the rest of the "Unconforming And Rebelling Gear." I'd wait until someone thinks it's funny to call me Dracula or Jack Skellington, and then I'd shoot them and eat their brains.

Q: What did the monkey say to the rhino? A: Because seven ate nine!

The voice of your conscience is not your own. He stands behind the curtain, gleefully smoking a cigar. Big Brother’s telling you what to feel. Get Toto away from there. Seriously.

Lav was walking down the hallway with a look in his eyes that could only mean pain and suffering. He smiled at me and waved.

“What are you smiling for?” I asked, pausing to wash my hands in the drinking fountain and ask myself why I bothered talking to people.

“I’m overthrowing the government, Bolshevik swine. Neo-monarchism all the way.” He sort of sniggered.

“Aren’t you a socialist?” I asked without caring.

“That’s for emo kids and English majors, Price,” he answered simply.

Hord's the kind of kid that could perfectly blend into any subculture if you gave him an hour. He'd meld into it, and he'd eventually become one of them. The government would have to send a dependable but foolhardy squad of misfits to track him down and retrieve him. But, they would learn that they are the good guys. Then, the government would nuke them. Did I mention that he’s a vampire? He is.

Dying wouldn't probably be too bad. Even if there were no heaven or hell, it'd probably be really restful being nothing. But of course, if you were nothing you could not feel yourself being nothing. Which is a total downer.

Q: Come play my game? A: Inhale inhale, exhale exhale.

You don't exist the way you think you do. Repeat your name over and over. Eventually, you'll come to realize that it is not a name. It's a series of sounds that you respond to. Those sounds could be anything.

Stare at yourself in the mirror. The face you are looking at could be any other face in the world. How do you know that you are that person? The perceptions others have of you could be completely different.

There is no true sentience. Your brain makes you think you think.

Q: Do I care? A: Do I care if you care?

I pledge my allegiance to all things dark and dire.

The curtain falls on the adolescent actors as they take their bows. The parents smile and clap. The curtain kills three and decapitates another. The Land of the Pixies is a very tough play to pull off.