A cynical day today. . .

I am so full of thoughts, I can hardly speak. . . but yet, I probably could speak for an hour without stopping too. I have been in two very thought-provoking classes today, and both of them drove me to thinking a great deal about religion and social interactions and culture. Also, as I was walking around Bethel today, I just LONGED for true connectedness. . . .I felt like a stranger walking among. . . . .more strangers. I loathe the high-pitched question: "How are you?" as we pass in the halls, a question that feigns sincerity, but communicates superficiality to my ears. We are consumed with our own lives, I am consumed with my life as well, and we don't REALLY have the time to sit down and interact with each other. There are too many things that are far too important. It seems as if we are only existing at times, and not really living. Sometimes, when you have witnessed people who REALLY know how to live, you begin to wonder what you have been doing yourself this whole time. When I was in Latin America, I got to know many people who knew how to LIVE, how to be in the moment, how to love passionately, how to witness beauty, how to learn from history, and they seemed to be more alive than I think I've ever been. So, now, when I come back to a place like this, I feel so dead. My friend Rachel once said: "Everyone here at Bethel just seems to be so dead." There is no passion in our voices or conviction in our souls, we simply go from one day to the next to simply survive. . . . .(it's so curious that I always write on here when I am at the height of emotion or passion, and my words are usually a reflection of that. I never really feel impressed upon to write unless I have something in me, compelling me to write. I think I ought to start writing on mundane days, and seeing how I write in the midst of routine. . . .who knows?)

Gosh, I miss some of the beautiful souls around here. . . .like Sarah Wehrenburg, and Joel Addington, and Andene Christopherson. . . . .some of those beautiful souls that could see right into you without going through the fakeness first. Where are the authentic souls around here? I feel lost in a sea of fakeness. . . . .