No website for the past few days. No weblog. I had had little sleep over the past few weeks, even missing fencing on Thursdays. I was no closer to finishing any projects. I had a whole bunch of tests lined up that day. Yet, I was really happy sitting there on the bench, eating my lunch. None of my friends were dressed up for Halloween Two, but I was still incredibly happy. I tried telling random people, “Happy Halloween Two,” but they ignored me. They didn’t even have the courtesy to gawk at my ostentatious royal purple king outfit, with construction paper crown. Hah, but I was still happy in my dumb costume. Why? Perhaps because I felt so incredibly alive?

Tension had sort of abounded lately amongst my acquaintances. Yet, in that silly costume, none of it mattered. No, putting on the king outfit wasn’t an escape. It wasn’t the costume that was fake; it was life that was fake. I felt so, well, alive, knowing that life was just a joke. People take it way too seriously. If people took life less seriously, then I could kill way more people. But really, if life is a joke, then isn’t it easier to find a place in our hearts to forgive? Those transgressions against us, they’re just part of the joke. Stop taking them so seriously. Why waste energy on something so trivial? Remember, to err is merely human. To err a lot, that’s just a lot more human.

In my Major Religions class, we were learning about Hinduism, and “maya.” Maya is the cosmic illusion — its the finite. We perceive ourselves as separate, but we are really one essence, according to Hinduism. Now, I didn’t see this, but this realization was similar. It also reminded me of another school topic. In English, my group is doing a project on the Theater of the Absurd. The tragic absurdist hero is one who attempts to insert order into a naturally illogical universe, and suffers as a result. In essence, the absurd nature of the play is more real than a more logical play and plot.

I was piercing through this veil of the routine of life. I could see the world clearly for what is was: insignificant. All our little, and big, problems mean nothing. My problems, too, meant nothing. I was without a care. That’s partly why I must have been so happy.

All those people seeing me on the bench, dressed as a king, who thought, “What a fool!” were wrong. Really, the joke is on them. They’re the fools! They’re taking life way too seriously — wrapped up in their little world, where all that matters are their problems. In the grand scheme of things, is what I’m doing any less absurd than what they’re doing? They’re trying to inject all these rules, and it comforts them, but they’re arbitrary. They’re just following. Following the others and their rules. Following the day as it goes along. I’m the one living in reality, they’re not.