May 6th Saturday
The guys are all out partying, even the studious ones. The dorm organised a party and invited some of us. Though I was invited, I find myself sitting in front of my computer, having by default made the choice not to go. It was not an active choice, but a passive one, one that I have made so many times. I'm a paradox. I've tested extreme extrovert and extreme introvert on the same personality test once. According to some people, it is actually possible. How I reconcile the two facts is still a mystery to me. The many other times I sat out of party invitations are somewhat unlike this one. I now wonder if I'm missing out on new experiences by not being open to them. I know some of you reading this are out there nodding your heads, muttering at how obvious an observation that is. It is not that I have not been out on a party ever in my life. The few that I've ever attended (IRC outings with unfamiliar people, some social gatherings) have often left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. I remember coming home feeling I had wasted my time. I found no interesting people there, or if there were, they were too drunk or too busy trying to look good. Like Sir Henry Wotton writes "entertains the harmless day / with a well chosen book or friend". There is no pleasure like a good conversation or a well written book. Maybe I'm too old for all this. Or maybe I really am anal-retentive, closing the doors on any new experience. I'm still wondering if I should have gone.
I sat behind a girl in one of my lectures, and overheard a conversation (spoken at a high volume). She was proudly telling her friend how she found a Catcard (the University of Arizona's Identity Card) and found that it had some money stored in the cash chip. She treated her classmates to chips and soda. Her other friend happily concurred on the decision "well it's not like you had to pay for it". I sat there stunned for a moment. In my mind I recall a time when honour was something to be aspired towards and treasured. It seems like a distant and faraway place. So far away I even wonder if it ever existed. Was there actually a time when the good of a fellow man was something to be held sacred? Are my ideals but a dream that never was?
I am not a perfect being. Honestly, I am far from perfect. But to see the fight die out in today's generation is not something I feel comfortable with. "Who will join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me? Somewhere beyond the barricade is there a world you long to see?" Indeed, do we stand and fight? Or do we, like that friend, just give up and agree that honour is non-existent, and that the fight is not worth fighting?
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