The Curious Case of Cory Caswell

I don't know if it's because we were talking about Abraham Maslow and existentialism and the 60s today in my psychology class...but I just had this breakthrough/epiphany.
I have this FHE brother, Cory. And from day one, he has been blowing all our minds. Honestly, about 55-75% of the conversation in my house is about him. Which is pretty significant, considering we are 20-22-year-old girls, who have been trained to think about and talk about and obsess about quite different things.
The first few times we met Cory, he probably didn't say a word. But he kept coming over to hang out with us with his roommates. His roommates' motives for wanting to hang out with us were obvious. His motives? We figured it couldn't be just to get to know us, cause he never spoke. So what was the deal?
Well, being me, I can't resist an enigma. I am absolutely powerless against them. And his roommates kept talking about how much they love him...so there had to be something redeeming about this twiggy bit of silence. So I started being very straightforward with him. And he responded very well. I was shocked.
After I got over the shock, I continued to ask him whatever came to my mind on whatever subject, directly related to him or not. And he gave me very direct answers. And I discovered what may be the epitome of quirkiness.
Cory owns countless guns. He keeps them in his car and his bedroom. He has only a select few here. The other dozens are at home in California (the Bay area).
Cory listens to, almost exclusively, techno (but not trance), classic rock (mostly the Led), and The Mars Volta. Cory also hates Muse with a fiery passion (fiery, but not burning. Although I am convinced this passion began to exist the moment he discovered my fiery, burning love for Muse, and it came into existence just to irritate me).
Cory's singular love in his life is his cat, C-go (Cory-go). No woman will ever be able to compete with this cat. Direct quote: "If C-go could have kittens, my heart would melt into my diaphragm from joy."
Cory's primary hobby is paintballing. In addition to real guns, Cory spends hundreds of dollars each year on paintball guns. You can view them all on Myspace.
Cory's secondary hobby is video gaming. His current favorites are "Left for Dead" and "Guitar Hero: World Tour," which he will only play the drums for.
But these habits are only the beginning. These in themselves seem relatively harmless. What is really mind-boggling is his view on life.
Cory loves to destroy things. According to the personality theory of Erich Fromm, Cory would have acute Necrophilia, meaning an obsession with war, destruction, death, and he enjoys inflicting it if he can. Once we went to the store, and Cory bought everything he needed to make a small bomb in a water bottle, then he made it and set it off right outside of his apartment. In fact, Cory's knowledge of weaponry is both impressive and frightening. He can give intimate details about pretty much every explosive I've ever wanted to know about.
On the other hand, nothing brings Cory more joy than fuzzy things (like his cat). Mention kittens or puppies and Cory will melt in your arms. His mom used to breed Cavaliers, in fact, and once we had a battle of who had the cuter cavalier puppy pictures (Stacey won). Cory has a profuse collection of fleece blankets. He also has a kilt, as a side note. And a few Scottish flags. No bagpipes, unfortunately.
Once in Sunday school, the teacher asked us if we had any stories about receiving an immediate answer to prayer. Cory shared a story about his oscillating hedge trimmers, in which he prayed to be able to disobey his father and was then able to do so. It wasn't a serious disobedience (less than the Little Mermaid, anyway) but regardless. It was arbitrary.
Last night Cory almost yelled at me for telling him he was a great guy.
Taking in all of these factors, I believe I have finally figured out what the deal is. Cory is the truest non-conformist of all time. Because he doesn't realize that he is a non-conformist.
I think there are certains mechanisms in human nature that tell us we need to fit into a category. Probably because we naturally categorize everything we perceive into schemas, which includes other human beings. Let's be honest, you can probably stereotype yourself. For example, I love my roommates, and they are all very wonderful and interesting people, but there are definite stereotypes for all of us: Kasey - the athlete, Kristen - the sassy one, Sarah - the quirky one, Katie - the hot dancer one, and me - the English majory way too smart one. I can't even begin to stereotype Cory Caswell.
Because Cory Caswell does what he wants to do.
I have always liked the color purple. Ever since about first grade. But until a few months ago, I never admitted it, I hardly ever wore purple clothes, I never used purple in the scheme of my life. Why? Because it didn't seem to fit in what I felt was who I am, or how I perceived at least. Because purple is a color of luxury and romance. And I am not an advocate of luxury and romance.
Cory Caswell does not even conceive of limitations like that, consciously or unconsciously (probably). He just is and does whatever he likes without even thinking about it.
His roommate put it best. I was walking home with him, telling him I was going home to write a paper that was due in two hours. He replied, "Well, hopefully then Cory isn't at your house corying around."
Cory Caswell: (n) an apotheosis of existentialism; pure humanity
to cory: (v) to distract, tease, and uplift simutaneously
In reality, we are all a little bit of Cory Caswell. We all have quirks and anomalies in our personalities. But we recognize them as that. Cory just has them. May we all become a bit more Cory Caswell.

Beautiful

So I have this friend who is possibly the most beautiful woman on Earth. She is beautiful because she smiles. She is beautiful because she sings. She is beautiful because she listens. She is beautiful because she talks. She is beautiful because she understands. She is beautiful because she is spunky. She is beautiful because she knows she's amazing. She is beautiful because she knows she's smart. She is beautiful because she's humble. She is beautiful because she laughs. She is beautiful because she hugs. She is beautiful because she cuddles. She is beautiful because she yodels. She is beautiful because she never stops learning. She is beautiful because she never stops loving. She is beautiful because she really lives. Mostly she is beautiful because she dresses up in my little sisters' dance costumes and loves it.

Love is a Many Splendored Thing

They say "it is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all."
I used to refuse to believe this. There is just no way that losing someone you've loved would be ok. At least if you've never loved you don't know what you're missing.
Now that I've experienced this exact event, I can say that I still disagree. But for different reasons.
In my experience, when you love someone completely, you incorporate so much of them into yourself that even when you are separated you haven't lost them. You can't lose them. They will always be a part of you, even if they left you out of their own choice. And because you loved them, if you really loved them, it's ok. You wouldn't have it any other way. It's just good enough that they graced your life for any amount of time.