Fancy

It was six in the morning and I
Was freshened up for school
I took a UV Express van and
Sat in front of
This good-looking guy
He was perhaps
In his early twenties
And he had a black Alaxan shirt on
Of all things
But he paired it with
Nice-fitting charcoal jeans
A red backpack on his lap
Color-matched with his red loafers
Showing his ankles
And I saw all these because
I checked him out, top
To toe

But it was his face, you see
It was his face
Which made me do a double-take
For he looked just like
The first guy I fell in love with
And though I know
It would be a stretch
To see him there in front of me
After all these years
I heard that he was working in the south
So really, it could be him
For all I knew
But of course, he didn't recognize me
For he wasn't even looking at me
Since he was
Asleep

And it was all fancy
I admit
An embarrassing sort of fancy
With me imagining that he was mine
And I thought of
How it would have felt
To have him lean his head
On my shoulder
Instead of on the back of the
Cold and lifeless seat
To his right
How it would have felt
To hold his backpack for him
So that he would be
More comfortable
How it would have felt
For him to rely on me
To wake him up at the right time
So he wouldn't miss
His stop

He was asleep so I
Had the liberty to inspect his face
As I would have if he were mine
My eyes traced
The features of his face
As if they were my hands
And I imagined
Waking up beside him
In the morning
And giving him the lightest
Of kisses
On his forehead
On his cheek
On his lips
Or how my hand will gently
Brush away his slightly unkempt hair
Away from his ears
And how that will wake him up
His eyes locking onto mine
And he would smile
At me
And I know for sure
Even if it was all my fancy
That that would be
Divine

And I know I'm old
And I've been there
And everyone says that
I've been there and back
And they expect better things from me now
And I expect better things from me too
But sometimes
I cannot pretend anymore
I cannot pretend that I'm over with love
No matter what I may say
That after all that has happened
Deep inside
I'm still this
Lovestruck boy
Trying his luck
And never giving up
What I say to others
I'm just cloaking them with
Big words
Fancy words
Intellectual words
Take them all away
And you'll find
That all the same, I'm only
Lonely

Sometimes I
Consider myself lucky
Because I can conjure up
These powerful images
In my head
And I can make them so strong
That I can make them real
In my head
That I can feel what I cannot feel
In real life
That at least, as long as I have
My imagination
I would never feel
That emotional void which we're all
Trying to avoid
But perhaps, these heights
These temporary highs
I induce in myself
Are only making the lows
All the more difficult to bear
Like tonight
When I have nobody but
My emotions for company
Like tonight
When I am left staring
Into the
Night

Along the Vein

I've done two very pivotal things in the span of a few weeks. First, I tried to kill myself. And when that failed, I ran away. Of course, you wouldn't expect that it's an easy feat recovering from that state of mind I was in when I decided to commit suicide. I understand now that it never really fades away. I feel like I'm a profoundly different man now. People may see me as back to normal, but of course, I'm only acting for their sake. I've worried too many people as it is so I think it's best to pretend that I'm okay now. I can show them the scars on my wrist, but the deeper ones (and those that matter) are within.

I try to make light of it when I talk about it with my students. But deep inside I find myself still curiously afraid of what I tried to do. Normally, the fear should have come first before the attempt. But when I had that knife ready against my wrist I was feeling strangely calm. I wasn't hysterical. I wasn't even crying, even when it became so painful I had to close my eyes. I deliberately kept my mind blank as I repeatedly traced that knife along my vein. I didn't think of my future. I didn't think of my friends. I suppose that though the act itself failed, I was successful in readying myself for it. And in a twisted way, I am proud of myself for that. My friends know that this has been running 'round my head for years now, and they shouldn't be surprised when I actually went ahead and did it. They should've known it was only a matter of time.

At the moment, I am hard-pressed in trying to explain to you my reasons for doing it. All I know for sure is that it isn't as simple as you might think. It is mostly philosophical in nature though. I've probably been thinking and reading too much and I've been left to myself for too long without anyone to talk to. But all I know for sure was when I did it, I felt like it was my time to go. I have been feeling like it was my time to die for many months now actually. And there are moments when that notion becomes so strong that at times, I feel like I'm a dead man walking.

You may have noticed that I never warned anyone about it. I understood that if I went ahead with writing notes to my loved ones I'd probably lose my nerve. I tried not to think about anything at all, really. Nothing else was on my mind but the deed. Nothing else.

I don't really understand it though, why I have this urge and why others don't. It may be partly genetic, for all I know. It is true that wasn't really feeling happy the past few months. But I wasn't feeling miserable either. I was simply numb. Maybe perhaps that absence of feeling was what allowed me to do it. As I've figured out years ago, you have to turn both your mind and your feelings off if you want to kill yourself. Unless you want to go out in a rage or in a passion, which apparently, isn't my style.

Looking back, I see now that there aren't really a lot of feelings involved when I got in this state. It's like doing a calculation. I'm simply following what the answer says that's all. It's almost completely logical. I did not have to like it or to hate it. It simply is. The psychologists and the philosophers out there can explain it better than I do. I've read their thoughts on it, and some of them got my case right.

This suicide attempt and this running away - these are all part of my plan (except for not being able to anticipate I'd fail in the former.) And yes, I know that in the real world I'm not exactly known for planning anything about my life and that is still true. I don't have any plans at all about my material future. But this plan I'm talking about is in finding out who and what I really am. I'm on this quest to answer life's most basic questions which most of you might be taking for granted if you're not completely ignoring them. I understand that most of you are preoccupied with real things like studying or working to have time to even acknowledge these uncomfortable questions and I respect that you chose to live that way. This is simply part of the path I've decided to take. So in a way, no matter how lost I may appear to outsiders, I actually still know what I'm doing. I have a good plan. Even if that plan includes my own annihilation.

I understand that the people who care most about me are scrambling for solutions. They keep showing me how much they care. Now more than ever. They help me in listing down my options. They remind me of why choosing to live is much better. I appreciate their efforts. I truly do. And I go along with them because I care for them and I want to keep them happy. But you see, until I see this issue as a problem, I'm not sure if I can completely commit myself to recovery. Because as I've said, I don't see this as being completely under my control. I'm not doing this for attention. I'm not doing this because I want to feel loved. This is simply what must be.

Room Boy

It was the second night of my escape and I've landed on yet another city. I was wandering around the centro and I had already been to two hotels in this city (I did some searching through the internet) but I found out that they were beyond my budget. I had enough money, but I didn't mean for this trip to be a luxurious one.

So there I was. Lost in a city I've never been in and walking to and fro, glancing into streets and looking for hotel signs. I saw couples dating, sitting on benches in the park. Groups of friends in cool outfits, going out on a Friday night. I kept walking. And though the waiting tricycle drivers might be getting suspicious with me passing them by for the nth time, I pretended that I had a destination. I wasn't afraid though. I knew that as long as I didn't go too far from the centro, I'd be alright. And if the worst happened and I wasn't able to find a place to stay, I could always go to the police station and ask for some assistance. Those were the two important things I learned on this trip so far to avoid getting lost - find the town center and the nearest police station.

After less than thirty minutes, I found a hotel sign which looked passable. And by passable I mean that it was neither too shabby nor too expensive. I walked inside and went up to the second floor where the reception desk was. I found out that it was mostly a sex hotel since their rates are measured by the hour. I checked in for 12 hours in their cheapest room and allowed the room boy to lead the way.

The room I got was on the 4th floor and it turned out okay. I had an electric fan turned on at the highest speed, a TV with cable, a surprisingly comfortable bed, a very narrow comfort room, and best of all, an ashtray. It was clean and not too scary-looking and that was enough. I changed my clothes and went out to buy some food from the convenience store.

When I got back, there was someone sweeping on the third floor. At first I thought it was the room boy who escorted me earlier but when I saw the arm holding the dustpan, I knew it couldn't be since this arm was fair and muscular. My eyes traced that arm to the face where it belonged and for a microsecond I stopped climbing the stairs. Hunger. I felt hunger, strong and pure and I knew that I hadn't seen a room boy as attractive as he was. Why, he did not look like a room boy at all even if he was wearing their uniform. He looked like... I don't know. Maybe a prince? He was that good-looking.

He looked at me and though I (unconsciously) tried to hold his gaze, he went back to work. I knew that I couldn't just stay there and stare so I had to walk past him and climb the next flight of stairs though I noticed that I did so much more slowly.

I was watching American Idol while lying on my bed but I still couldn't get him off my mind so I made a plan to be able to see him again. I went down to the lobby and ordered some coffee (though I already bought one from the convenience store earlier) from the receptionist and there he was, resting on the sofa and watching TV. He was sitting behind me though and even if I wanted to turn and simply look at him, I couldn't without me being too obvious. I had a hunch that the girl receptionist had a crush on him too (she wouldn't be able to help it) and I fancied that a fight over him there will be if I so much as hinted that I liked him in front of her. After paying, I stood there, waiting for my coffee but the receptionist told me that it will be delivered to my room (yay!) so up I went.

After closing the door, I sat on the edge of my bed and hoped (with all my might) that he will bring me my coffee. Surely, that was part of his job. Surely, it couldn't be the security guard or the receptionist. Surely.

I couldn't contain my excitement. So I snatched up the hotel policies, read it, and gave lewd meanings to "the hotel staff will also provide additional services to guests if the need arises." I also studied the fire escape map and took note of the staff room or the stock room or other places where he might be found.

While waiting, I imagined all sorts of scenarios which could bring him inside my room. I imagined spilling the coffee on me and asking his help to change my clothes. I imagined spilling it on the floor and when we both kneel down to clean it, we'll kiss. I imagined giving him a tip and talking to him through my eyes that I wanted his company and he would go inside, sit on my bed, and he would hold me.

He would put his arm around me or he would hold my hand and he would look curiously at me. And he would ask my name and where I'm from and I would tell him my story - starting from my flight and ending with how I got there in his city. And he wouldn't know the right words to say, I know. And he wouldn't be able to make things right and I know that too. But it just gets lonely, traveling all by yourself and not being able to talk to anyone. And me alone in my room. Always alone in my room.

Then someone was knocking on my door so I stood up, took some money out of my pocket (for his tip) and opened the door. And there he was! There he was, so close! He had his head down so I couldn't catch his eye and he handed me the coffee on a platter and I placed it on my table but when I turned back he was gone and the money was still on my hands. Why was he avoiding my eye? Did he think I had somebody in my room? Didn't the receptionist tell him I was alone?

After an hour, I went down to the lobby again. I wasn't giving up. One last glance and I'd be okay. One last try. But he wasn't in the lobby. He wasn't in the third floor. He wasn't on the couch in the first floor. He was nowhere to be found.

I ended up walking til I was outside the building. And I just stood there and smoked, gazing at this new city around me and I pretended I was Joseph Gordon-Levitt in "Mysterious Skin" and that someone will pick me up. I was outside this shady hotel and I was waiting and I was smoking and I was pretending to be a callboy. Someone will pick me up soon, I thought as I eyed strangers who were eyeing me back.

"What is there to lose" I thought, "when I've tried to give up my life already?"

A Kiss

It was dark everywhere but this place was all about the lights.

And you were pulling me closer but I was trying to catch his eye and still you went on and I knew that you didn't know how terribly convoluted the situation was. Oh, you have no idea. No fucking idea. But it was all just for fun so I tried to have fun though I'm not sure if he was having any.

Then you turned me around and made me face someone else and I thought this guy seemed okay and maybe we'll have a little kiss. Maybe he'll take me home and maybe we'll even have breakfast together, but I just hate the coldness after. I've never been good at handling that. But then what's a kiss worth these days can you tell me? What's sex worth these days when you can go grab any that you fancy and in that place it was forgivable? It was even expected. A kiss. Just a kiss. What's it worth these days?

And I know it would have been cool. Perhaps it would have felt exciting not to be a wallflower for once but I... I've never mastered that art you see. I lose something whenever I try and I've tried so much I'm now as dry as a husk but you have no idea since we just met so I do nothing except look. I keep scanning the crowd but I don't see my baby there so I do nothing. I look for him there you see. I keep looking for him. I keep thinking one day I'll see him there and maybe we'll kiss and maybe he'll finally take me back home. He was my home, you see. At least, he used to be.

But then you pulled me back again so my thoughts pulled back too and I faced you and then I looked at his face and I saw you looking at each other and I thought maybe you'd kiss and there was this small part of me protesting at the idea but I killed it because I do what's right.

But what's a kiss worth these days can you tell me? What's a harmless kiss' worth? A bellyful of saliva? A nip on the lip? A slimy tongue exercise on learning how deep one can go?

For me a kiss is worth a dream. It's less of an action and more of a reaction. A decision. A kiss is coming home. And I know that at this unholy age I'm much too fucked up by life already but I hold on to these silly things all the same. They laugh at me because of this I know. They roll their eyes and smirk but I have to keep some of my old self intact if I were to go on living.

And everywhere it was dark, but it was all about the lights and I saw brief multi-colored glimpses of everyone's faces and in those fleeting snapshots I saw that we didn't really look drunk. We looked lost. And that darkness - it made the distance between us greater than what it really was as if we're planets drifting in space. And even if some of us were already glued through the mouths there were still the shadows in between. So dark. So lost. So we dance. And we look up at the blinking lights as if they were stars, wishing for that one special kiss to bring us home.

My Friend, My Benefit

Sa salamin tayo nag-uusap.

Nakaupo ako sa kama, samantalang ikaw nakatayo sa may banyo. Nakaharap tayo sa salamin at doon tayo nagkikita ng mata. Kakatapos lang natin kumain ng dala kong takeout na Jollibee.

"Ang puti mo pala," sabi mo bigla.

Napatingin tuloy ako sa sarili ko sa salamin. Mukhang maputi nga ako tingnan. Naka-sando lang kasi siguro ako. Tapos siguro nakatulong na din na hindi na ako nagsusuot ng salamin ngayon kaya medyo maaliwalas tingnan ang mukha ko. Gusto ko sanang sabihin na pagkatapos ng lahat ng mga nangyari sa atin, ngayon mo lang napansin na maputi pala ako. Ilang beses mo na ako nakita nang walang damit tapos ngayon mo lang yun napansin?

Nag-shower ka at humiga na muna ako sa kama at nag-isip. Bisperas ng pasko. Maraming tao sa labas. At heto tayo, magkasama. Normally, mga magka-relasyon lang ang magkasama ng ganitong araw. Pero heto tayo, magkasama.

Maya-maya, lumabas ka na at humiga sa tabi ko. Nakatingin tayo pareho sa kisame. Hindi tayo nagpapansinan. "Ako lang ba ang nagtataka sa sitwayon na ito?" inisip ko.

At iyon, nagsimula ka nang magkuwento. Dapat nga, kakain na muna tayo sa labas bago tayo pumunta sa hotel. Pero sabi mo takeout na lang para makapag-kuwentuhan tayo. Kaya iyon, hinayaan lang kita kasi alam kong gusto mo ng kausap. Maya-maya, magkadikit na mga braso natin. Kunyari hindi ko namalayan.

Pumapatak ang metro at ako ang nagbayad ng kuwarto pero hinayaan lang kita magkuwento nang magkuwento. Pwede naman sana gawin iyon sa labas. Sa ibang lugar na walang bayad. Pero sa labas kasi hindi kita matitingnan nang maigi. Yung tipong malapitan talaga. Hindi naman sa nagwa-gwapuhan talaga ako sa iyo pero minsan ang sarap mo tingnan habang nagsasalita ka. Nadadala kasi ng personality mo. Nadadala ng pagkatao mo.

Hindi ko na din natiis at maya-maya ay niyakap na kita. Niyakap mo din ako. Pero tuloy lang ang kuwentuhan natin. Lumapat ang kamay ko sa tagiliran mo at bigla kang gumalaw.

"May kiliti ka pala dito?" sabi ko.

"Oo."

"E dito?" Gumalaw ka ulit.

"Huwag," sabi mo.

At hindi ko na pinilit. Kasi pakiramdam ko ikaw yung tipo ng lalaki na hindi ganun. Lalo na kas hindi naman tayo.

Minsan hinahalikan kita. Sa balikat mo, habang magkatabi tayo sa kama. Sa leeg. Sa pisngi. At alam ko na bawal dapat iyon kasi nga, hindi naman tayo. Pero hindi ko alam din sa sarili ko. Hindi naman kita mahal. Pero gusto kong gawin iyon. Gusto kitang lambingin. Siguro kasi yun ang hinahanap ko ngayon. Yun ang kailangan ko.

Maya-maya nagtalo tayo. Tungkol sa kung bakit mas qualified pa sa mga trabaho ang mga may college degrees kesa sa mga taong mas may experience. Medyo naging mainit ang diskusyon kaya napabangon ako. Umupo ako sa iyo, habang nakahiga ka at doon ako nagpaliwanag kung bakit dapat ganun ang sistema. Parang wrestling lang ang posisyon natin. Para ding mag-asawa. Alam ko, hindi ka sanay dun. Pero wala eh. Pasko. Malamig.

Dalawang oras na pala tayong nag-uusap nang hindi ko namamalayan at nag-ring na yung telepono. Twenty minutes na lang daw, sabi ng receptionist.

"Naku, tara na," sabi mo, sabay hablot sa akin.

"Ayoko nang nagmamadali," sabi ko.

"Sayang yung bayad."

"Okay lang."

"Sayang."

Pero tinawagan ko pa din ang receptionist at sinabing mag-eextend tayo. Kung puwede nga lang, huwag na natin gawin kasi masaya na naman ako sa lambingan natin. Pero wala eh. Ang hot mo kasi.

***

 "Baka usisain ako ng nanay mo," tanong mo habang magkatabi tayo sa jeep papunta sa amin. Di ko alam talaga kung bakit ba kita inimbitahan para uminom sa bahay. Medyo awkward kasi iyon. Well, sabi mo nga, wala ka din namang kasama sa Pasko. Malulungkot ka lang. Malulungkot lang tayo pareho.

"Hindi," sagot ko. "Nag-text na ako sa nanay ko. Sabi ko huwag siya matanong kasi hindi naman kita boyfriend."

"Wala akong cap. Hindi ako sanay na wala akong cap. Lalo na kapag lumalabas," sabay hagod sa maikli mong buhok.

"Okay naman ah," sabi ko. Pero natuwa ako nang kaunti at nag-alala ka sa itsura mo. Kinabahan ka ba sa nanay ko?

***

Ikaw ang nag-timpla ng iinumin natin. Ikaw kasi nakaka-alam nun. Lime. Sprite. At gin. Wala nga lang yelo kahit saan dahil naubos na ng iba ding mga iinom ngayong Christmas Eve.

Inom. Yosi. Maya-maya namumula ka na. Humingi ka ng contact lens solution kasi nagiging grainy na yung suot mo.

Nakikinig lang ako sa iyo. Kasi, kapag kinukuwento mo yung lahat ng napagdaanan mo, nababalewala ang buhay ko. Ang dami mo nang naranasan. Kung saan-saan ka na napunta. Lahat ng mga isyu ko sa buhay ngayon, nagiging trivial kapag ikaw na ang nagsasalita. Hindi lang problema ko. Lahat ng mga problema namin as a batch, nagiging pawang mga kaartehan lang.

Akala ko dati, sa mga mas matatalino lang sa akin ako mai-impress. Dun sa mga mas malawak ang pag-iisip. Dun sa mga kayang gumawa ng mga bagay na hindi ko kaya. Hindi ko akalain na meron din palang mga kagaya mo na iba ang liga, pero deserving din ng paghanga ko.

Minsan, habang nagsasalita ka, gusto ko sanang hawakan ang kamay mo. Lalo na kasi minsan alam ko naiiyak ka na. Lalo na kapag nagkukuwento ka sa pamilya mo. Kung paanong nakikita mo silang lahat na masaya sa Facebook. Masasaya na sa kani-kanilang pamilya. Tapos ikaw na naipit sa gitna, wala nang nag-aalala. Leche pati nga ako naiiyak. Kaso hindi naman kita malapitan masyado. Kasi friends nga tayo. Friends lang.

Pero may mga pahaging ka pa rin na mga salitang binibitawan. Mga "what if" na sitwasyon. Mga sinasabi mong hindi ka naman naghahanap ng boyfriend ngayon pero hindi naman ibig sabihin noon sarado na ang puso mo. Mga sinasabi mong minsan nakakatuwa ang tadhana kasi may iba-ibang klase kang taong makakasalamuha tapos baka yung iba dun, siya na pala yung hinahanap mo. Mga sinasabi mong sa sitwasyon natin wala naman kasing nag-iinitiate ng papunta sa relationships pero kung meron lang sana.

At sa totoo lang, gusto ko nang patulan yung mga hirit mong iyon lalo na dahil lasing ka naman so baka di mo rin masyado maalala. Pero kasi, alam ko, na ang kailangan mo ngayon ay iyong makakatulong sa iyo. At hindi ako iyon ngayon. Kasi sarili ko nga, hindi ko maayos. Paano pa kaya ang ibang tao? Gusto ko sana subukan pero hindi ako sigurado kung kaya ko ba.

Tsaka kasi wala ka na ring tiwala. Kasi lahat ng mga lalaking na-meet mo, habol lang sa iyo katawan mo. Lahat ng pakikipag-kaibigan, puro sex lang sa huli. At sadly, ganun din tingin mo sa akin. Hindi ko tuluyang ma-deny. Ang hot mo kasi. Pero alam ko na kaya kong wala. Kasi may nakikita ako sa iyo na hindi nakikita ng iba.

"Hindi naman ako nagkukuwento sa iba eh," sabi mo. "Hindi ako ganito. May isa din dati. Kaso wala na siya ngayon."

"Wala ka bang mga kaibigan?"

"Wala na. Kasi palipat-lipat nga ako. Tsaka dati yung bestfriend ko, sinulot yung boyfriend ko. So wala na akong bestfriend-bestfriend ngayon."

"Alam mo, ang malas mo. Ang malas mo sa lahat ng mga taong nakilala mo."

"Kaya ako, alam ko na iyan. Marami na akong alam tungkol sa mga tao. Sex lang habol nila."

"Huwag mong lahatin."

"Laging may kapalit iyan."

"Hindi ba pwedeng may mabait lang talaga? Tingnan mo ako, ilang beses na din naman akong ginamit at niloko ha."

"Hindi ka ba natatauhan? Masyado ka kasing nagtitiwala. Ako, dinala mo ako dito sa bahay niyo. Paano kung masamang tao pala ako? Dapat hindi ka ganun."

Kumunot ang noo ko. Kasi may point ka. Tama ka.

"Ayoko kasing sumuko," sabi ko.

"Saan?"

"Siguro kung sa iyo, ang tingin mo sa akin hindi natututo. Pero pwede mo din namang tingnan na hindi din ako sumusuko."

At for once, napangiti kita.

***

Inayos mo ang iyong mga gamit at tumayo ka na para umalis.

"Ihahatid mo ba ako?"

"Oo."

"So pano," tanong mo habang tumigil ka sa may pinto.

Niyakap na lang kita. Ang gulo kasi ng sitwasyon natin. Marami sana akong gustong sabihin. Maraming gustong linawin. Pero hindi pa panahon. Sa ngayon, friends tayo. Friends lang.

"Merry Christmas."

The Scientist

I think that almost all of us, back when we were younger, were asked this question at least once in our lives:

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Doctors. Lawyers. Teachers. Engineers. These are the most common answers. But me, I always had one solid answer. No seconds wasted for thinking. No time spent on dithering. Just one straight solid answer:

"Scientist."

***

I had always been good at the physical sciences. I was one of those who were born curious. I asked many questions. And science delivered the answers. It satisfied my natural curiosity. And back then, though I had only the vaguest image of a man wearing glasses and lab coat, holding a flask and mixing chemicals, I already knew I wanted to be one.

High school came. Then college. And my answer never wavered. I still wanted to be a scientist. That was why chemistry was my first choice. I never really wanted to be a chemist per se. I just wanted to be a scientist, and chemistry was my highest science grade at the time I was filling up the UP forms.

Then grad school came. And then my resolve began to fluctuate. At times I held on. Other times, I began to be disinterested. Slowly, that feeling grew. Until I began to abhor being a scientist altogether.

Of course, this change of heart wasn't really caused by grad school alone. I think most of it was due to the philosophical revolution I was going through at that time. But sadly, though, what pushed me to jump off this boat altogether was the scientists themselves who I encountered.

Now I'm not saying they're bad people. Not at all. They're actually great people. Awesome, even. And I look up to them because of their brilliance and discipline. I just don't like how they were too focused about their work, if you know what I mean. Too focused that some of them tend to forget to develop their other aspects. They're awesome in their own fields, but from what I've seen, they are also quite imbalanced.

I mean, some of them haven't had enough of feeding their egos. Some of them do it only for the praise. Some of them do it only for the prestige. And some of them don't like fun at all. And worse, they tend to extend that mindframe to others and expect them to not have fun too. I just thought that, being familiar with the scientific method, they, of all people, should be open-minded. But some of them weren't. The gap between what I expected from them and how they are in real life somehow dims my awe of these people.

Now I don't think some of these unwanted effects can be helped. And I think I understand a bit of that transformative process myself since I was under it for almost a decade. The extravagant expectations, the never-ending pressures and deadlines in this field... They do take their toll in one's psyche. Perhaps I was simply surrounded by the wrong types of scientists. Perhaps.

Some people are telling me that I simply lack the discipline to be a scientist. And I'm not denying that. It's true. I think that if brainpower was the only requirement, I could have muddled through that somehow. But I'm a slacker. I'm one of the worst there is. But even if I were to discipline myself and make it as a scientist, I still wouldn't be happy with what I've become. I'd be a failure as a scientist. I'm sure of it. Since I'd be too distracted with life.

If I were a scientist I think I'd spend more time looking out of the lab windows. I'd be looking outside at the people. At the sky. At the trees. And that simply wouldn't do. So I'm letting it go. I have to let it go. This childhood dream proved to be not for me.

Sometimes I do wonder why I had to go all rebellious during my grad school years. Sometimes I wish I never questioned the things they were demanding from me. Sometimes I wish I never doubted my own drives and simply followed everything blindly. I'm sure, that if only I behaved myself a little I'd have more progress in this field. But questioning myself and everyone was the scientific thing to do. I cannot be a scientist, but that does not mean that I couldn't be scientific, right?

It's funny that when I was younger, I had a ready answer to the question: "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Now that I'm older, I find that, strangely, it's one of the most difficult questions that I have to answer.

And if you ask me that question now, reader, my answer would be:

"I don't know."

Inches

It was one of those nights, you know. When you're in some random queen-sized bed, in some random room, in some random sleazy hotel, and some random guy has just left. There had been the most awkward silence after. And it seemed like hours before he finally decided that he should probably leave. He said something was wrong with you. He asked you when was the last time you did this. And you lied and said the last time was two years ago. Although it was really only a few weeks since. And the guy did not question you because you were so bad at it that it was believable.

You extended your arm across that empty space in the bed, wondering what has happened to you. The other guys before, they said you were good at this. Extremely good even, that they did not want to lose you even if they never wanted to get serious with you. So good then. But now something has broken and you... you're left caressing that empty space on that vast bed. Feeling it. Stroking it. Caressing it, and hoping there was someone warm there. Not just any random guy. Someone warm.

And in your head, you run through all the guys you've slept with. Those you can remember. And you realize that it wasn't really them who were cold. It was you. And try as you might, you just don't feel that warmth you used to feel before. You know this, but you can't do anything about it.

So you... You just lay there, hoping that you'll feel a bit more lonely so the scene would be perfect. But nope. That's beyond you now. You're just lying there. Cold. And broken. Unromantic.