a conversation with the ceiling

Dear K-

You know I cannot. You know that isn't the way I work, though perhaps some days I wish that I could be that blissfully simple. But rarely do I have that desire, the desire to be the dead-eyed goldfish mindlessly blowing his own reflection kisses as he swaggers aimlessly about his bowl. Day after day, blissful and dull. I do not think I could handle such a life.

The ennui has evaporated, sucked from my flesh to leave me with nothing but frustration and the tingling sensation of impending deadlines. It feels rather strange to be back in the student setting, and more so it feels strange to be a professional student. Sounds pretentious as fuck, doesn't it? I'm actually having to study for classes every day, which is a new and terrible realization, and still I am not sure if I will maintain the pace which is required by these professors. Of course, I'm not the only one being overwhelmed, but sometimes it gets lonely.

I spent six hours in a cafe one night, huddled over a histology text and scribbling notes to myself on a pad of legal paper. By the end, you could hardly see the table top with it's ringed and crescent moon stains for all the tattered canary yellow sheets. Patrons came and went, but still I sat there guzzling bitter black coffee and writing away. It was almost like high school, although instead of being bored and angst-y I am now trying to focus and be productive.

Someday I will have to be addressed as Doctor. But that seems so far away, and for the moment all I feel like doing is disappearing into a foreign country, melting into the morning market on a crowded street in Brno. Or perhaps it does sound appealing, to sit out on a balcony in the dying hours of the day and sip at a glass of wine. Perhaps that is what I want to do.

But I also want to be called Doctor whenever I step into the room.

Doctor Who? Exactly. And this is my assistant, Rose.

And then I'll bow and exit with a quick grin and then I'll slip out into the afternoon and beat my way to the nearest cafe.

This life is lonely, yes. I haven't found anyone that I could say I truly mesh with well. Of course, it isn't like I have a great amount of time to socialize...but I find myself now, more than ever before, really missing the friends and socialization opportunities I held in university. Now it's like I'm starting again from square one. It took me four long years to build up the friends I made in undergraduate, and then I just had to wave them all away and start anew. What's the point? In four more years I'm just going to be moving again and saying goodbye yet another time. This is why I don't get emotional over departures. People are always departing. I am always departing.

Tell me about your day.

At least I can hear the metros growling in the distance from my new apartment,
-K