I miss academe.
I miss the kind of conversation that does not have to include love life or sex life or gender preferences of anyone in order to make it satisfying.
I miss coffee and coffee shops and pasta. I miss the trading of ideas, the heated exchanges, and the capability of the actors not to take any of these personally.
I miss how we can still interact — free from subjectivisms and reservations — after we have dismembered our theoretical foundations.
I miss how, on the ruins of it, we construct a socially relevant and revolutionary one.
I miss how we can actually do all these over and over and over — without secretly despising each other.
I miss the freedom to voice out criticisms and I miss those who can take criticisms constructively.
I miss those who are humble enough to recognize their limitations, those who understand their regular need for improvement.
I miss those who have the courage to admit their mistakes and those who possess the strength to rectify their errors.
I miss the skills and the maturity to handle all these without resorting to personal and groundless attacks — the amount of money on your bank account, hasty diagnosis of your loneliness, callous conclusion about your character.
I miss the sense of accomplishment.
I miss the certainty that you can lay your weaknesses at your weakest days, when you can no longer hold your pieces together. And I miss the confidence that you can do it with an assurance that whoever sees this not-so-lovable-part-of-your-soul will never hold it against you.
I miss this niche.
I am so exhausted.
And I miss
not feeling exhausted