It takes a lot to make me feel alone. For instance, I have been watching movies by myself for many, many years and I have never felt alone—it’s sometimes just too cumbersome organizing a common time, which is not to say that I don’t find watching in groups highly enjoyable, particularly movies that are extremely boring. Case in point, Harry Potter. Saw this on its opening night with TT and others, and ten minutes into the movie I was texting and checking my watch incessantly. “Nabasa ko na sana ang aplastic anemia by this time,” TT harrumphed. “Teka, yan ba si Gandalf?” he then said when Dumbledore appeared.

I also go on toy, book, and comic book rounds alone—it’s just faster, not to mention that I have very few friends who are interested in finding out how Dick Grayson does as the new Batman. I have no issue at all eating by myself—I’ve been recently finding out that eating is a task that should be done with quickly, much like going to the bathroom. In the spirit of whining let me just add: I haven’t been enjoying food the past few weeks. If it were not for the cancer-like abdominal pain after not eating for ten hours I wouldn’t touch food. And no, I don’t have some para-masturbatory construct dissociation or crap, I just don’t feel like eating most of the time.

Last Friday night I woke up at 8 pm extremely parched and sweaty, sweat pooling on my philtrum and other nether regions, much to your disgust. I ran to the nearest 7-11, and realized that I want to drink… beer. I hate the taste of alcohol, I drink around twice a year during the obligatory batch outings, but for this particular night drinking one can of beer sounded just right. So I opened the store fridge and as I touched the beer I felt… alone. I don’t know, I just felt a wave of melancholy hit me on the face along with the cold fridge air–and I totally hate melancholy, it’s just too time-consuming being melancholy. Of course I could text message some friend to accompany me, but I was too lazy to do so. So I unhanded the blasted beer and bought Coke instead. I then went back to my room, flipped open a bunch of comic books, and read for hours on end in extreme pleasure, drinking soda supine, testing if it would really cause me to aspirate.

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