He says there's art in my veins. He's the only one who supports the dream I never admitted to have, the only one who believes I'm going to be good. He believes I must show the world it's own reflection, it's own beauty. He believes in me.

I'm tired, haven't drawn anything lately, haven't touched my tablet in months, everything I've done is doodling on the back of my notepad, while waiting for a centrifuge to complete it's cycle, an agarose gel to run, some cells to grow... I like what I'm doing now, I really do, I'm happy in college, I really like my friends there, we're a little group but we're united. We have fun. A bunch of geeks having a lot of fun.

But I can't stop thinking, is that it?? Or am I going to spend the rest of my life wishing I could go back and do something else? Something that includes the art in my veins.

Yesterday I avoided suicide, now I'm looking for a path that we can both follow.

PS. My friends have been killing rats lately. It's really impressive how in the name of science we become animals. Violent animals.