CXXIII. Dr. House is My Homeboy -

Years ago, when I had taken to the T.V. Drama House, M.D., a certain episode really stuck with me.

In that episode, a patient, a man, falls in and out of consciousness, among suffering from other symptoms, and is subsequently hospitalized. He was treated by either the fictional House or his fictional residents - I forgot who.

Regardless, inevitably at the end of the episode, when a diagnosis is made for the patient, House finds a bottle of cough syrup among the patient’s belongings. The patient was ingesting cough syrup like it was no tomorrow because, quite simply put, he was a genius.

The man was a genius. He had an I.Q. that made him occupy a plane of existence above or below, but not on equal ground, with the 99% of human beings he shared his surroundings with.

This lapse in understanding between him and the majority of the world’s people made it particularly hard for him to retain any type of relationship. As with all things human and yet so unrealistic, at least in my case, he fell in love. The person whom he fell in love with, obviously occupied a rung a far way’s down on the I.Q. ladder from the man who she too fell in love with.

In order for the man to be content in his relationship, without lashing out at his significant other’s lack of prodigal intelligence, he decided to dumb himself down.
A chemical in cough syrup, if overdosed on, could cause your brain cells to die, thereby making you more base and dense.

Dr. House, a genius in his own right, felt for the man.

And I felt for Dr. House.

Today is the first day of classes at my undergraduate alma mater. I am officially one full year out of college and it was not until the past couple of weeks that I felt a tingly sensation that characterizes having missed something; Think homesickness.

As all of my acquaintances, friends, and people who overheard me on the phone while walking down Locust Walk know, I was overjoyed at having finally graduated and moved on and away from college.

I am not about to romanticize the image of campus, with its twinkling fairy lights hanging eerily and magically above the tree tops during the holiday season, although I suppose I just did -
Rather, I am about to tell you all how and why I felt for Dr. House.

I live at home, as I should since I am not in graduate school nor do I have a solid, high-income job.
I am pursuing multiple projects, unpaid internships, and freelancing without pay, in order to build up a repertoire of rare skill sets and journalistic clips. I’m doing all of this so I can bag an education and eventually a career that does not come easily otherwise.
That’s the plan anyway.

I want the people around me to peer-edit my articles.
I want them to hear of my big plans so that they can provide solid feedback.
I want them to hear of my struggle that is somewhat my fault but mostly is the fault of the world.
I want them to hear me air grievances about the impoverished and the other worldly injustices that occupy my thoughts after having read an article/novel, or watched a documentary.

Instead, I receive words of encouragement, which is all fine and well, however, I also bear the brunt of questions I have already answered.

As if I am speaking a different language, listeners seemed to not have been listening at all. Instead, they’re just free-floating bodies situated in front of me. They are sounding boards that do nothing but echo back once in a while because that is as far as the absorption process of what I am saying, goes.

While I was on campus, this wasn’t the case. Disagreements were here - in recitation, there - in the living room of my senior year suite, and everywhere else.

In this case, on campus, few or no one cared for me or anyone else, quite frankly.
Words of niceties and compliments were far and few between.
Encouragement was self-contrived only -  a compounded interest of sorts, derived from the competitive environment.

Despite being less forgiving, the campus environment was more balanced.

Still, I have honestly never been more motivated than now. Since returning home after graduation, its been a race. It’s been a race to change career paths, gain knowledge, legitimacy, respect, a possible husband (still no luck).

No matter what, I won’t change myself like that patient did in the House M.D. episode.

I’ll make the people around me understand with the future successes I am working towards.