Maybe I’ll never be cool; not like those other kids, to whom the quality of being cool comes so easily. It is as if some people are born to be cool and others not. I always ask myself what it is about them that is lacking in me, or what is present in me that keeps me from becoming cool. And I seem to find no answer. Or maybe I’m not making the effort to become cool. But surely, it cannot be too tiring an endeavor, since those cool people are always so able to look cool without appearing jaded, as if being in a skin that made them uncomfortable. Now, it’s not that I particularly care about being cool, but only that it’s something I’ve noticed, a phenomena that intrigues me as much as it had initially frustrated me. Yes, once, I wanted to be cool, like a kid wanting of attention. Then, I realized that there is something, an invisible force of nature, keeping me from ever becoming cool; and so I stopped pining. I concede to living as a uncool person, and also that there should be nothing wrong in living that way. But as it is, I’ll never be cool. Those cool people will continue to attract themselves to each other, and the uncool people will get so tired looking at them being cool that they will disperse into the wilderness.