The Beatles. Blackbird. Today is August first. Most of the summer months are behind us. Here we are already in August. School is only one month away. It’s passing so fast, and it’s been really good.

The month of August is like a Sunday. You already start feeling depressed and nostalgic because you know that the end is near. Don’t get me wrong. I like school, and from a masochistic perspective, I do indeed miss the work, the pressure, the feeling of accomplishment, the camaderie with my study mates. During the year we work until the wee hours of the morning, we buy each other coffee, we get distracted when we are too bored to study. It’s a fun life. But the summer, it’s just well the summer. From the time when we were but infants the notion has been ingrained in our minds. Some of us may have full time jobs with only two weeks vacation per year, but no matter what, when summer comes, one can’t help but feel excited if not only because of a psychological imprint made over several years of childhood. Frank Zappa, Bobby brown.

I am 24 years of age, and this year I pulled a summer a la classique teenager. I worked some jobs, but more than anything I took it easy. I joined some activities, I traveled a bit, played lots of games, worked out, did lots of self improvement. It’s been the best summer in a long time. Perhaps the best one of my life with the exception of the ones where I was seeing people. Nirvana, Rape Me. I have accomplished much. I am in shape, I feel good aboot myself, I’ve made some new friends, I’ve taken some large steps in dealing with a reoccurring depressive problem of mine, I’ve made peace with some people I’ve been at war with for a long time, I’ve moved apartments even though it’s still a mess, I’ve managed to keep my plants alive. Garbage, track three on the first album. On the other hand, I did not manage certain personal goals. Stuff only happens when you actively stop going for it. I am obsessive. Anywho there is still some time left. I am ranting aimlessly. Ohh well.

Yesterday I helped a friend by association move. It rained all day and I was wet. Long term ickyness is somewhat annoying after a time. Afterwards the Minister of the Interior and I went for a swim at Li’s place. Gun’s and Roses, Paradise City. After a healthy soak in chlorine with a twist of water, I exited feeling very chlorinated. I don’t know which feeling I prefer. Nevertheless I was able to perform at the bowling alley. Bowling, like poker, is fun when you are with people who dish out the trash-talk. I like trash-talk. Trash-talk likes me. It gets ride of stress. I am not stressed.
I am not satisfied. I have four weeks left… No five. I need to do something else. There is so much more I need to accomplish before I become a slave to my studies again. I have things to do. People to meet. Needs to meet. I need more time. Dammit! I will now proofread and edit this rant….. Nirvana, Come as You Are…. Cake, Frank Sinatra. Grease, Greased Lightning.