I accomplished very little this summer.  I did read quite a bit though, and I think I really got to understand myself much better.  I didn’t set out to “find myself” this summer, but I think I kind of did.  Funny, it usually happens the other way around; someone takes time off to “find himself” and ends up wasting his time.  I waste my time and end up finding myself.  Although if my memory serves me right I was well on my way to intellectual revelation before the summer started, and it stands to reason I would have found myself even if I had a job.  Oh well, I am amazed at how far I’ve made it on the money I earned last summer. 

Now that I realize this summer is nearly over I suddenly don’t want it to end.  What was once an agony of dragging hours spent in jobless shame is now my last scraps of freedom before a semester of hard work.  I need more time to read peacefully on campus, breathing the fresh air of trees and absorbing the warmth of the sun breaking through the leafy canopy.  I need more minutes to waste watching the birds when even reading becomes too taxing.  I feel the urge to buckle down and put in some serious hours on my computer game.  And what about bike riding?  And working out, I am struck periodically by the urge to “get ripped”.  Oh shit, I need to work on that painting too.  OK, tomorrow I work on the game in the morning for at least three hours and I go read on campus in the afternoon.  When I go back to Santa Cruz I’ll try to get two bike rides in. 
'Wasting' time is only enjoyable if one has consoled oneself with the wasting.  Once the consolation occurs wonderful things happen; the mind opens to explore new avenues of creativity.  It would be so cool to save up (or quickly procure) a few thousand dollars and spend a few months exploring Europe.  –Here passes five minutes of wondrous daydreaming-  I now wonder how I could not do this, it sounds like the kind of thing befitting a person such as myself, inquisitive and bold.  All the ‘best’ people seem to be well-traveled and world-wise.  I have few commitments and responsibilities to hold me back; no job, no wife, no mortgage.  

I’ve come to realize that the “rules” of society don’t apply once you realize what they are.  Once one realizes that the social constructs are nothing but opinions taken from an ambiguous collective conscious one has the authority to disobey them.  It takes courage to look beyond the social norms, but once one does so and really, for once, thinks for oneself, there is nothing you can’t do.  The difficulty comes in maintaining my place in society.  It is one thing to shun society and do whatever the hell I please, but it is a bit more difficult to leave the door open so that when I am ready I can come back and find my place.  I risk losing financial security in a job I enjoy.  Was this summer my last opportunity to sneak away without anyone noticing?  I wasn’t ready; I hadn’t come to full realization; it took me the duration of the summer to get here.  I’ve been learning the skills I would need; an appreciation for cultural diversity, the ability to eat (hell exist) as cheaply as possible, the ability to find true significance in everything I see and do.  Although after careful observation, I appear to be right on schedule; despite the fact that there are “child prodigies” I have yet to find evidence in the literary record of a writer who demonstrated the ability to think with a self-awareness beyond my own at my age.  Most brilliant self-awareness seems to just appear around the age of 21. 

I think what I’m feeling is that I am now an adult.  A change has occurred, it has been a feeling that has been gradually growing in me and now I think I know what it is; I am now an adult.  How convenient that this revelation coincides with the confirmation of my first two grey hairs.

I am thankful that I still retain my youthful exuberance.  Now that I have crossed the threshold into adulthood I am guaranteed that I will never lose it. 

I think that Tony the child made a final appearance this summer.  He had been fading away when Patrick returned to my life.  His influence roused the juvenile and I felt myself speaking more excitedly and behaving more recklessly.  I was able to observe this and mutter “tsk tsk” to myself; I was aware that it is possible to be excited without sacrificing class.  Although the child may yet resurface again, I think that the adult has taken the position of dominance; he has a full understanding of what is expected of him and what he can get away with.