It's comforting to be back. Summer is ending. There is a special quality about summer holidays that I can't quite describe it properly without making phallic references. Long, hot, sweaty. Summer is a penis in its finest glory. Long days. Hot weather. The sun that could burn off your skin. Everlasting sweat. My forehead shines like the exoskeleton of a black beetle.

I try my best. With great hopes, it is useless without discipline. That, I lack severely. I hope to repay it with time. Summer is discovery. Or re-discovery? How can you rediscover something that you have already uncovered or perhaps you have known all along that there is no end for it is a circular path which sometimes meanders with zigzag patterns leading to a top with no beginning.

It is nice to be back. Summer consists of thinking, overthinking and underthinking. Summer is about doing, not doing, doing something, doing nothing. Summer is ending. I tried my best.