So I've decided to come back, again, I think. I toyed around with all the things I wanted to do differently — projects and plans and things of that sort, and maybe, eventually, I'll get to them, but for now, well. I may as well just write.

I'm back at school, making the familiar trips to the bookstore, up and down Locust Walk, across 40th St, seeing the same faces along the way, cutting the same corners here and there. Except there are the obvious changes — the change of address, the different view, the closed establishments (El Diner?! How did that happen?) and the ubiquitous construction. Oh — wait, I said changes. Hah.

And some things feel the same, but a lot of things feel sort of different. I feel like between summer and the rest of the year, I morph myself into different personalities to fit the expectations of people around me. Except I'm not quite sure what those expectations are.

This is all so intangible, I know it doesn't make for good entry material, especially for my first real entry in months. But things have been difficult to deal with lately on a more real level, so you'll have to sit through my philosophical babblings until the more mundane aspects of my life again strike me as something I might construct witty paragraphs about to amuse you, my dear readers.

I'm clicking away at my keyboard at 4:16 in the morning though — so I guess some things are back to the way they were without fail. The lights of South Philadelphia glitter outside my window — punctuated by the somewhat concerning towers of flames that seem to jump up from some factory-like structure out there. Still, there isn't much movement, and even the frat houses on Spruce seem quiet. I'm sure somewhere in the Quad, someone is nervously spending their first night away at college, worried about how they won't quite make the cut — whatever it is.

As much as I've gone on and on about how fast the past year has gone, and it has, some things seem so distant now. Was it really just a year ago? Were we really that young and scrawny? And did I really assume I knew so much about how the world worked? I don't know. I mean, I really don't know about a lot of things, because so much doesn't make sense. And every time something happens that I guess ought to give me a more worldly perspective, a more mature outlook, I end up feeling smaller and even more at a loss.