Summer, Sex, and Self-Immolation

[Warning: Not for children.]

Summer came, summer left. Like a steamy, five-minute quickie (you know what I’m talking about), the passing of summer has left me fatigued and short of breath, yet extremely gratified. Though I must apologize for the rather obscene comparison I’ve used, I won’t take it back for a Pulitzer. No other act in the world can offer such a faithful embodiment of my summer experience than a speedy act of making love. Yep, sex and summer are both hot; however, the similarity ends there.

You see, I had two things officially going on these past two months –- my OJT work and STS class. But a closer look reveals that I was actually doing three more off-the-record tasks –- taking charge of UP ACM’s bid for the ACM International Chapter Excellence Award, writing articles for SUMS+UP’s Substance and Simulacra magazine, and planning a better UP Parser for the incoming academic year. Not to mention coming up with my second blog and personal website.

I’m actually surprised I was able to survive summer without falling ill (sue me, but I say this is akin to surviving an ‘encounter’ without suffering from, uh, impotency). Yeah yeah, ‘tis good I got through with it. And I did it with style. (If you’re someone I personally know and you tell me otherwise, I’ll kick your arse.)

So that’s it, it’s over; the fat lady has sung for summer. Two months burned by the Corsarius’ blazing might. Come to think of it, it’s not just a couple of months which went by in this fleeting, blistering fashion –- it has been three years! A trifecta of mindless, drudgery-filled years in a course I simply don’t love.

I didn’t stay in my course to emerge as a world-class computer scientist; I stayed to prove myself. I stayed to prove that I can perform well in one of UP’s toughest courses. As a result, I didn’t just burn away three years of my life. I burned away the potential to become a good journalist, full-fledged writer, or historian –- these are the careers I would’ve liked to have.

In fact, I may have just burned myself.

This minute, even as my mind conjures fantastic analogies between summer and sex, I’ve realized one thing.

I’ve become Corsarius the Self-Immolator.

It’s too late to change courses now. I’m entering my final year in ComSci, I have part-time work at the CS department, I have positions in CS student organizations, I handle the CS publication, and my CS grades are pretty decent just to trash. All of these things have become too important to throw away. If I were to shift, I should’ve done it years ago. So now the only thing I can do is look back at what’s happened, go through the five stages of mourning, and then ponder my next move. A waste of time, isn’t it?

I hope you guys don’t have these same regrets. If you don’t want to have them, plan ahead. Chart your life. Place your hand upon your chest, feel what’s beating inside, and follow that same beat, that strong dub-dub-dub. It’s corny, it’s passé, it’s cliché, but follow your heart's desire.

And if you do have these regrets, come join me. Let us join forces and burn the world with our combined frustrations. Or die trying.

Till next quickie, er, summer then.