THIS IS THE SOUND OF SETTLING.

People are peculiar and complex. Does that not sound familiar, coming from me?

From Phoenix to Santa Barbara, I sat by a man named Tony on the plane who grew up in Orlando, surfing with Kelly Slater, who was only a small boy, while they shared swells. After he was burnt out and too old to professionally surf, he cut hair for the next decade, and now works making customized parts for airplanes, which makes very good money. He told me absurd stories, with enthusiasm and zeal, about flying airplanes with college girls, fishing in the river in Illinois, how he became alcohol free, and his friend Bruce dating Kelly's mom. And I wondered how happy and content he really was, this old washed- up man, still single, sleeve tattoos on both arms, wearing a baggy jersey, and one of those hats with the stiff bill and gold sticker. He talked about his plans for the evening of the 4th, meeting up with a "totally hot chick who [he] couldn't believe would actually go out with him", riding bikes down to the pier to watch the fireworks. And I realized he was one of the warmest and most unpretentious people I've encountered in quite awhile, a shining example that life doesn't end, like I feared, when we finish college and start our first 9 - 5's, or after we've turned 30. That as long as we're willing to try it, we're never really confined.

When I came home, some friends from Loma Linda drove up to visit, and we went downtown to SLO, got frozen yogurt, perused the book store, and then went back to Pismo and played childish games in the arcade, and watched break dancers by the pier, before going to Amy's for a barbeque, and watching the fireworks from Dinosaur Park.

Three boys came up, who are living together in Mountain View. We're so different, but their company is still appreciated. They listen to metal, argue progressive literature, and are extremely negative and vainglorious. But I appreciate that they value independent thinking, intellect, and cultivation. And that their arguments and arrogance are merited, in that they've took the time to explore them each their own. One of them is one of my oldest friends from growing up, always outlandish and extreme, and has always been one of the most creative and intelligent people I know. I feel sad that he talks fondly and often about the escape of lust and consumption. And I wish he was still the boy I once knew, who thought I was wonderful, and everything, and I wanted to marry.

They dropped me off before midnight, shrugging nonchalantly when I asked them to drop me home before they went to the party. While I think I am more liberal in thought that action, like I have no problem with the idea of alcohol, if consumed legally and responsibly, yet the idea of drinking it myself, has never appealed to me. And so many things I would like to have no problems with, make me extremely uncomfortable, and ill-at-ease, and very reluctant to take the risk on.

The idea of settling scares me much more than most things when contemplating the future, and even though I am young, and don't know quite who I am, it makes me feel ever so despondent, still not knowing, even who I want to be.