The pathetic fallacy, or simply a yearning for the scenic outdoors?

I miss the Muir Beach Overlook . Been perusing Susan Sontag's short stories, and I don't know whether it is her style of writing that I don't care for (IMHO, she's a prime example of how NOT to write a long sentence: think of "Gilmore Girls" on the printed page), or I finally shifted into a wistful mood after this storm of anger, but I do miss Muir Beach Overlook. On a good day, you can see forever--which is much to say considering that I find it difficult to peer more than a few step ahead in my emotional life. There is something special about cavorting amongst the abandoned ruins of military fortifications in that area: it seems incongruous to touch and be amongst the remnants of such massive engines of destruction, set amidst such breathtaking geography. Maybe that is why people keep returning to memories of failed loves: to be lost for a bittersweet moment, wandering amidst the scenery of what may have been, and the ruins of what actually was. Do you look at a ruin and wish it somehow turned out differently? Or do you simply appreciate it in its lonely, poignant grandeur, and hurry on?

Someone opined that it is more like repeatedly picking a scab; having it bleed, heal, repeat. Repeat. As I am getting dinner (yes, at 12:23 AM) in a few minutes, I am not going to venture in this tagent.

3:30 AM:
So I finally completed the readings (due for 9:55 AM). The chat with Eve (always fascinating) took a chunk of the time, but I did catch 2 hours of sleep during the afternoon. Take it from me: afternoon naps are evil. Don't do it. Through the course of the conversation, I was surprised I recalled such a wealth of detail of my childhood memories with Eve's bf, Mr. E. You see, Mr. E and I had loads of fun on the sunny tropical island of Singapore; some of which included catching spiders, setting the lower parts of the playground slide on fire with pure alcohol (so that it burns with an invisible flame... There are other playground users--use your imagination here), getting free drinks by plucking coconuts, concocting and hurling our first Molotov Cocktails, opening the sewer cover and setting his elder brother's turd on fire... etc. I guess it is true after all, one can never forget where one grew up. I do not miss the humidity though.

Just came to the realization that Eve and Mr. E share the same letter in their first names. Cute.

Anyways, in the course of the conversation, I was led to another blog : I thought it was rather cute, with its bubble-gum pop type pictures, pink background, flower motifs and such. The gratuitous use of obscenities, with ever more colorful descriptions of sexual couplings with the target's mother, was refreshing. More importantly, it made me feel old. I must admit that this prematurely-old geezer here prefers blogs more like these . I also enjoy Moby's journal .

I miss her.
It is rather frightening how anger can cloud other feelings, or other areas of our lives. I have been so angry the past 48 hours over the perceived injustice (see 5/3/05) that I did not even realize that the weekend is almost here, and, unknowingly missing her so much (in my subconscious), I had hardly chatted with her, or made plans for this weekend. Doh!

For AD&D, etc. fans only:

ChapelPaige: Oh tell me why, do we build castles in the sky?
@Apoc: to make them harder to assault
ChapelPaige: ...good point.
@Apoc Lets: see you get a trebuchet up here, bitch

4 AM now. Time for bed.