Dear World,

Last night I finished "The Year of Magical Thinking." Girl26 said it wasn't depressing. It was a good read, but a downer! I mean I feel all depressed now! In the end the author tries to come to terms with the fact that people die, it's a fact of life. In a way, she sees that the world is bigger than our own egos; I would be the first to admit that I'm the type of person who needs to "get over myself," as readers of my blog must have noticed, how I love to wax poetic about my own inner turmoil. But sometimes, in the midst of existential crises, I see what Joan Didion is saying:

"Leis go brown, tectonic plates shift, deep currents move, islands vanish, rooms get forgotten."

And people die. In fact, everyone dies, in the same way that tectonic plates shift, maybe on a different scale, but it's the same darn thing. That's just part of the deal.


[Changing the subject] One time I had a dream I was here. It's not a situation of seeing that pic then dreaming about it, but rather I had that dream first, suspected it was Ireland, and when I google "Ireland" pics, I'm not kidding, this is where I was: