There's not much figurative meaning behind that, not yet at least. I'm not trying to be creative - such inspiration would normally come from these late-night musings - but I live atop one of the highest points in San Diego County. Having an actual number would do this post justice, but alas my motivation for typing within the Google toolbar escapes me at 10 pm PST.
I dreamed of leaving Long Island for such an apex. When I finally ascended to my throne, I was apparently destined to nestle inside a 660 square-foot apartment surrounded by natural beauty and have maybe 15 minutes per day to enjoy it during a 13-hour grind.
Manifest Destiny never entered my mind as being anymore significant than an essay question on an eighth-grade social studies test. I never took it to mean finding your personal and vocational calling. I never took it as leaving behind friends and family to do so despite your deep connections to them. I never realized how they would understand the rash decision; I realize how thankful I am that they know me so well.
With West Coast writers picketing for more pay, it would seem in poor literary taste for me to attempt to compare my first gaze of the Pacific Ocean to anything remotely campy or cheesy. Let me just say that you put things into perspective when gazing into tranquil, artistic nothingness. It's a salty epiphany.
For now, I leave you with these thoughts and the view I see each morning as I trudge to work. The visual feast in the distance would bring Tantalus to his knees.
