I walk out of Tristan and Isolde this evening as always after such a film- longing. And, for once, that utterance is not on behalf of the hopeless romantic but rather on that of the aspiring cinematographer, and the historian (perhaps historiographer). The scenery was lovely, the acting true. Why why WHY am I alive in a century in which my voice has to carry the sullied tarnish of the everyday accent, devoid of an Irish lilt or Britton's monotonous beauty? Why is it that the days of multiple-foot-long braids of golden hair are over? And seriousness, what of that? What of sitting alone, watching the sea- or stars, for that matter. I loathe the restraint. Freedom is never quite achieved for someone who longs to be not somewhere else, but somewhen else. Why is it that everything must be roared about with laughter instead of golden, companiable silence, or those few dramatic words that ring with great power. Why is it that one can escape from that for only a few hours at a time, not even alone, and only vicariously at best? It is like a burning rope, and every grasp that takes hold upon it is temporary, for the fire spires upward, inevitable. I wish it were otherwise, but it remains a selfish want, and an obviously unattainable one. Those times of princes, chariots, and fair maidens locked in towers are far over, and surely glorified- what we see as such Medieval times most likely never had such crushing elegance.

*shakes head* Coming back to the present, I started Angels and Demons today, which was a foolish thing to do because my mind, naturally, is fixed upon it and nothing else (inconvenient, considering there's packing, studying, and dancing about arguments to be done). It's brilliant so far, and I am happy to add ambigrams to my lofty "gram" list. At least puns are still about, though scoffed at. Of course a gram list would be lofty....unless it was, of course, a whole other type of gram :). Anagrams will most likely continue to top that list, however, for my talent with ambigrams is sure to be insignificantly small (though I will, of course, try my hand at it, for resistance to that is futile).

I leave for campus again tomorrow- exile ended, and the weights upon my brow cease to exist for another short while. It is cause for excitement, personally, for the tension in this household is reaching an unbearable height, and I find myself most anxious to run away from it. Cowardly, yes; but necessary, also yes. I haven't the weaponry needed to fight it, so I run.

I can't see any stars tonight. It's disconcerting me championly. Where are they?