You may call it gloomy, or you may call it romantic, and if you are a Romantic, you find in your musings as you wander along the hilly green, that it is precisely its gloominess that makes it romantic (and sublime, naturally).
I call it "learning to admire a view," for it is only when that drearily romantic fog rolls in and covers all of Los Angeles that I realize what a beautiful view it really is.
And in this way, we all learn to admire those "views" in our lives only when they cannot be seen. We carry on like lemmings in our busy lives, not even flinching as we fall over the precipice, simply because others before us have done so, and failed to flinch, failed to thrash, failed to question.
What would happen, then, if we all learned to admire a view, before the fog rolled in?
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