I). My Car: On this day on which I have seemed to demand of myself no less than three posts, the only other thing that I can think of to write about would be my car, which I will not even here go into great detail about. Rather, let it suffice to say that it is among the fanciest, nicest and most luxurious, opulent and plush of all the cars I have ever owned and I have owned a Cadillac and a Lincoln, among others, so you can see how plush the plushness of this particular car-in which I, punnily enough, have yet to hear the STP song "Plush", a favorite of mine of theirs-truly is. Yet, though the wine-colored hue and tone of my car and it's upholstery is a fine and fair and fit story, it is a probably boring one, and one that I will not go into here...though it is an observation and a truth of mine that, with the possible exception of one or both of my very first cars, every car I have yet owned has had at least a tiny portion of wood-paneling in the interior, which I, if only for the very homeyness that it imparts, love and enjoy and admire. It is not just the homeyness, but also the opulence and the tranquility, and the beauty and especially the anachronism and the respect and homage to the things of yesteryear that I appreciate and revel in in these cars.
II). Weather Report and Meteorological/Locational/Sentimental/Observational Desires, etc: Yet, let us now, for here within I am the supreme maker and controller and observer of all things, and I need not feel ever helpless, oppressed and/or hopeless (as I sometimes do elsewhere in my life where other people, institutions, groups, businesses or things have-or seem to-all the power and control and do not exert it kindly nor in a remotely just or humane manner...or so it seems)....withal, let us now turn to the weather report: Outside the window, from which I am viewing all this, the field is niveous and piled with snow, from the whitish-grey sky cascades the muting flakes. I say "muting" for, as any of you may have noticed, the snow, in falling upon the ground, has a hushing, blanketing, muting effect, thus shutting off or dampening most ambient sound. And, all this reminds me that I would very much like to go to Kittery, land of my childhood and 75% of my schooling, and see what the snow is like, especially at night, and especially in the most urban, littoral and cluttered sections of it, like around the portion called "Kittery Foreside" which surely some amateurish and painfully immature, sex-obsessed waggish teenagers no doubt, at some time in history, dubbed "Kittery Foreskin" which of course makes no sense. Yet I would very much like to see what that sight would be like.
III). Hoped-for Sojourns to Past Places-Peregrinational Wishes/Hopes/Goals/Desires: And, finally, if I must put forth my hopes and dreams and wishes and desires and peregrinational goals, then let me say this: One, I would like to return to Funtown, in Saco, Maine, to which I have not been since June 1997, thus it has been about sixteen years since last I was there, though for the past two or three years I have wished to return there. And, two, I would very much like to; perhaps in the same year, the same month, hell even the same week, though I doubt the same day is possible, though that would be neat, too; return to Bear Brook State Park, located roughly around Allenstown, New Hampshire, where I, in June 1996 (seventeen years ago) went for a seventh-grade fieldtrip, and at which I and most of the whole of the seventh grade camped for three days and two nights and it was quite a time and a place...and I occasionally miss it.
iv). The Summing-Up of All Things Within: So, there you have it, in three sections: My car, the weather/meteorological desires vis a vis Kittery and Kittery Point, Maine; and finally, my hoped-for sojourns to past places of pleasure, delight, wonder and fun.
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