One more shot at getting it together.

It's rinse and repeat everyone.
And I'm getting tired of it.

Actually, I think I'm getting tired of everyone in general. Not individuals, but the noise, the chatter, the uninvited cacophony of opinions and messages crashing into me on a daily basis. It's not healthy. I don't need the extra noise. I feel crushed already by a huge city and the stampede of idiots who inhabit it with me. A bit of room, and a bit of respect, okay everyone. Back off. I can tell when I need sleep and when I crave more sleep.

Having said that, I watched 'Into The Wild' the other night and was profoundly saddened by the film and the true story it sprang from.
So rejecting modernity and escaping to Alaska didn't quite provide the ready fix either. It was beautiful and thoughtful, gorgeous and yet at heart depressing - but that's me channelling the film - I so crave more positive endings now.
It was not a good sleep afterwards.

Is it me, or are apocalyptic/end of civilisation films (in whatever form - it's a big generalisation) on the rise?

No wonder we want to escape (.....and I'm back at Into The Wild again. It was interesting, but a loud voice in my head said - yeah, possible if you are a guy - the physical dangers for women are horribly restrictive to allow the same adventures.)
The romantic wild, conquering/existing the wilderness, a distant uninhibited life in solitude and ready peace - an interesting achievement for men, and an amazing feat for us ladies.

I always think of my lecturer at university discussing colonial art in Australia, and the depictions of women and children (a gender and 'innocents' double billing) - the wild untamed frontier to the US was emblematic of the new, the future, riches, fortune, optimism, just over that horizon. Go get it, pioneers! Australia, now weirdly celebrating a fiction that we all live in the outback (!! idiotic ad campaigns gone viral), was always coded as don't go beyond the civilised path: out there is death, desolation, starvation, fools gold, loss and being lost, bleakness and despair. And the ladies in these colonial paintings are always shown weather beaten and frail in Victorian white linens, carried out on stretchers during a crisis, searching for a lost child in the bush, fleeing bushfire and flood. Children are always blurry and in transition to another world (read as dead if you like).

Good times for all in the Land of Oz.