when_they_rely_on_living this_should_be_rillian many of us were there from the time when all morning had to give was shadows. pacific beach, san diego. pb, they call it. she lay like a silent jewel on the finger of a comfortable god. all day the sun sang on her ocean and everyone made up their own lyrics. i would spend all afternoon writing monet_on_bartlett at the mission coffee shoppe while a perpetual parade of locals and tourists worshipped the unbelievably warm weather. many more gathered to watch the sea swallow the light, one momentous slip and it was gone. everyone stood there and just clapped at the performance. 040124 what's it to you? who go blather from