Wanting

[In case I don't get a chance to post any more of Ashes this week, I'm posting something more bite-size and shamelessly prosaic. ShaaaaZAM!]

Wanting
Fire. All fire ever does is want. It wants and it moves and it consumes and, if it stops, it dies. The fire has to keep going, and keep setting other things on fire, until, eventually, it fades, leaving behind only the things it changed. In this, it lives forever.

But the ocean, it seems, is always sleeping. It moves constantly but never goes anywhere; it speaks but never says a thing. What on earth could the ocean ever want?

The truth is that the ocean doesn't want anything on earth.

The ocean wants the moon.

Every moment of its existence, the ceaseless swishing ocean has stretched to reach its faraway dream. To look at it pining, we would think its effort foolish; this sea will never reach far enough to touch the silver surface of our distant alabaster satellite. What we don't realize is that, as the ocean reaches, it changes everything around it--breaking down cliffs, consuming beaches, breaching every breath of wind and weather across the breadth of the earth--without once meaning to.

And, someday, the moon will tumble from its high and holy pedestal and the sea will embrace it, fondly, fully, fiercely, as always they were meant to do.

Seeing this--that fire wants all things, yet the ocean only one--I say it proudly: I am oceanfolk.

Late, Tired, Sore, and Whiny

As I write this sentence, it is 1:33 a.m. I have a sneaky suspicion that I'm very, very, very tired.

First of all, this post is an apology. I missed my deadline last week, leaving all you folks without my gloriously wondrous [cough cough] thoughts for the day. I'm sure there was much weeping and sobbing and mourning and gnashing of teeth.

Yup. Riiiiight.

Potterheads: A Review of H.P. 7.5

Don't you act surprised. You knew this was coming.

Last night, I (and the millions of Harry Potter fans spanning the United States) attended the last Harry Potter midnight premiere of all time. No more shall we rot in miles-long lines for hours, awaiting the deeply-anticipated eerie theme music signaling the start of yet one more Potter film. No more must we moon for weeks, agonizing that JULY 15 IS NOT HERE YET, WHY IS IT NOT HERE YET? No longer will we be up until 3 a.m. with work in the morning! (At least not for the sake of going to a movie.)

Okay, I Give

It's official, folks: I fail.


Though I have promised to write something (occasionally, even something good!) once every week, this week, I cannot deliver. I want to say it is because other things are happening, but--


(Oh wait! Yes, something did happen, and if we're friends on Bookface then you already know what it is!)

Dear Friends

Firstly, Happy Birthday, America! Have more!


In other news, Journeyman's finally wrapped. (If you've been away from the Interwebs for a while and are therefore not quite sure what I mean when I say "Journeyman," check this link.)