...we the starfish...

[permetaform]

[crossposted from pirategasm]

This is a bit late but...

As an old man walked down the beach one day, he saw a child picking up something from the sand and throwing it into the sea. The old man asked the child, "What are you doing?"

"Chucking the starfish," the child replied.

"Why?" asked the old man.

"The starfish washed ashore in the high tide. If they stay on the beach they will dry out and die, so I'm chucking them back into the ocean."

The old man looked at the child and at the beach and said, "There are hundreds of starfish on this beach. How can what you're doing make any difference?"

The child bent down, picked up another starfish, pointed to it and said, "It makes a difference to this one," and threw it into the sea.

-Author Unknown-

...everytime I tried writing a tribute or something to PotC fandom I freeze up and don't quite know where to start. I rec often and I'm not sure that is exactly *enough* for me to tribute it as such because I rec so often and.

I remember, sitting in that theater, wondering what was up with the lights, they were still half on during the previews and then.

Blackness.

A wash of gold, flowing across the screen, to fade and suddenly this.

Disorientating flash of white, of fog and mist and vaguely formed dreams and out of it, out of it comes this ship, and the lonely sound of a girl singing for pirates, for freedom.

And isn't that just somehow perfect, just somehow resonating.

Because lo' a pirate reached and grabbed her shoulder, kindly old storyteller that is wild at the edges. And lo' a pirate joined her, brocaded and noble and yet somehow free at heart; and lo' a pirate joined her, bewigged and escapist and escaping England and his wife's death to make his way on a warm outpost clinging to the edge of a sea.

Lo' a pirate joined her, small and soaking and weighted with an aztec medallion.

I watched the movie of these changeling creatures, of a kohled fool who became more, of a dusty smith who became more, of a girl who tried to swing a sword and failed. and tried to negotiate her freedom and failed. and tried to breathe in a corset and failed.

Pirates set her free.

And isn't that somehow perfect?

A blacksmith who fails at being heroic. A pirate who fails to stay free. A commodore who has charge of everything but his heart.

And a treasure cave, located up the nostril of an island that looks like a skull.

And isn't that somehow perfect?

'cause you get to the end, landed on a black ship, breathless but with the smell of sea in your lungs and the knowledge of Jack's hands on his ship at last and the music soars in your ears and.

I realize, distantly that the movie doesn't affect everyone this way, but.

Perhaps I am one of those starfish that was thrown back into the ocean.

breathe, with me, the sea

Near spontaneously I started writing fic, I friended massively from the interesting posts on pirategasm's friendslist, read so many wonderful fics, got to know so many interesting people, and.

in small and big ways learned a bit better how to breathe.

::hugs fandom::

Comments

[elke-tanzer.livejournal.com]

*hugs you*

*hugs fandom*

[permetaform]

::hugs back::