Sometimes these small boats made simply from sticks found on a windswept beach can seem so much like life.
Our bodies, our genetic makeup (and one could argue perhaps even our very consciousness) made up of parts found on the beaches of time and pieced lovingly together by some great creator, to then be set adrift on the turbulent sea of existence, where we are tossed to and fro', at the mercy of whatever forces we find ourselves enclosed by.
All follow clear and distinct paths, separate from each other, but all are destined to fall or be torn apart and reclaimed by the sea and the wind and the passage of the years.
The boats here might so easily be echoes of our very substance and their plight could so easily be ours.
...
But they're not.
I gave one to Kristyna and the other one got trod on.
All that metaphorical stuff is just hooey and they're just boats.
...
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! A GIANT FOOT IS CRUSHING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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