I mean I guess at some point there must have been, what, a blogger? a poet? who wrote something about the moon and the tides. About the thing he loved or desperately wanted being continually pulled out of reach. Like: the moon was life, or forces outside of his control. And he was the beach, or a person on the beach, at least. And the ocean was a girl, or a beloved pet, or the thrill of being the first person to blog about a funny video. Whatever.

I don’t know. I’ll A9.com it when I get back to civilization.

Here’s what happens: every day at the beach there is a skinny teenage girl in a bikini. She’s out there in the water with her friends, and she screams for the boys each time she gets hit by wave. She’s in the water. She sees the waves. She stands there, gets hit, screams.

Taken to its logical conclusion, she’ll be screaming for one thing or another her whole life.

But I guess we all will.