Happy Birthday, Harry Potter

August... August is the sneakiest month. Everyone enjoys July too much to give August a thought until it's already here.

August - August. I've completed one rotation on the unicycle of adulthood, and I have to tell you, I nearly fell off a couple of times. It was a year of first tries and second bests. I'm hoping I can make this a chiasmus --

Second tries and first bests. First best.
No one really ever says first best. Probably because "first best" connotes that  there is a second best, and no one bothers with second place.

We live in a cut-throat, darwinian society, so people tend to forget the runner up.

For example: At a party, there is a plate of rice krispy treats, and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. The plate of cookies is always the first one empty.
Well, as far as I know, and even though that may not be a lot, the caloric value of a rice krispy treat is essentially the same as that of a chocolate chip cookie.

I've been told by God that we're all of infinite worth. I'm going to take Him at face-value, too.
So basically, we're all a walking chiasmus of first tries and second bests, soon to become second tries and first bests.

And it's ok to say first best, because that implied second best will be first best soon too, and their second best will be first best, and on and on in an infinite cycle of inversion and conversion.
August can be the sneaky, second-best month of stair-step chiasmi.

Astonishment

"We are all on the brink of miracles."

"Miracles are a matter of perception."

-Perhaps we are all on the brink of perceiving miracles?-

Boxed out

I've been put in a box.
I've been folded neatly and put away.

It's funny how when you store away people, they have a tendency of leaking over the top and out the edges of the drawer.

You know what's funny? I put you in a box.
I stacked that box in the top shelf of my closet.

I don't really like to take it out and look at it too much.
Honestly, I don't need to because you've leaked out and over the box and off the shelf and have somehow snuck yourself into the pockets of my jeans and I find you there when I least expect it.