So, I finished HP7…
~~~~*SPOILER WARNING! DON’T BLAME ME IF YOU GET TOLD MORE THAN YOU WANT TO KNOW!!*~~~~
And… it was pretty good. JK Rowling has always been better at creating her world than at expressing it in words; her imagination though is such that I normally find myself captivated by the plot despite her frequent overuse of words like “said”. (My imagination allows me to enjoy even the most shittily written piece, if what’s behind the words is good).
I have to say though – that ending sucked ass. It was so… pointless. Harry and Ginny have kids. Ron and Hermione have kids. Big whoop… what about that didn’t we already know? Tell us something interesting, like how Bill and Fleur get on, something about Harry and Teddy’s relationship, and whether McGonnagal finally becomes Minister(ess?) for Magic… it either needed to be longer, or not to exist at all.
I’m also quite pissed off that she killed all the characters I actually liked except Bill – slowly working her way through Sirius, Dumbledore, Lupin and Snape… but then, last book, it’s not like I’ll miss them in the future.
There did at least seem to be a certain substance to this one that the other books lacked, so-called important events really were important and didn’t just slip past almost unnoticed. Perhaps it was the fact that, finally, there was point to the plot. When it was explained how Volde’s soul had latched onto Harry, though, I was rather looking forward to a demonic cleansing ritual involving the variety of fire which wiped out the room of requirement: simply dying was a bit unexciting really.
A little entertainment
This website has got to be one of the most humourous, if pathetic, things I have read in a long time:
http://www.shelleytherepublican.com/
In particular, for the computer-minded:
http://www.shelleytherepublican.com/2007/01/31/mozilla-exposed.aspx
And so we come to the truth of it
I used to be different. Used to be better. I used to be outstanding.
Now, I’m not. I’m nothing now, just another fleck of dust, the world knows my uses and they are few.
There is nothing good about normal. To be average is a greater curse than all the pain I have felt through my closing years.
For the first time in a long time, blood will be spilt. So normal. So useless. So wrong.
They were right, all along, I am worthless as they said I am. Why did I not believe them? What hope did I cling on to? (Tangent: Ah, but therein lies the issue.. I did believe them for so long. Who convinced me that that was fallacy??!) That I could be something?! That I could do something?! Anything but cry! Why didn’t I fade, and die, like they wanted me to? I now wish I had.
Is there so little?
What the Hell is wrong with me? Why did I believe myself worthy of hope when no-one, no-one else believes its worth!!
I thought I had left my imagined world, but it turns out I only fell deeper into it. Did I create all of this? There is no hope! It does not exist, and I will not hear speak of it.
All is lost to the creeping hands of decay and death, and minds like I have no place here.
Hope is black and dirty lie, it gives people the most amazing thing they could have, and then strips it away. Hope can only cause pain.
Hope is a lie.
And yes, thankyou, my insanity is doing just fine. :)
