Fires have been in the news a lot lately–especially those that are actually trying to commit suicide. I keep thinking, gosh, what an awful way to go. That must be so sore! But having gone through a weekend in complete pain, I admit, I can relate! (Though not the part about taking innocent children, I can’t do that to my son, if it ever got that far, I’d much rather have him live with relatives or something, than to die himself!) Gosh, why am I thinking such morbid thoughts? ack. But really…as I lay in pain, and finding the pain of heat was a more bearable pain than the real pain…I couldn’t help but think of it. I was going crazy. Sitting, standing, lying…it didn’t matter. I couldn’t alleviate the pain. It was horrible! My body couldn’t figure out what to do. I was literally driving myself crazy, constantly moving, constantly trying to find a position that was not painful, constantly twitching and everything…ick! I couldn’t stand it.

Now I’m going through the same kind of pain, but more emotionally than physically as it was this past weekend. But it’s still the same. It drives me crazy though this time it’s because I’m constantly thinking about it. *sigh*

I desperately need a new fire, a new passion to drive me forward. I gotta stop living beneath the rock with all the bugs and nasty creatures, and go out into the sunlight. I just don’t know where it is, which way is up, how to get out of this soot and ash, and into the bright heat of the sun. Burn away the old and start anew.

But how?


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