inside my mind

by D.O.


Disclaimer: this post probably won’t make you laugh, so if that’s what you’re looking for, scroll down some.

Fire just amazes me. I remember as a kid I would just sit and watch the embers fall below the fire in the fireplace and imagine that they were Indians doing some sort of rain dance (which, if the Indians really were on fire, they’d probably want rain pretty bad). Fire can be used to heat food, a house, whatever you have in your beaker in chemistry lab, and your appendages. It can also prove extremely dangerous when the house that is supposed to be heated by the flame is consumed by it. I have the flame pictured above lit in my room to give it a more user-friendly aroma, and I always blow it out before I leave the house because I fear that it may jump out of the candle and onto my nearby flammable computer. Why on Earth would that happen? I don’t know, but I have some fear of it in me somewhere.

God used fire in a bush to talk to Moses. He also cast Satan and his homeys into the fiery pits of hell when they got prideful. Various persecutors of the Church have used fire to end the lives of followers of Christ who refused to deny their Savior. We use the verb “burn” often, meaning that someone is extremely passionate about something or someone else. There seem to be countless meanings and connotations of the word “fire” and it’s different offspring words (for lack of a better term) like burn, consume, singe, and facemelt.

I think what sparked (no pun intended, I promise) this post was my thinking about how fire can be so cool and useful when used correctly, and how it can be so destructive when used improperly. So no real point to this post, but know that things like that are what go through my head daily.