after a year of setting myself on fire, this is what i've learned:
forests burn. wood burns. they die and they change and they rot.
rocks don't burn.
and neither does water.
this is what i wrote on wednesday [the 5th]:
these days, i walk to the ocean alone (who am i kidding, i do everything alone — just like the old days) and walk into the water, as far out as i can, as deep into the sand. i stare at the waves and wait for the fear to come that makes me want to step back. i wait for it to pass, but it never does.
and then i stare and wait for the waves to hit me.