5/31/04

I am restless…I am pent up, I am ready to burn, but I am not able to.  I want to build a fire, a fire that will burn for weeks…when I say weeks, I mean weeks for at least three months.  I want it big, I want it hot, I want it to so hot it melts iron, makes glass from raw sand.  Enough to cook the life out of everthing it touches…Big enough to draw so much force to put it out, yet it can not be.  It has a heart of pure magnesium…something that burns when it has oxygen around it…and will not stop until it has burned it’s self out.  That is what I feel…that is what I want to do…I want to burn, I want to destory, I want to just tear everything apart and have nothing but chaos in my wake…everything I touch I want it to fall to ashes…I want it to smoke, and be no more.  Nothing left but blacken hulls of what use to be…a house here, a car there.  What is left of a tree…but not enought to know unless you look at it long enough.  Ruin, chaos, smoke, fire, and fear…hate, yet love that your able to get away from it.