Wet Eyes

The match caught, and she held it up to me.

"See? There are so many things in fire." Her hand shook only slightly.

I watched the flame flicker, the red, the orange, saw past it to her dark red hair.

The flame moved, swaying back and forth like a Hawaiian belly dancer. Mesmerizing. I've watched campfires since I was a kid and understood fire's allure, but I was unsure of what she was trying to tell me.

"What do you see?" I asked.

She stared a moment, then looked at me, almost through me. "The fire burns, it is hot. It destroys, yet lives, its brutal hotness breathing."

I watched her lips form distracted words, her eyes shifting focus on the flame.

"Ouch!" She dropped the match, and rubbed her fingers against her jeans.

"Are you okay?"

Her head shot up, her eyes still filled with the fire. "Of course."

She dug in her pocket, and pulled out a matchbook, her eagerness to light another match knocking two other books to the ground. She knelt, picked them up, and put them back in her pocket.

"You don't smoke, do you?" I had to ask.

"No," she said, lighting another match. "I think that is awful."

"Why do you have so many matches?"

She moved the match close to me, I could feel the heat on my eyes, drying them. "Can't you see?"

I looked, and shook my head. "I only see you."


dreams

Sleep deprivation spurns wondrous fantasies.

Three nights and three days with open eyes (caffeine is cheating) and otherwise what would be happening in your life? Take a trip within your mind. Sacrifice a little sanity for the sake of experience and personal expansion.

Eight hours of sleep times three days leaves one full twenty-four hour period completely unaccounted for . . . you forget the dreams that you would have been too exhausted to dream. Instead, stumble in a trance of hopeless hidden mentality. Like a drunkard searching for a bed, wander until you find something striking, then settle into it with a goofy grin. Have an epiphany. And another that relates to the first. Then, only then, should you even begin to think about sleep. In this state of mind-exhaust speak with people that cross your path. Remember what they say. And use their stories, their knowledge, their anecdotes and surreal babbling in place of your dreams. You may not be able to understand everything at first, but with time these conversations, these random events and once-blank moments will click with realization. Profit from mind babble. Live your life as if in a dream. And when you do sleep, it will be more precious, more deep, more real.

Lorax


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