I am obsessed with it. It is not an illusion. Nor is it an assumption. I am obsessed with it. Fire. The all consumer. The everlasting. Fire. People say it dies. It does not die. It goes away. That is all. It is not driven by hunger. But by purpose. It is not uncontrolled. It is control. Like Love. Unlike memories. It does not fade away. That is fire. A truth. Undeniable. Unshakable. I am amazed there isn't a god of fire. Even the baddest of smokes looks good. It feels good. At least while the fire lasts. It is only afterwards. After the fire is gone. That you realize. It was a waste.