Another ordinary day in August. It was my decision, that evening, to set fire to my past. Well-thought-out I lit the fire and watched that part of me burst into flames. Their sound broke the solemn silence. I spent hours listening to its comforting crackle destroying my memories. It was an enlightment, a savlation. The warmth of ease filled every cell of my body and radiated into the whole future. I was soon blinded by the glaring light of hope and naivety.
Last night I finally found myself standing there again in front of everything that remained. Only a skeleton of a tree was left, surrounded by a wasteland covered in the ashes of my past. Every step I took let the dust raise to fill my lungs with a million particles of thick ash. Tnere I lay. Unable to breathe, condemned to feel.