50 lines
2.3 KiB
Markdown
50 lines
2.3 KiB
Markdown
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categories = ["poetic"]
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tags = ["fire", "HL"]
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date = "2021-12-15T00:19:00.000Z"
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layout = "post"
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title = "Newflame"
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description = "What happens when you walk into the fire?"
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[[resources]]
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name = "header thumbnail"
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src = "**matteo-kutufa-UvuPQamqzxo-unsplash*"
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[resources.params]
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[resources.params.meta]
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creator = "KMatteo Kutufa"
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license = "https://unsplash.com/license"
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sameAs = "https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1528918007032-ace5ad267d56?ixlib=rb-1.2.1&ixid=MnwxMjA3fDB8MHxzZWFyY2h8NTF8fGZsYW1lfGVufDB8fDB8fA%3D%3D&auto=format&fit=crop&w=600&q=60"
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Forget not who [you are](/post/2018/10/you-are/), my darling.[^1]
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[Burn fierce, burn bright](/post/2018/01/burn-fierce-burn-bright/). Above all, burn as you are and *as you will to be*.
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What colour is a person's fire, you ask? It depends.
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This particular consuming conflagration I think is like molten snow. Liquid heat infused into ice. A delicious contradiction that burns bright despite all reason and rule.
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> [You are magic, don't **ever** apologise for the fire in you](https://www.instagram.com/p/CUkUCyRomqL/)
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Burnt into the flame of hope, that piercing roaring whiteness, dancing gleeful at its core is another flame. This flame is red.
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Not the cherry red of strength, though this scintillating plasma burns with fierce strength.
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Not the blood red of life, though this flame is powerfully enlivened with desire to live.
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The particular red that spins and burns within this flame of hope is that of endless passion, a full and encompassing crimson.
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As you watch this incendiary union, the two contrasting flames -- red against white, white against red like a bloodied game of chess, [dueling like lovers hearts](https://medium.com/the-scene-heard/meeting-my-match-26d32f62043a) -- fuse and amalgamate.
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Duly, a *new* colour is formed from eating up both flames. Octarine. The eighth colour of the rainbow. The colour of magic.[^3] Indescribable. Fluorescent. Fierce.
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In its sublime new colour, the flame grows. And grows. A spark begets an inferno, sooner or later. This flicker is magical, to boot.
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You walk into the flame, though you strangely do not fear being burned.
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What happens when you walk into the fire, unafraid?
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[^1]: Yes, *you*. The one reading this. You have beautiful all over your face, too.
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[^3]: GNU STP
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