FIRE version a

Somewhere between friendly and sober. Somewhere between revolutionary and nihilistic. Still unsure how to be independent, not a clue how I'll get through the next 40 years. And that was before the fires. That was before the heat. I saw it coming because I've learned to always keep one eye on the door.

If I knew what I knew now before… It's a cliche, but it doesn’t remove the sting. Suddenly, the past is so obvious and the present is so confusing and the future is frightening and 20 years from now I'll know I was a fool who made all the wrong moves, but right now, like I said, I haven’t a clue.

Everything seems to be getting worse and I’m trying to not let that make me impulsive. But waiting is killing me. Waiting for the inevitable. Perhaps history would absolve me, but then again who will be writing it? The thought of the end of the record is so freeing. I’m not trying to leave my mark, to be remembered, but it seems like I will be in some capacity so I'm trying to avoid bringing shame on my family.