-   -
   
 

Fire and Ice / Warm and Cold

I'm reading a story about someone who stole fire and lent it to lesser beings. It's not that complicated. I've heard it before.

Looking at the flame, it's like passion. It's like creativity. It goes and appears out of nothing the eyes can see. It warms you when you are near it.

It shapes metal. It gives you energy. The spark, the burning of fuels, and all that drives you. It lights the night.

But it destroy if you forget out it and it becomes alone, engulfing whatever it touches.

 

But cold: cold like icebergs and silences are not warm. They are distant. Snow creates an empty feeling of being lost, and when you're lost in you, you could be frozen still. It is like being dumb: you are kept the way you are. Dead, lacking progress, lacking breath.

At least with fire, you are vanquished back into energy. You change when you have touched fire. It is like being educated: you are branded, marked, influenced.

Darkness and Light

Do you believe lack of light and being surrounded by shadows means lacking knowledge, not knowing? The light, like a bolt that drives down, must be a clue from the Heavens. I has once referred to Satan an emblem (more fitting of me), but I don't think I am closer to the dark and evil as Victor would say. Would that mean his is closer to God and the Light?

There were many times lightning came down, into the lake, into a tree that cracked like a loaf of bread in half. Was this God destroying? Light and knowledge can't destroy, can it?

Lightning opens the eyes. Like staring at fire: you can to hold onto its sight before it disappears. It illuminates, but like Muses and passion, they are fleeting. But they are sexy.

Victor saw my shadow and was frigthened The cold and wet weather wore him down, like anchors. (But they did not keep him stable, as they keep ships). He was mad, a dark scientist, while he called me a demon because I was somehow caught between Light and Dark, science and faith, old pieces of bodies and my new book-read self. He would rather see me stay in the dark night and become obsolete. He would never upgrade me, better me, transform the old into the modern. Recharge what you charge a spark of life. He had enbued with with a spark. Modernity is that painful burnt earth where the lightning has come down and struck hard. To strike means to secure in place and remove. It takes two polar ends and marries them, creating electricity.

 

ENGL 397M / Duy-Khuong Van