Some Like it Hot

It's hard to believe that today is my last day in Pod 2D. It sickens me to reflect on the semester and realize how it was literally yesterday that I was moving my stuff upstairs in the 100 degree heat. Man time flies! Although I rejoice at the semesters end, I mourn that this is my final day in dorm life. This semester has even competed with life on 3rd North. But all is not melancholy. I have 5 weeks until I fly off to Europe for 6 months. And next year, I'm gonna live in a house! Yep, myself, Bart, Keith, Chad, and Kay Why are gonna be house buddies. I am pretty excited about this, though I may have to cut down on Little Panda in order to pay rent.

My final week has been eventful. When I'm not trashing KY and Bart in Smash Bros., I've been studying and writing papers, just trying to finish out the semester strong. In a few hours I've got my dad's final. I'm not too worried, seeing as I get an automatic A for being his son. It's written somewhere in the syllabus I think. Last Friday, I was duped into entering a 'consumption challenge.' I put that in quotations because although it was a consumption challenge, I was not fully informed on all of the details of said challenge. My dear friend Chad, desperate as he was, beat around the bush and got me to agree to this. Being a good friend, I was like, sure of course I will! After I had sworn with my own blood, Chad informed me that I would be eating 12 Blazing Buffalo Wild Wings. Hmm. I don't know how much you know about Buffalo Wild Wings, but it's one of my favorite places. I love me some wings dipped in ranch. I also like my wings to have a good kick to em' too. I usually order my wings with the Hot sauce on them. The Hot level is pretty darn hot. It will get your sinuses running. Now, for you inexperienced Wingers, Hot is three levels below the hottest sauce. After hot comes Mango Habeñero, Wild, and then Blazing. At this point, I get this surge of anxiety. Let's break this down.

1. I'm a man. I can't back down from this!

2. I'm part Cajun. Our kind like it hot. I've been raised on spicy crawfish and File Gumbo my entire life! How can I let the Cajun Nation down??

3. I already agreed... I'd feel bad backing out now...

So I kept my word. Last Friday, I entered the Campus Center, and ate me some wings. Wing number one went ok. I definitely felt the kick-- this was one hot sucker. But it didn't destroy my mouth like I expected. With more confidence, I picked up wing number two. Now I had a strategy for this prestigious competition, and it was pacing. To my left, Jason Lutterloh was just going to town. But soon enough, he was out for the count. I couldn't see how the rest of the competition was faring, but I knew I had this cat beat. Wings 3 and 4 went down, and all of the sudden my predicament became clear. Fellas, I was in for one spicy ride. The heat was intense. I could literally feel the heat rising off of them. I got a bad case of the hiccups, my bodies way of trying to bargain with me about what I was doing. My mouth still isn't on speaking terms with me, and my digestion system is plotting mutiny of a horrible kind. At this point, it was do or die. The longer I waited, the longer the pain would be. So I dove in. Wing after wing after wing. They were quite tasty. Around wing ten or eleven, I managed to get sauce in my nose, which was hell. Finally I got to wing 12 and devoured it like a voracious cheetah devours its prey. I stood up to see if I won and...... got second place. Damned Asian kid beat me. I really wasn't surprised though. Those Asians can eat like Ghengis Khan is on their ass. It's nuts. You ever watch Kobiyashi in the hot dog eating contest? Dude can put down over 50 hotdogs, and he only weighs like 110 pounds or something like that. This kid was probably his son or something. But I was proud of second place. I felt like I held the family honor high, and I also got a free meal out of it. But dear baby Jesus, my face was melting. I got to my room and washed the sauce off, and my face was just beet red. It looked I had just gotten the worst sunburn of my life. That night when I took a shower, the hot water reactivated all the heat on my face, and it lit on fire again! And the next morning.... I won't go into details, but I disintegrated the toilet. And all for the sake of friendship. See if I ever be a good friend again.

And now for a sneak preview:

COMING DECEMBER 13, THE 12 ROASTS OF CHRISTMAS!

JOIN ME AND GET THE INSIDE SCOOP ON SETH'S BANDANA, WHAT KELCIE BROOM REALLY WANTS FOR CHRISTMAS, AND MUCH MUCH MORE!

Thanksgiving, Do We Even Gotta Question?

Happy Thanksgiving! Yes, in case you didn't get the memo, today is Thanksgiving! Man I sure do love Thanksgiving. There's so many positive things that go on during the Thanksgiving Holidays, I can hardly contain myself. I type this blog with a stomach that has expanded nearly eight times its normal capacity. This year, my family and my grandparents are staying at Quartz Mountain, a resort located somewhere in Oklahoma. It's pretty nice! Lunch today was amazing. There were so many options, I didn't even know where to start. Along with the traditional turkey and dressing, they had prime rib, leg of lamb, honey-glazed ham, crawfish, shrimp, crab-legs, sushi, and tons of other stuff! I felt like I was sitting at the start of the term feast in the great hall at Hogwarts. I ate so much! It was incredible. Times like now really cause me to reflect on Squanto and Samoset and all the pilgrims. I'd give anything to be at that first table! I can only imagine what that game of backyard football was like. You know the pilgrim men got their asses kicked by Squanto and Co. John Smith led a bruising D, but Christopher just couldn't get the offense going. Plus the Natives had Pocahontus cheerleading, which boosted their morale immensely. How I would love to circle around the turkey fryer, knockin' back homemade brews with my new found Native American Bros. I bet some funny jokes were told while the bird was cooking. Back then, the Cowboys always won on Thanksgiving day too. After the meal, they probably all gathered under Grandmother Willow with a cup of Verona, and listened to her tell old stories filled with wisdom and knowledge. Pizzaro and Cortes came up from Mexico for pumpkin pie. The fun only lasted so long. Pretty soon, the natives were tortured and enslaved, but hey, that first thanksgiving meal was one for the books.

The end of the Thanksgiving season means one important thing: The Christmas season can finally legitimately begin. If you've been listening to Christmas music, putting up decorations, or watching Christmas movies before today, then shame on you. Such behavior makes me ill. But nothings worse than major retail stores. I swear, Wal-Mart never even takes their decorations down. What ever happened to respecting each holiday in its turn? Poor Halloween... Halloween gets abused the worst. I can't imagine how it must feel to be overshadowed by a holiday 2 months away. That must be how Keith feels everyday with 4 older siblings. I prefer to acknowledge each holiday in its own turn. That way I can enjoy each holiday without any distractions from other holidays. And this way, no poor holiday gets left out.

Today marks the start of the Christmas season, and you know what that means. Yes, tomorrow is black Friday. If your like me, you've already got your routes planned out. I plan on arriving at Target at precisely 2:37 AM, so I can be among the first to enter the store at 4:00 AM when it opens. I plan to get my best deals there, but only spend four hours inside. After wards I will hit up various stores in the mall to clean up what ever is left. I've written up a detailed stretching schedule so my legs can be loose and ready to sprint when those doors open. Actually I'm lying, I have no intentions of waking up before noon tomorrow. In fact, I really think black friday is a little dumb. It's ridiculous how the most advanced species of animals (us) turns into raving rabid dingos when it comes to Christmas shopping. I even read a story a few years ago about a stampede at some retail store on Black Friday that like killed several people. There is something seriously wrong if you can consciously stomp over another human all in the sake of saving a few bucks. But I guess that just reflects what the holidays are really about... its all about materialism. That's really too bad. I hope that this season we can all keep the important things in mind, because that's really what it's all about.

Well, I'd say its naptime. Enjoy the rest of your Thanksgiving! And go Horns!

Barton's passed out, I pass the dressin'!

The Roast of Barret Hall 2D

It's been awhile. The semester is almost up, which in turn means that I only have two and half weeks of dorm life left. This is exciting and kind of sad at the same time. I've had a blast living in the pod this year, and I will definitely miss it when I leave. Gosh this semester has flown by. It seems like yesterday Drew was getting busted for illegally living in the pod for a week. I've missed blogging terribly. Once pledging started, I didn't do much of anything except pledge and watch Dragonball Z. Blogging takes too much energy. Once pledging ended, it was tough getting back into the swing of things. But here I am, just typing away again. I didn't really know what to write about for this entry, so I decided to compile a list of the things I've learned this semester. Because that's what college is for. You come here to learn....

Lesson #1: Get to know your RA and RD before you start breaking rules.

Yah... we all found this one out the hard way *cough Drew cough*. My fellow podmates and I are what I like to call "boundary explorers". Some of us more than others, though I won't name any names. We've always been like this. I guess technically you could say that we like to break rules, but that makes it sound like were bad people. I like to think of it as we don't let rules enslave us. Anyways, a few things happened that kind of got us off to a rough start. First off, we arranged our furniture how we saw fit, but apparently there is a strict and stupid structure for every single grain of dust in Barret. Paul tore us a new one on the first morning when he walked in on move-in day and saw that the TV had been moved against another wall and the official Barret couch was stacked stadium-style on top of a table. I still don't really see what the big deal was and I think we were a little harshly treated by our 7:00 AM wake up call via cannons and trebuchets (Paul and Tommy's fists against our doors). But things worked out in the end. How could we not be mad at Tommy when he fully supported keith, kyle, barton, and myself getting curfew violations for going to a baptism? And one can only idolize Paul's destructive obsession with following rules. The highlights of our week our the encyclopedia's of new procedures and rules of Barret Hall. Something about being threatened with a $75 fine for forgetting to brush my teeth just really gets me excited about life.

Lesson #2: Drew is desperately terrified of sharp things I.E. knives, ninja stars, and machetes. Actually Drew is basically terrified of life.

This lesson has proved priceless, because Drew has this knack for hacking into our computers and controlling them. He thinks this is hilarious. It was kind of funny a year and a half ago, but even then it didn't get more than a chortle. However Drew still derives (calculus term for ya buddy) unfathomable joy from this little maneuver, and every chance he gets, he makes the best of it. But now us victims can fight back. A machete against his throat when he's asleep usually does the job quite nicely. The shower is also prime time for sneak attacks. He never sees it coming.

Lesson #3: Austin's Itunes is the perfect place to turn to in times of depression.

Everyone's been there. It's the point where life is just taking a dump on you, and you have no where to go. You reach this point where you just want to cry, and you don't even want to feel better. You start thinking of sad things to make yourself even more depressed, because in that masochist kind of way, it feels good. So where do you go? That's right: Austin's Itunes. You can always find a sad, emo, or sappy romantic song to just plunge your soul even deeper into the abyss of depression. I know when I'm sad I get his computer and blare some Never Shout Never, because sometimes "My heart's tied in a knot and my stomachs in a swirl."

Lesson #4: Rumors confirmed-Travis is indeed 80 years old.

We were all suspicious, but recent studies and detective work has revealed the truth. Travis is in fact an old man. Suspicions began when his bedtime slowly but surely trickled down to 8:00 PM every night. Things got even more obvious when he was waking up at 6:00 AM every morning. A huge piece of evidence that led to this conclusion was the fact that any noise above a whisper causes a serious disturbance in his equilibrium. Aware of the ever growing body of evidence against him, he began to fear that his secret would be discovered. On Halloween night, he tried to throw the investigators off the trail by dressing up as an old man. A clever plan, except that nobody even noticed a difference, and in fact asked why he didn't have a costume. His continued usage of jokes that makes one cringe at the level of corn involved was the final piece needed to solve the mystery.

Lesson #5: Nik has more game than any man at ACU.

Any single man reading this blog needs to take a couple of leaves from Nik's book. On arrival to the pod, we began noticing that the company Nik keeps was predominately female. Not just females, but some fairly attractive females. Jake and Travis, who prefer to shun women, were particularly flabbergasted. "What's a girl?" Jake retorted on his first encounter with this phenomenon. Any man would be proud to have a flock of lasses tailing him EVERYWHERE, but the story doesn't end there. The most amazing part about this whole shindig is that Nik has formed a deep and serious relationship with each of the 27 girls in his clique. But the story doesn't end there! Nik's game is so outstanding, that he's convinced every single one of his girlfriends to be ok with his multiple relationships. One might inquire as to how a man can fit time for 27 women. Nik again showed his genious by purposefull scheduling no classes, giving him all day to do absolutely nothing but mack on his ladies. I tip my hat to you sir.

Lesson #6: Gingers will become extinct in 100 years.

I wipe a torrent of tears from my eyes as I type this. But its true. In biology, I learned that in one hundred years, every single ginger will be dead. Gone. Deceased. Rotting. Keith Carroll took this news especially hard. He is painfully going through the stages of grieving. Denial hit hard and fast. He absolutely refused to believe that this tragedy would come to pass. He began to go into a fit of jibberish, always referring to his sticky boots, whatever the hell that means. I tried to explain to him that the world will one day just get sick and tired of waiting on him to put his freaking clothes on for dinner, and will leave him behind forever. If there's any hope though, it will be in his Carroll blood's freakish aptitude for reproducing like gerbils. Keith, you are the ginger's only hope.

Lesson #7: Barton is maybe, possibly, most likely, definitely, well IDK, doubtfully going to ATM next year.

Mr. Mahaffey has been probably but most likely never for sure going to ATM next year to pursue a degree in engineering. His assuredness at this plan has all of us a little sad (and my stomach's in a swirl......). How can we live without Bart Bart? I remember when he first said that he was definitely not going to ATM. I can't describe the emotion that filled my heart. The anxiousness at the fact that Barton may or may not leave us was almost more than I could bear. Since he was without a doubt leaving, I knew that I had better make my last few days with him worthwhile. I could finally rest east knowing that Barton was most likely going to stay at ACU. I guess we will all have to prepare for the worst since he is unsure about whether he'll stay at ACU or transfer to ATM. We will all most assuredly not maybe hopefully 100% never miss you. See ya next year!

Lesson #8: Jake Jake's knee is being attacked by aliens.

I've always wondered why jake's knee ails him so. It wasn't until yesterday that we discovered the miniscule, but viscous, army of extra-terrestrials that has been laying siege to his knee for the past 5 years. "It was like a light-bulb went off in my head," Drew exclaimed, "I always thought he was faking it, but it was those damned aliens." What made these aliens so hard to detect was due to their highly advanced active camouflage that they all wear. When Jake Jake went to get an MRI, the doctors nearly missed the devastating army. It was only when one of the buggar's sneezed, knocking off the invisibility for a mere second. That second was all the doctor needed to unlock the mystery. When asked about possible treatments, the doctor replied that there were none, and Jake Jake would have to wallow in his misery forever. He is currently being treated in The Little Spoon Rehabilitation Center for his Ibuprofen addiction.

I'd say its been a successful semester. I don't know if my brain can hold any more information. Until next time, good night.

Simpler times...

I miss blogging. In a couple of weeks, I plan on blogging like a boss. Until then, goodbye.

I Heard Rumor of a Time When Gas Was Only a Quarter Per Gallon

Five-lane streets at lunch time fill up with cars much like beaches fill to the brim with tourists once summer begins. Judge Ely is no exception, and even in the little town of Abilene, traffic thickens and frustrations facilitate from the motorists sitting behind their wheel. As I head to Little Panda, I am thrust into this very situation, dodging grandma drivers, frowning at speeders, banging the wheel impatiently at that guy who has the nerve to drop speed to 5 MPH before making a turn. For the love of Mother Teresa, why is there a tractor taking up two lanes? Why is my tank almost empty? I filled up a week ago! Man, gas takes a chunk out of a paycheck.

My stomach growls. I could really use a heavy dose of General Tao chicken. Time to bump up the speedometer to fifty. Crap, slow it back down, a cop is in that parking lot. Who is this guy driving 35 mph? Doesn't he know the limit is 40? Switch lanes, car in my blind spot, swerve back. One can never trust the side-view mirrors for this very reason. Why is that Hummer riding my butt? Fight the urge to hit the brakes and take her to court. Uh oh, the light turned yellow, and I'm at that awkward position where it would be one heck of brake fest to stop, but I had better gun it if I'm going to make the light. Pull the trigger. Eh... maybe I should have stopped. Too late now. Please, oh please, let their be no cops. And Nathan said, let their be no cops. And Nathan saw that it was good.

Hit the brakes again, I'm going ten over, and the traffic is picking up even more. I feel like it shouldn't take this long to get to Little Panda. But there's so many cars, all going to different places, all with a different human, a different soul, each soul with different amounts of millions of seconds of a life created by the thousands of relationships of thousands of ancestors who conceived at a specific time in history, a time that is absolutely paramount to creating this exact scenario, because if conception happened even a minute earlier, a different sperm out of the hundreds of millions produced by each male would fertilize the egg of the female, creating a completely different human being, meaning that this 'other' being would have a completely unique agenda, placing him or her in another place at another time, and all of these infinite variables converged into this chaotic moment, the moment in which I am trapped in traffic on Judge Ely.

My view is composed of the car in front of me, and the car to my right. Oh, and the Hummer riding my butt. My mind focuses on the brakes and the accelerator, pushing and letting off at appropriate moments. As the parking lot of United appears on my left, I ease my truck into the turning lane, and I can see farther ahead than I could before. In fact, the turning lane is relatively empty. It's a relief, a brief moment where the chaos ends and tranquility begins, a moment where the noise and traffic of the world falls away. This happens because few travel in the turning lane. And even those who do quickly turn out, back into traffic, back into chaos.

Few walk the road less traveled. The narrow path is, well narrow. The world travels in the wide path. The Gospel preaches on this pretty passionately. If one is to reach Heaven, one must take the narrow road. I hear Heaven is a wonderful place.

Growing up, I had heard this story many times. Growing up, I have always tried to travel the narrow road. In my present, I try to travel the narrow road, though often I turn off of it. Something about the crazy world always pulls me off.

Like a magnet.

For the majority of my Christian faith, I have always viewed the narrow path and the wide path as two separate paths, two paths that are in two different dimensions of spiritual space. It makes sense, where sex and and drunkenness belong on the wide path, purity and soberness belong on the narrow path.

Like oil and water.

I'm beginning to see these two paths in a new light. I see a vision of these paths as separate but intertwined. If we are to be lights unto the darkness, we must be in the darkness for our light to illuminate the darkness. How can we minister to those under the curse of sin, if we are prancing in the meadow with Bambi?

Light the meadow on fire.

Bad company corrupts good morals, but too much good company corrupts good Christians. We must learn to walk the narrow path right smack in the middle of a hydrogen bomb, like driving in the turning lane right smack in the middle of four lanes of bumper-to-bumper traffic.

But in real life, don't stay in the turning lane... head-on collisions corrupt life. That means they can kill you. This is a metaphor, sort of like you shouldn't gouge out your eye if your checkin' out a fly lady. Just ask for strength, and high-five God for creating such a gorgeous woman. But in all honesty, I think this is a vision of the narrow/wide path story that should be considered. Let us who walk the road less traveled place ourselves in the road most traveled. The way of Jesus isn't an old country road, but rather the yellow stripes dividing the highway.

Just food for thought.

This General Tao is delicious, though I recommend using a fork. Chopsticks may make you look cool, but let's face it, a fork is so much easier and more efficient. How can the nation that invented gunpowder never evolve past two wooden sticks?

A Hobbit's Life for Me

There's a fire burning in my head tonight. I'm metaphorically banging my head against the wall, bedazzled by humanity. You see, I was recently involved in a situation of little importance, but as you know, the little things in life are what irks us the most, and tonight I am irked. Before I begin my tale, I feel like I must clarify that I am not 'picking' on anyone, and really the point of this post is much larger than the minute situation, whose only importance was really to get the wheels turning in my head. So if you read this, and begin thinking, "Nathan, your a jackass," chill, I still love you dearly, and in all honesty, probably love you more than you love me.

Tonight I will be ripping Christians as a collective group, because we all at some point fall under the umbrella of this post's topic. If you are offended, then you get offended too easily, which is another soap box entirely. But for now, sit back, grab a lemonade, and enjoy a classic Nathan-is-right-and-you-are-wrong- rant.

So a couple of nights ago, I was preparing to head out to a friends house to enjoy the company of some beloved friends who I have not seen nearly enough of this Summer. The night's events consisted of cookies and taquitos and an epic hearts tournament. I love hearts, but I'm not very good. I only have one speed, and that's running the tables, because I go big or I go home. I found myself going home most of the night. Let me back up. I'm getting off on a tangent. Before said party, I received a text from one of my esteemed friends. It said something along the lines of, "Hey guys, in order for a few people to come tonight, I promised them that y'all wouldn't smoke, so yah." To the casual reader, this may seem like a small deal, and I admit that it really wasn't a problem. The guys and I enjoy an occasional smoke on our distinguished pipes, and most of our friends know that. Not all of my friends enjoy smoking, which is perfectly fine. It's not for everyone. The reader must, at this point, understand our habit. I will re-emphasize the word occasionally, which basically means a few times a month. We don't smoke cartons of cigarettes a day, we smoke a few bowls of pipe tobacco, which is much more pleasing to the olfactory sensors that cigarette smoke is. The next important thing to know is that when we smoke, we do so outside, giving those who choose to have beautiful lungs the option to converse indoors where the air is clean. We do our thing, while also being respectful to those who don't like smoke. So what's the problem?

Here's the problem. The problem is that I have 'friends' who are placing conditions on our friendship. And not even good conditions. It would be one thing if we were smoking stogeys indoors, while sipping scotch, and playing cards, where the smoke would suffocate our more tender guests. But that's not what we do at all. We take our business outside. So, by careful calculations, this leads me to believe that the issue isn't the smoking, (how could it be? said guests are not even around the smoke), but rather the idea of smoking. Dun dun dun....... Like I stated earlier, I'm cool if you don't like to smoke. I don't enjoy yoga. But if it's the stigma... woa buddy. Some of my readers know how I feel about stigmas.

As I also mentioned earlier, this story is only a setup to a much bigger picture. The above scenario is meaningless really. But when the issues of the above scenario play out in Christianity, which they do, problems arise.

There's a lot of non-believers in this world. A compelling reason that I have heard way too many times is that NBs (non-believers) say that they can't follow a people who are so judgmental. When us Christians hear this, we scoff and say, "Pah, that's Ludicrous! We accept everybody for who they are!" Bullshit. No we don't. I bet there's a Christian reader of my blogs right now judging me for cussing. Get over it! I'm a nice guy! And it's the little things that set NBs (and me) off. Things like, "I can't hang out with you if your going to smoke." That right there is already batman-signaling your ignorance and unacceptance of a person, and when that person is a NB, they are associating Christianity as a bunch of bigots who think they are too righteous for the rest of the world. Why are Christians so afraid of nutting up and getting their hands a little dirty? For goodness sake, have you read about the places Jesus went?? For those who shudder at the thought of consuming a single drop of alcohol, NEWSFLASH: Jesus made gallons of wine (which has alcohol ;). And not your everyday-run-of-the-mill wine. He made some damn good wine, causing the guests of the party to comment on how the best wine was saved for last. I wasn't there, but I'm pretty sure there was more than one person who was hammered at that party, and yet we find the Son of God right in the middle of this crowd. What if Jesus was like, "Well, I'd come celebrate your Holy union, but.... if there's gonna be alcohol...yah I'm gonna have to skip out. If you were as perfect as me, you'd understand."

Language is another thing that Christians OBSESS over. But do you ever stop and consider why certain language is even bad? We lose our temper and say a curse word, and we better pray because we just sinned, but if we lose our temper and say a replacement word like frick or dang or crap, then we're safe. Shouldn't it be obvious that the real sin is that we lost our temper, not the specific combination of letters we strung together?

As Christians, it is high time that we stepped outside of our little worlds, trekked to the land of Satan, and looked back at our world from the point of view that everyone else sees it. Kind of like standing on the moon. Next time there's a wild party, go and have a beer or two. Don't get smashed, but get your hand a little dirty. Blend in, mix, show everyone that you except them, rather than saying that you do. You'll make a lot more progress in the long run, and gain the respect of NBs. If you do end up getting struck by lightning, my bad, that's totally on my soul. If you don't like smoke, deal with it for the sake of Christ. Nut up or shut up I say. DC Talk says that the greatest single cause of atheism in the world is Christians. Let's change that. Say a curse word today, talk to a person who would tarnish your perfect reputation in the eyes of your fellow bigot christian friends. It's funny, that we look at the material world and shun them for caring about the way they look, but really, we care about the way we look, so much so that we'll skip out on fellowship for the sake of not getting any dust on our shiny mirrors.

Have a sketchy day for Christ.

Suhbadicool

Hi.

I have not posted a single blog this summer. I apologize. I've been a busy man. That's not really true, I guess I'm fishing for excuses for my long absence away from Blogger.com. There's many things that I wish to say, but that is not for this post. This is simply a welcoming party to my revamped sight! Welcome to 'I Thought About a Burning Fire'. I got tired of the name 'The Enclave', because, although it was the birthplace, The Enclave just doesn't exist anymore, and one can't live in the past forever. I decided to move on, and thus landed on this title. Think of it as a child hitting puberty. It's the same mind, the same words, just.... older? Maybe this is a terrible analogy. The title comes from one of my favorite songs, 'About a Burning Fire' by Blindside. I find the title fitting because often as I write, my thoughts are difficult to decipher, not due to the complex nature, but rather to my ineptitude at untying knots. It's like a burning fire in my head. Cool, huh? So that's about all for this post. Here's to more posts in the near future. Enjoy the fiery colors. Peace.