literature

Resilience

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Literature Text

When I was young, I loved to watch my father work. I used to think sparks were dangerous, so I would sit far enough away that the fire could not reach me. But I could still feel the heat, watching sparks rise high into the smoky air.

I was terrified of darkness. I would sleep with a candle burning to protect me, but shadows invaded my dreams. I pretended I was a dragon, filled with flames. Fearless.

Defiant.

No one believes in dragons anymore. No one believes in fire, either. I've grown up into the age of electricity, where fire is too hot and too wild to touch. Why risk burning yourself when light and heat are ready at the flip of a switch? It's much safer to shiver in the glow of civilization than to risk getting burnt.

The lights of cities surround me, outshining the stars. The mess of humanity clusters around the light like moths. They're all just afraid of the dark. I think back to the years I spent pretending to be brave.

When I was young, I loved to watch my mother light a fire. I'll never forget the sight of headlines of newspapers turning into flames.

Maybe that was what first set my heart on fire. I don't know, but I've been burning ever since.

I feel restless. Dissatisfied. Angry with my generation and the ones that came before it. But with that discontent comes determination, and the vision to make my dreams for the future a reality. I no longer think sparks are dangerous. They are beautiful. They are the opportunity to become so much more. I still love the idea of setting the headlines on fire. Maybe something beautiful will rise out of the ashes.

They tell me to choose my battles.
But I'm not willing to compromise. I'll fight every one.

For I am young. I am angry. I am alive.

With my spark I will burn bridges, turn my back on my regrets, set my past ablaze.
I will ignite the world.
Inspiration
Yes, it's been three months since I wrote anything. I won't lie, writing this was absolutely brutal. I don't think I've ever struggled so hard to create something. Unluckily, I had a deadline to force me to finish it. I wrote this for the Be a Spark Challenge.
This piece is all true. I live on a completely solar-powered house far away from the rest of civilization. I think in many ways my very upbringing was the spark for how I view the world now. I feel choked when I'm in the city, unable to breathe, unable to see the stars. I hate the disconnect between the vast majority of humanity and the earth. And I want to end the short-sightedness of the world. We cannot and will not continue to live the way we are today. It's unsustainable. Am I the only one to realize this? No, of course not. But if my spark can ignite real change, then I will fight to bring it to the attention of the rest of the world until we're ablaze with possibilities.
As you can see by the way I've rambled on, this issue is very important to me, and it's hard for me to put how I feel into words.

I did my best.


Technique
Like I said, this was absolutely brutal to write. I used scraps from things I wrote ages ago, adapted them to fit me as a character instead of what I was planning. Other than that, this was the result of a lot of thinking, several headaches and self-discipline.

I still feel like a failure. Writing used to be so easy. Hopefully I can get that back.


Special Mentions
~cherrichan13 for helping me pull through this.
*IndigoSkyes, ~bleusman and ~Nym226 for arguing with me about whether or not am I failure. And *WanderingHere for looking shocked.


Groups
For #theWrittenRevolution members: I just need your thoughts on whether or not this forms a coherent story, and also what you think of the characterization. Is the use of fire over the top, or does it make a good theme?
:iconthewrittenrevolution:


I won first place in the literature category of the contest. Check it out in `PurpelBlur's news article.


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