Apparently, I got myself into aroma therapy without even realizing it. Two worlds collided: a girl on Hinge told me how lovely showering in the dark is while simultaneously my mom re-gifted me a box incense. So most nights now, I’ll take as second shower (because I hate Earth and don’t pay for utilities) and use my stove to ignite one. But before I turn off the lights, I watch the smoke unravel out from the ash, and I wonder how it supports itself up way longer than it deserves. It’s amazing how just a little heat can make something so strong so brittle and broken.
Today while showering, I thought about Notre Dame, and how in the processing of refurbishing it, they lit it on fire. Oops. I remember the day after there was a picture of a shining gold cross standing strong and tall and noble in the ruins. Someone next to me asked nobody in particular, “How is that possible? How could anyone not believe in God after seeing this picture?” Answered him, I said it was because wood fires burn at only a few hundred degrees while the melting point of gold is over a thousand. He walked away. Oops.