How would one go about relighting one’s fire?

Right now, I really wish I knew.

The only hope I’ve got is in this apple I’ve got here.

Give me a moment.



Sometimes I think that all my problems could be solved if I just remembered to eat fresh fruit more regularly. Lately I’ve been in the habit of keeping fruit beside my bed, so that when I wake up into the fudgy cold dread of an early morning with work looming before me, I can eat some fruit.

It makes all the difference. It helps that the local apples are absolutely lush.

So. Fire.

It depends on what we’re talking about. Physical energy? Metaphysical energy? Sexual energy? Actual fire?

Fruit doesn’t help with the last one, but the others, surely, are a good start. I talked about sex a lot fairly recently, so maybe I should focus on the fire in your belly.

(Restarting an actual fire is relatively simple, it’s just about creating the right conditions, fuel, oxygen and heat: it’s all about the kindlin and the patience.)

So how does one start a fire in one’s belly (or heart, for that matter)?

The inkspots didn’t want to set the world on fire, but they wanted to start a flame in your heart. The Born Ruffians had the opposite plan.

Music helps.

But kindling can be trickier, mostly because the interior of the body is damp, and the oxygen is generally being used for other purposes.

So you’ve got to keep it metaphorical.


I genuinely just don’t know right now. Sometimes I’m too tired to wake up, to get out of bed or to move. Sometimes I forget how to talk to people or how to think thoughts that aren’t broken and flat and unhappy. Sometimes I feel like I’m melted and broken into little piles of useless flesh that will never be reanimated.

But you know what?

I’ve never frozen solid.

There’s always been something in me that’s kept on moving. Beyond the heartbeat, deeper than that. There’s always something in there that’s waiting to be reactivated, awoken and put back to use.

Sometimes it takes a while, other times it just needs some food and some sleep. Sometimes just a piece of fruit and some music.

Sometimes I just need to write. Or to talk. Or something else.

Sometimes I don’t know, and that’s bad times, because it follows naturally that if I don’t know what to do then I can’t do what needs to be done and so I am stuck.

But it won’t last forever.

I hope.

Something will poke me. Something will be taken away. Some fire will set back alight.

Life is fire. We are all on fire. We’re all destructive but with the potential for usefulness. We’re all variable amounts of energy depending on our circumstance and our selves.

Be careful with people. Be careful with yourself.

You don’t want to get burnt, and you don’t want to go out.

Light the way forward. You’ll get there.

Illustration by Maria.


About Alex Ava

Joiner of Dots. Player of Games. Unreliable Narrator. Dancing Fool. Non binary trans. zey/hir or they/them
This entry was posted in Illustrations by Maria, Questions by Ciara. Bookmark the permalink.

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