So the fire across the street last week has had me thinking. Well, more accurately, it's given me bad dreams... I used to be deathly afraid my house would burn down. I used to dream it all the time. I didn't even like to look at the smoke detector. I thought that little red light was creepy. I remember closing my eyes to not see it. Tricky, considering the smoke detector was at the top of the stairs, and I had to go up stairs with my eyes closed to not see it. I'm not exactly paranoid anymore, I can look at the smoke detector. But even now, I can think of few things more horrifying than the idea of watching my house burn. Well, actually, this shithole can burn right to the ground (and it might, considering what I do to some of these electrical outlets). It's more the idea of watching the house I grew up in burn. Or even the apartment that I loved in Cincinnati burn.

Which got me thinking (here's the thinking part)... If my house was on fire, what would I save? Other than myself. And really, there's nothing. Nothing. If I force my imaginary self to save something, I'd want to save my computer. I guess. It has pictures on it. But there's really absolutely nothing else. I thought I'd be more attached to my stuff. I mean, I have a lot of stuff. Surely something other than the computer must have deep meaning and significance. How can I not want to save it? Is this weird? If your house was burning down, what would you save?

Posted by blueostrich at 8:43 PM
Something to say?