Well the narrator has burned something. Was it their draft card, (I know, I am really old) some firewood for the hearth or a body?
It depends on how euphorically reckless they were.
My friends are all playing avatar games. It seems such a fraud to me to just create an almost identical avatar and try to escape your past.
I want to be loved so much I am going to run away from my own identity. Does that make better poets?
I mean don't get me wrong, I am uglier in real life...
1. An art form vital to preliterate society to convey knowledge and culture, which continued to deeply affect societies right up until the twentieth century, where the advent of recorded music made it obsolete as a means of conveying entertainment and culture.
2. A residue of the deep affection...