If I close my eyes and cup my hand I can imagine that I hold a ball of fire. I can feel it burn and I can see it sparkle, but only when I have my eyes closed. When I open them and actually look at my cupped hand I just see my hand in a strange position. The ball is white and it's not very big, but it's there. It's warm and it's bright. I'm not really the kind of person who should be able to create balls of fire so it's probably a good thing that it's not really there. Probably. I'm excellent at what I do, so I'd probably be excellent with a ball of fire. I'm awesome and incredibly and excellent. At what I do. Only... I don't actually have something I do. Yet. I don't have anything I do incredibly well. Yet. Unless you count the gaming. I'm very good at that. Or the writing. I'm really good at that. In fact, I'm better at that then the gaming and that says a lot. That's why I, at 0:35am on a Friday night, cup my hand and pretend that there's a ball of white fire burning there. It's easier to write fantastic stories if they can be visualised. So that's what I'm doing. If I can see it, it'll come true. And it will be magical.
This made no sense, but it wasn't meant to be. Have a nice day.
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