i sent my husband a video of myself attempting to blow out a flame-lit lantern. i tried to blow it out three times in the video before facing the camera and admitting ‘this is making me dizzy. please blow out the flames.’
before resorting to recording and sharing my flame-extinguishing failure shame, i attempted to blow the flames out (on multiple lanterns) several times. i even tried to cap the flame to put it out. it still didn’t go out. when i lifted the cap, the shrunken flame danced right up again like some mocking, little asshole.
i wasn’t half-assing these attempts. i was huffing and puffing like a wolf in a kids’ story trying to put these out, but those flames were not at all interested.
it felt like when you approach an automatic door, and it doesn’t open. you’re just unexpectedly standing there, staring at your own, dumb face in the reflection of the door that didn’t open. you look up at the motion censor like it has personally wronged you. like it should not just recognize you as a person, but should recognize you, personally. then some other random jackass comes up, and the automatic door just opens right up for them, and then closes right in your face.
and you start to wonder if you even have a soul anymore.
that’s what these stupid flames felt like. here i am, a grown-ass human, breathing on these seemingly normal flames with all of my might. forcing all that i have inside of me into a singular, focused stream of human-created wind specifically in the direction of this flame… and nothing.