What on Earth is hotter than fire?

My answer would be nothing.

Why? you might ask.

It's not true, there are many things hotter than fire. Fire can only have a temperature in between about 400 degrees Fahrenheit to 9000 degrees Fahrenheit. A supernova creates a heat of approximately 100 billion degrees which is prominently hotter. A laser can burn with a temperature of 3.6 million degrees Fahrenheit. Seemingly hot. An atomic bomb detonating is much hotter, warming things up to about 13,940 degrees Fahrenheit. But, there cannot be a supernova on Earth. A laser could only exist after mankind had experimented and taken notes and the same goes for an atomic bomb. My point is that there would be none of these Earthly things if mankind had not learned to read and write.

Now, do you know what you are? You are fire!

Simply reading these words has given you fuel to burn hotter and spread further! Fire craves fuel. It's the only way you could have found me. I live in these words like a spirit or a ghost. Once you have read this, it will be done for you. Like a piece of paper with some secret information on it that a mysterious secret agent lights on fire and burns up to get rid of. The information in your brain is all that remains. This of course, depending on the material you've read, has either given you something of value or totally wasted your time. It has at least let you know what kind of things others are thinking of, whether it be fact or fiction. It has trained your eyes and mind to read just a little bit better or different or faster. When you do a prescribed amount of sit-ups correctly over a certain period of time, you will eventually form a six pack on your abdominal area. The same goes for reading and your brain.(This is like a secret message, but it's not a secret.) Reading text is like being a member of a secret society that only the intellectually privileged can become a part of. Don't believe me? Just imagine a giant public library. In your lifetime, or anyone's as a matter of fact, could someone be able to read every piece of literature inside of it. So, imagine how many libraries there are in the world which are filled with literature and add all of that reading material together. Then add all the newspapers, magazines and religious books and pamphlets anyone has ever written and in whatever language and throw them onto the pile. Put writings in stone and imprinted in gold and painted on buildings, rocks and on bus advertisements on top of that, etc. Take a guess. Do you believe your colleague, friend, neighbor, or anyone else you can think of, has ever read what you are reading right now at this very moment?

Think about this powerful, life changing message that they may never learn of unless you or someone else they know informs them about it, or they just so happen to read it on their own. They may live their next years totally in the dark, never receiving such an enlightenment. Why did you read this? I'm guessing you were curious. Why? I'm going to guess that you have an inquisitive mind. Yes, these words are generalized for anyone who reads this, but why was it you!? Simple, there is no way that a capable person would stop reading if they understood the amount of power it brought to their life. Translation: They are fire and they crave fuel. I could list all of the things reading and writing can do for a person, but you must be an intelligent person who understands or else this particular article would not be able to reach you in the first place. This is plain English that I'm writing here, but some look at it like it's ancient hieroglyphics from the days of the pharaoh.

Do I want you to read my books? Yes!!! Of course I do. I want to change you in some kind of way and then I want to be changed by your reaction, directly or indirectly. I am using a sort of mental telepathy right now and you are capable of understanding it! That is golden for any writer. For example, a dog cannot understand these words, a non-reader cannot, a tree cannot. Many people who have the ability to read such material, will not. Think about how many people there are who cannot see properly and don't know how to use braille or receive this text through audio. They cannot. Think about babies and preschoolers who haven't yet learned to read etc. This is probably a million to one chance that you are even here reading this article right now, at this very moment.

Never stop. After finishing this, pick something else out that interests you and read it. Force yourself, if you have to. Read it until you can't take it anymore and then try something else. After you've read something that you consider valuable; share it, spread it and contribute to someone else's fire. This string of actions is what I call The Pyro-Technique. Try to read something longer than a tweet. Chances are, you will find your interests and empowerments within those words somewhere and begin to enjoy it. If you too are a writer, I only ask one small favor in return. Please, when you have reached the level of success that I genuinely believe you will achieve one day, reach out and be a real writer who communicates with real words and type and let people know that I have helped you. Pay your cognitive brother a small written expression of acknowledgement where people can read it. And with that, fulfilled my life's goal of having displayed technical expertise in my trade adequate to produce an emotional or educational impact. Something I have learned from the trainings of a great teacher Mr. Orson Scott Card. This would translate in my mind as: This man has helped produce another of his kind and contributed positively to the development of present and future life. Simply meaning: My life was not completely meaningless and/or useless and I can die knowing that because hands other than mine have written, no matter how small, a testimony to it.

Every person is unique no matter what others may say. This is the exact feature that makes us all special and worthy of being heard. I thirst to exchange thoughts and ideas with others because, in the end, no one person can know everything. You will see the power slowly grow inside you as you begin to uncover what's inside of other people's minds. Most people don't write books that are full of lorem ipsum text. They are trying to communicate something to other human beings. In my opinion we are all like aliens depicted in a sci-fi film. We possess this great power to decipher symbols written by our own species and understand them. This understanding also includes human relatable emotions. Remember how long we all had to go to school in order to master this powerful ability!

Now go and spread your fire, which is the hottest thing on Earth, and witness how glorious it feels to see the world aglow!

Farewell, and may we exchange subtleties again.

James Krystalphlame

What are your thoughts on this topic? Feel free to share in the comments.

Mrs. Newheart was on her way back from the grocery store when she noticed a man climbing out of a window located in the house across the street from hers. As the man slid backwards out of the window he was grunting and sounding very displeased. He had on some old dirty jeans and an unpleasant looking tan sweater. The sweater had been ripped; probably because of grinding on the window ledge as the man attempted to exit through the opening. When he was finally standing on the ground outside of the window, Mrs. Newheart noticed a bag filled with what appeared to be golf clubs leaning on the wall of the house . It was winter and the time was approximately 6:00 pm, so the sun had already set and the entire street was dark.

Normally she would have already been inside. She had just needed a few items, and had decided to run into the store promptly after work. She wanted to hurry so she could spend some time with her husband in the evening before having to get some rest and be back at work the next day. Mrs. Newheart always kept a thin screwdriver in her purse to fix this and that when she came across things along her way that needed minor repairs. She thought she may have to defend herself with it. But, to her surprise, the man didn't seem to notice her watching him. She decided to just go quickly into her house and tell her husband what was going on. This would be wiser than attempting to call the authorities with her mobile phone out in the open where the man might see her.

Her husband asked if she could see the man’s face. She said, not clearly, because it was dark. He asked how she knew that it wasn't Mr. Sidding, the owner of the house himself. She said the person was much too tall to have been him. Mr. Newheart suggested that since they didn't have any real proof they should probably wait until the morning and watch what happens.

Morning came around, and Mrs. Newheart found herself looking out of her window from behind the curtains at the house across the street. There were strange looking vehicles now parked in front of the house. She could see a small group of people gathered on the front porch.

"I knew it!" she said. "They're coming over here now!" she shouted to her husband.

They both ran to the door and opened it. A group of people approached their veranda.

"A good day Mr. and Mrs. Newheart. We are detectives with the local police. There was a burglary in this neighborhood last night, and we were wondering if you saw anything that could help us," said one of the men.

"I surely did," she said with pride while looking at her husband.

She began to tell the detectives everything she had witnessed the night before. They thanked her for the information and told her to keep the house locked at night.

After returning from work that day, her and her husband discussed the incident up until the end of the night.

Saturday came around. A little over a week had gone by since the incident had happened on the previous Thursday. The Newhearts were outside making small repairs on their veranda when they were approached by one of their close friends and neighbors, Mr. Poacher. He was in a very good mood and asked Mr. Newheart if he would like to go golfing with him. Mr. Newheart excitedly accepted the offer. Mrs. Newheart knew that Mr. Poacher had never asked Mr. Newheart to go golfing with him before. This conflagrated her suspicions, but this man was also a priest at the local church. She could never suspect this man to be a thief. She decided to softly confront this man who wanted to take her naive husband and turn him into an accomplice. She said, "You know my husband doesn't own any golf clubs. They're too expensive for us."

"Not to worry, I can share mine until he can afford his own," replied the smiling priest as they waited for Mr. Newheart to change clothes and come out of the house again. The two men got into a vehicle and drove away.

When they came back later in the evening, Mr. Newheart told Mrs. Newheart about his game and what they had talked about. He explained to her that Mr. Poacher had loaned Mr. Sidding, who lived across the street from them, his golf clubs over a year ago. He was always trying to get them back from him, but it never seemed to work. Mr. Sidding was either at work or gone over the weekend, or actually golfing with the clubs. Mr. Poacher explained that it wasn't as if he needed the clubs every day, but when the blue moon came, Mr. Sidding always just so happened to be busy. He said he had waited so long and wanted to get on the golf course that weekend; no matter what.

Unfortunately, Mr. Sidding had other problems. He was right in the middle of remodeling the entrance ways to his house. Mr. Poacher told me he didn't care what Mr. Sidding was doing anymore; he wanted his clubs back now. The problem was that the front door way of Mr. Sidding's house was under construction, and it was impossible to enter or exit through. The back door of Mr. Sidding's house also happened to be rusted shut, which was one of the reasons why the remodeling was happening in the first place. Mr. Sidding told Mr. Poacher that he could hand the clubs out of the window to him if he came over. Mr. Poacher said he would come by in the evening, but didn't know exactly what time because he had some business to attend to at the church beforehand.

It turned out that Mr. Poacher had apparently popped up at another very bad time for Mr. Sidding, because when he got there in the evening, Mr. Sidding just so happened to be in the middle of holding up a support beam with another man in the entrance way of his home while a third person attempted to fasten it into place.

Mr. Poacher went on explaining how Mr. Sidding had shouted out to him that he could wait a while longer, or come in through the window if he could, and really needed to. He also told me the burglary that the detectives had inquired about happened a few blocks away from this one. The rest is history.

After finally understanding what had really happened, Mrs. Newheart began to laugh at herself; thinking she had gotten all worked up over nothing. Mrs. Newheart told her partner she was ready to retire for the evening. She went into her restroom so she could make use of the mirror. She reached into the back of her throat with her thin yellow screwdriver and tightened up the two small screws which held her voice box in place. She'd been talking an awful amount and they’d begun to vibrate loose. She then entered a dark room and sat in her favorite charging chair. Upon linking to it, she became completely stiff and her eyes changed into a laser-red color. Her entire body remained motionless with the exception of her eyes which continued to scan the area for intruders.

The End

It's not your fault you are fighting.

You are fighting because that's how nature works.

You were manifested from the fight of nature.

To sustain your existence, constant fighting forever is required.

That's how your D.N.A. is made up.

Think about a single sperm.

The only choice it has from the beginning is to fight through or die.

You were that sperm that survived. The only one out of millions.

Now the only two questions you can ask yourself are:

How hard are you going to fight ?

How long are you going to fight ?

James Krystalphlame

#jameskp

Upon entering out of the harsh winds, it is evident that no one else is here. The evening

twilight is setting in. The room is dimly lit with only faint light coming through the

windows to assist visuals. The wind is blowing heavily outside. Scraps of debris, dirt and

leaves thrash against the outside walls because of its force. The powerful sound of the

wind twisting the structure's wooden frame echo throughout the eerie interior and create

a slight concern for the stability of the structure. As wind whips around the outside

extremities of the structure, a gut-wrenching howling sound is emitted in various tones

and pitches.

You quickly reach over to the light switch to flick it on.

Dammit!

It doesn't work. Electricity must be knocked out. Not to worry, you have a flashlight in a

drawer. Hopefully the batteries are still good.

You walk over to the drawer, slowly and partially blind and get the flashlight out. You

hurry to switch it on but it's dim and you can still barely see. You slap it a couple of times

but that's not helping much. You hear another slap sound that you didn't make coming

from further away. You freeze and become completely silent as you listen as hard as you

can for the noise to repeat itself; but it doesn't. You figure it was just an echo of what you

where just doing and try to forget about it. This has all been taking time and the twilight

is starting to darken completely. You have to think quick. You remember you have some

decoration candles on the kitchen table but where's a lighter or some matches? Oh yes,

you remember that drawer with all the miscellaneous crap in it; there must be one in

there. On your way to get it, you hear the front door obviously open and let a burst of

wind in and finally slam shut. It startled you but also relieved you because you knew who

it was. After digging around in the drawer for a minute the flashlight burns out. You grab

the lighter and shout, "I'm coming, had to get something to light some candles, can you

believe this storm?!

No one answers and you instantly know something is wrong. You slowly, carefully and

quietly feel your way back to the table. The room has become pitch black without even

the smallest light from the weak flashlight. You put the palm of your hand on the table

and slide it forward to try and feel where the candle is. In it's near, the air around your

hand becomes warmer than where you were standing. You feel the candle and then grab it

with a trembling hand. You click the lighter once and it creates a spark but it does not

light. On your next try, the flash brightens up something very large that is quietly sitting

at the table and watching you with a very large smiling mouth full of blood-soaked, razor-

sharp teeth and a knife and fork planted in each of its hairy beast-like paws...

One day I went into the bathroom to do my duty and noticed a spider crawling on the wall above the toilet. I tried to scoop the spider up with a piece of newspaper that I had planned on reading at the time. I wanted it to crawl onto the paper so that I could open the window and shake it off outside. I didn't want to kill it, I just wanted to set it free. While I was doing this, it bolted down the paper towards my arm scaring me so bad I almost slipped and fell. While trying to keep my balance I ended up stepping into the hard porcelain toilet causing the water to splash everywhere. I almost broke my leg. The spider got away of course and I never saw it again. It was extremely painful and my leg swelled up all the way down to my foot. I put some ice on my leg and had to stay in bed the rest of the day. People told me I'm crazy and they would have never hurt themselves for a spider. Am I crazy? What would you have done? Has anything so bizarre ever happened to you? Let me know in the comments.

I know that I am a very strong person with a matching character and I see and respect your strength as well. I acknowledge our similarities and will try to show patients when I don’t understand our differences. I hope to enjoy a large number of you as colleagues and collaborators but let’s be truthful; there can only be a handful of us. I would ask you kindly to bow out now because I am fire and wouldn’t want to see you harmed in any way. If you refuse, I will understand because I am like you; a competitor, but make no mistake, I will compete. @ajrfanz