that flighty temptress.

I am adventurer.

I have a thirst for adventure that is not quenched but merely satiated for the time being. A flame that cannot be put out and suppression brings only explosion. The only way to control the flame is to let it consume its surroundings for a while, then when the fuel runs out it returns, burning brightly. The adventure always starts in that moment of scheming, you know, when you are with “your boys” and there’s nothing to do today or tomorrow. We sit around for a second, then a moment later the familiar gleam comes into our eyes. It drives me to those late nights, searching for trouble, walking that thin line between law and crime, between hero and villain. Admittedly each side appeals to me—it is the middle ground, the place where I usually stand, that I detest. It’s why I laugh in the face of danger, embrace it almost, not to prove my worth, but for the joy of actual danger itself, that facing my fears, this danger, head on gives me that thrill of being more than human, for a split second. It is the brief rush of imagined power, that for a second I am more than what I once was. Hero or villain, each title is an image of something denotes power.

So feeling half-god, half-man I give chase to adventure, going out with “the boys,” my comrades. And not only that I chase the adventure in the moment, but that I am looking for the adventure of a lifetime. Something that will last me till the day my breathing fades something that will be dangerous, perilous and marvelous all at the same time. I look for this adventure, I yearn for this adventure and until I find it, these little moments will have to do for now.

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