5. An Image Under Glass

*Campfire*, you say? Did I hear someone speak? Picture this, traveler: this is a metaphor. I was tossed onto a raging campfire. It burned me up. This campfire was society. It consumed me. Now I am ashes, preserved forever in a jar. Mount Saint Helen's via Welch's Grape Jelly. God will never pardon my dust. Goddamned society wouldn't let me be myself; now God has damned me and donates in my name to *Society*.