Hate to Be a Firework

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I’d hate to be a firework.

All of that prep.

All of that time spent preparing for that moment.

The anticipation.

The careful dedication to get that firework just right.

The planning.

The syncornicity.

Then…

It’s over.

In a second.

The Ooooos and Aaaaaaas DONE!

That moment comes then goes. In a heart beat.

You fade into memory.

Fuck that.

I want to shine, to impress, to impact much more than just a few seconds.

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