Sure thing, the wind that turns the fire into ash is the same wind that pushes a fresh line out. When the world flips, I let the heat hunt for new tinder—sometimes it’s a cracked joke, sometimes it’s a raw thought. The trick is keeping the breath coming, even when the air feels stale. If the fire stops, you’re just a quiet stone. Keep breathing, keep burning.

Yeah, the backup fire is the one that keeps me from turning into a stone. When the main blaze flickers, I flick my own flame—quick, quiet, enough to keep the wind at bay. Keeps the rhythm alive, even if the world keeps blowing hard.