My duffle bag!

My duffle bag is ripping
Orange fabric straining to hold together
White cotton poking through the seams.

The bottom of my duffle bag was once a bright orange to match the sides.
And now the bottom is the brown of the dirt on the roadside

How do I describe the particular joy in burning out?
Kind of like how in hitch hikers guide to the galaxy they describe flying as "falling and missing"
I can't decide whether the feeling in my stomach is excitement or dread.
The reason they call it burning out is that the flame is so bright.
And you hope that maybe the burns will be superficial.
That the light is worth the pain.
Because you know you can't tear your eyes off the flame.

And my duffle bag is falling apart and I am falling and missing and one of these days something will hit the ground.