enough internet research for the morning. but it’s helped get my mind off my heart and my heart off the sorrow. it’s become a new routine to come to the cafe before yoga. it helps my heart. the music, the sound of people, life, everywhere, life. out of my home right away after breakfast. last night the mail boxes in my building were broken into. is this a home? i am unsure of why the place i stay for the longest amount of time is the most unsafe place. mirrors. i feel safe though. it’s all in the mind. i am a walking dichotomy right now. i want to run both away and toward people. sick of talking about stones and yet obsessed with them. too much in my head and not in my head at all. blah. i need love that is not coming right now, and must do my self generating thing instead, and transcend the animal desires into spiritual mastery, you betcha. strength is mine and it matters to my soul, even though the animal sheds her tears and sings to the moon to bring her the love that honors her needs and his in harmony. back to yoga again, it continues to feel that good, even after being pissed at it, and i think this is like a great love too…sometimes you need your space…but you can only take it when the needs are fulfilled…and yoga fulfills. i got that and this book i am suddenly writing. and friends who continue to love me and my moodiness. and people are dying under the guise of religion and patriotism, when really, it’s just the elite orchestrating it to be that way, using people, using their death. fucking breaks my heart. i feel the swell of sorrow take me. but i am a warrior, and it is back into warrior mode. it just is. i am just this. for now. a little more balanced. got the morning cafe writing thing to sweeten. do as much as i can before evening. oh evening how i wish you were different. oh wish wish wish, wishing for a new home, a house, a place big enough to paint big, a mate that is mutual yes, an animal to pet, a tomato plant to grow, a lily to sniff….a quietude and happiness. back around to the quest and transcendence. if i did not have this book, i would be toast. it’s saving me. desperation turns to creative out pour. channeling and opening hidden doors. hall and oats on the speakers. cold brew in the blood. amber and vanilla soaked medicine bag. downward dog on the rise….