my heart’s exploding from tonight’s workshop all about heart opening. why, uni, why? you open me and then send me right to the conversation with the barista about the sexual injustice of that country he visited. it took me down. down down down. i faltered, and could not recover. sorrow with no relief for what’s happening. misplaced my crown. cannot control the feelings. anger for how they say it’s just culturally different. tried to zone out with popcorn, bad move. listening to kd, helping, i guess. can anything help but change? slayed, i get. and see no way out. please, help me make it stop, and keep me safe, can both happen at once? damn survival programming. damn the spikes of fear. and i’m not a fighter. i’m a lover. what do i do? arjuna? look at me luxuriating in options. crazy inside that my luxury to contemplate how i feel, is their rationalization that it’s just the way it is, and we both suffer. they never know different, neither do we. it’s all been culturally appropriated and divided. kept separate. don’t let hurt make you blame, though. pull it back in. ebb back to love, remembering all is happening to learn and change and grow. i cannot help my rose colored heart. discern don’t judge. lime and vanilla on the wrist. rhada’s joy. can i allow myself to feel it? it’s what is meant to be. why’s it so hard? i am like a freaked out puppy and a zoomed out brain watching the freaked out puppy, lovingly saying, “and this too shall pass.” i keep saying stout is my replacement man. should i be doing this? strong and earthy. rich and solid. dependable. sweet undertones. there for you anytime. comparing a man to beer, is this like comparing a woman to a car? it doesn’t feel shallow like that. would you rather spend twenty hours in a port-a-potty that just exploded, or twenty hours in a small room with an angry cobra? i am curious. two so far, say, the cobra. i am so scared of both answers, i don’t answer. the shaking puppy in the corner, again. but with a heart like golden cinnamon….