grief is a mysterious thing how it has it’s agenda and there is no emotional control. manic all day yesterday that’s how the grief came out. his focus on work got me focused on work in the morning. then talk talk talk about it. vajra big hugs hash hour after. just a moment alone but emailing the whole time. out with a friend talk talk talking about it all night long. talking talking talking, manic. the one thing i feel is love so strong. like iron burning, like a star more than ever, not in my control either, like the more the nightmare increases the more love i feel, like i was made to be plunked into the deepest underworld places to glow like this glow worm, the glow worm the glow worm, only here to love love love love. mania still present. connecting a necessity. in this together. hardly sleeping. not too much into eating. can i get on my mat this morning? taking the dog for a walk, i would never deny my dog that. desire to not use periods to have some place to be free even if only in these typed sentences and my soul, where freedom is innate and forever, not something that can be taken or given. in the realm of the physical they can take, but the physical is the biggest deal. this is supposed to be a precious life and that’s why thieves steal. letters from the underworld: dear light, i am still here wrapped in plastic and being sold on a shelf in a big store where there are so many and we’ve forgotten how to feel. learn to be articulate. face the fears and enter this. a cave. a round opening and walkway down down down. glossy steps wet with emotional mess. slime and regret and everything lost turned to wetness, cold on the bare feet. shiver up the spine. red walls. i hear the divine breath guide. come to the bottom. a red door. maharaji’s picture on it. open it. step through into darkness with a bulbous moon over the sea. i am naked and dive in immediately. a little boat comes bobbing over. men in a business suits asking me to sign something. i laugh and slip into the water, away from their agenda. they cannot have me. deep down in the water i feel the beckoning of a sea dad. the real masculine rejected by the patriarchy. sitting alone on his throne dejected. pan. horns. ugliness. claws. he is still telepathic. these parts of ourselves don’t just go away. the lives all at stake. no more stability. safety wiped away. uniting. can we? what is the real threat? ignorance. not a person, ignorance. because ignorance allows it to happen. is the will stolen? who stole it? where is your will? fire drill at school. everyone is told what to do, to act orderly, to stay calm. false alarm. when my apartment burned down in portland i stayed calm but it was cause of disbelief more than anything. i put my shoes on and got my purse, slowly walked downstairs and outside only to look back and see my home burning. oh, there it is. i got manic then too. was on the news manically talking about it. friday the thirteenth pranks. personalities like dead meat hanging in a cooler. whales singing the tune of mother earth. yes, mother earth this time. when it was father earth we were in another era. i come from the old era. i am hiding inside this one, always remembering how the same thing happened then too. it does not go away until it is healed. we have to heal it. we have to see what it really is. sing the bowl and chant the name that puts you in the center of yourself. the return of agency to the target. agents allying. skills being learned. hearts busting open and gushing when the voice is not heard. tales from the nightmare. tales from the myth on repeat. my head hurts. time to have something to eat.