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Painting, beer and great conversation outside, now out of the rain for a few minutes, then back out for BIG Saturday to live paint...

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H.A.N.

Women need the art, poetry, music, and creative safe spaces more than the men. #period
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I turn on my car to find two lights on the dash. On the right, the check engine light and on the left, the empty gas tank light. As I roll over the bumps in my apartment complex, the gas light dims and disappears for a few seconds. It lets me know that there's still a bit sloshing around in there. I open my g-mail to find an e-mail from my ex. The air around me began to fizzle and my heart paused as I read. It lets me know that there's still a bit sloshing around in there. <|3
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Like water my son...

Everything feels so fluid. I feel as if I'm in the middle of whitewater rapids, standing. As if I'm just standing there, muscles tight and twitching; standing against this great force of nature. The water swirls and crashes all about me. It's so hard to think. My thoughts feel like the rapids. Attempting to hold onto a single thought is like trying to hold the nature that surrounds me. But there I am, standing against. I don't know if I should move. I'm afraid to take a step. I'm afraid to even unclench a single finger. And I don't know if it's out fear that once I let go, once I let my muscles relax, once I take the first step that I will be swept away. Or if fear that once I try to move, that I'll continue to stand against the flow.
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