i am not safe when my safety is designed by somebody else.
especially if that person designs my safety in a way that makes them feel safe.
that imposed safety is a form of violence.
because of COVID-19 and the fact that i might loose my housing on June 30, 2020,
i feel closer to death.
i know i have to surrender to my intuition.
i try to release old trauma.
i try to release old habits.
i get rid of old material stuff.
i think of repressed desires for resolve.
before i die, i would like that Nick Torok and i acknowledge that we were not ready.
is that exactly what i want?
i try to accept change.
i understand safety in a different way.
wind and arrows fill the space between my bones.
my skeleton extends even more out of balance.
no housing is not an option.
no community is not an option.
i work all my energy to save our housing.
i worry about getting sick.
i worry about safety procedures.
i worry about my parents in Switzerland.
and then, i discipline myself towards allowing myself to love a wheel:
sound of a new 27 inch wheel before balancing the tension of the spokes and truing the weel
same wheel during the truing process
next time it will be louder.