kundalini yoga is taking me over. today i added it to a self led vinyasa. did that first and it opened up all my muscles, joints, strengthening my endurance and putting me in a meditative state in the lower chakras. then did kundalini after and went into a meditative state in the upper chakras, focusing on breath work and opening the subtle bodies. i feel fucking great like a crystal clear lake. very energized. happy. happy just from being. missing mom a lot. i keep thinking about getting a tattoo in her honor. first a bird. then i thought about her portrait but in my head i felt like she said, “don’t tattoo my face on your body.” something though. something. weird dreams last night probably from watching the show i am hooked on. royal pains. i think about how my mom said she would have become a doctor if she had followed her dream. i think about how i wanted to be a doctor when i was little. i think about how when she was going into the coma days before her death, i could do nothing medical. my sisters took on the job of medicating her and changing her. i was paralyzed with fear and could not function with the medical tasks. maybe it wasn’t fear as much as it was shock and sorrow. not sure. those days live like a terrible blur inside of me. i know it was traumatizing for us all but also a great blessing and gift at the same time. i wouldn’t have had it any other way if it has to be cancer’s death. cancer’s death can go fuck itself. i still cry for my mom’s last years and journey through that illness. i trip out on how i got the call in summer of 2017, on the bus to my internship. that’s when she told me that she had cancer for the first time. i balled in the office of a clinician and stayed at work. i did not understand that in less than two years from that moment my mom would be dead. none of us did. my dad the most in denial up until the very end. it’s brutal. the amount of love in our family makes it harder too. even if we have had our share of dysfunction and mental illness, we are all unconditionally loving to to maximum degree. the love is strong. i think grief has put me in a place in life where i either want to be alone or be with a partner. not much into friend time. not in the mood to hang out. not in the mood to “do things” i just want to work, paint, write, read, be with my partner and see friends in small doses, a two hour window from time to time, to catch up. i feel myself pulling away. i am not the same anymore. not being able to eat and drink like the hedonist i was makes it no fun too. i guess we all go through big lifestyle and personality changes from time to time. i honestly dream about spending hours writing in my solitude bubble but i feel like i need to be with my partner to do it. because i just need touch and closeness and to feel myself move through life with another. i don’t need lots of hang time. i keep stressing this, this week. like, a lot. why? maybe it’s temporary. this is why i desire to run away sometimes. i want to be all alone sometimes. but not all alone. i want a few close people. just not the dozens. i cannot manage the people much anymore. i am detached like a bird in the sky.