The Well

I'm like, "If I write on Uptrust, what will I write about for my other stuff?" Ugh. That thought is poorly shaped. I believe the shapes of our thoughts create us back. That thought is telling my mind to format like a finite well. I'm telling my mind to not be open to there being enough things to write about. I can't do the thing where I write about something relevant to the world. Or can I? I'm asking Troy, "Name something that's happening in the world." He replies, "War in Ukraine." My brain says, "You don't know anything interesting to say about this." I met a lot of Ukrainians when I was in Europe. I made love with one in Copenhagen and tried to flirt with two straight ones in London. I was just following my attraction and then they were both so great. Brian told them a story of being in Ukraine and they lit up. I can't imagine being at war. I thought there was a consensus that we shouldn't do that and anybody that did that would hear everybody else say, "Stop that." I'm tired of forcing my opinions into boxes. I just thought that "Stop that" was the plan and now other things are happening. My efforts to stop the war are pretty much just being prone to making love to Ukrainian men. It's a kind of tie-breaker for me. I make love to them and hope some butterfly effect is battling a tide. "Once more into the breach" would be too much as an ending. There's a war somewhere. I am so sad. I am tempted to be ashamed that I make love with sadness. I am glad that I make love when I feel helpless. I'm formatting my mind to say exactly what it's seeing and when I get to the place where I'm not supposed to look, look a few more times. That's the place where I remember the infinite well.