i finished a book about physics but love really though. about how gravity acts on us, how we affect each others center of gravity. how we orbit one another how we are pulled by another's gravitational field and pull one another into ours. 
i remember sitting in front of the cast iron wood stove in the shack on gabriola with the door open. uncle mike said i was wasting wood and heat, true, but i felt that i wanted to pass my seething feelings of despair into the red heart of of the arbutus. it didn't work i suppose but i was not able to even sit in a room with people, especially him. i think i have sabotaged myself repeatedly, even while i seek my saving grace.
that uncle who messed with my head and body is long gone now and i'm older than him. he criticized my negativity but died of his own seething fire ill expressed in cancer. i remember his face making words, why so negative? 
i know there are different people with different kinds of gravity. but the dead ones still have theirs like death stars, black holes.