So there is but fire In you, in me?

 The void of space is infinite and the starlight burns my skin. The pain I experience when I leave college and my husband isn't waiting for me takes my breath away. He has gone. I genuinely don't care if he is alive or dead now. From my own, agonized point of view there is only the infinity of space above me, the cold air, Mars above the moon. Mars - always with me on this journey. My rage is incandescent. I leave the classroom, say goodbye to people, I face the black path down the hill. I fill the void with music. Puscifer on my head-phones is the only difference, the only thing separating me from the time-slip, event horizon of frozen memories. Puscifer, Arcosanti, Jerome, there is an elsewhere and I can't get there until I have finished my course... And this is how it is. 

So there I was just chatting away on Zoom and suddenly two books fell.  Heavily.  Off the shelf.  BANG!  Why two. Why any! If you ask me it feels...an unpleasant thing. I associate it with rage directed at me. Rage that belongs to my husband. Observation: My husband was angry with someone before -in the most passive aggressive way imaginable - that person found their car's windscreen smashed whilst they were in one city. Got the glass fixed, went to another city...their car window was once again smashed.  So much for my A level's in science and my Western upbringing.  Did I see it as 'psychic energy' at the time?  My friend certainly did. I neither believe or disbelieve.. That remains the same, but if you ask me.... I was telling someone about my WHM (Wim Hof method) experience; that this is the first time I've found a direct way to reach into the core of fear and teach it that things are good. This person has asthma, and the thought of breath control freaks him out