Its before dawn and Christian just left for work. Moussolini is calling out to the last part of the darkness. I’ve cracked the shades so I can keep an eye out for the sunrise. Yesterday the early sounds of wind and rain kept good company. This morning is silent – or feels quiet with the usual house noises. The water pump and the stop and go of buses. I am alone with my thoughts. I woke up with a million things boiling over in my head. I am hoping that writing will help relieve some pressure. Give it somewhere to go.

But now that my fingers are at the keys… the are stuck in the same paralysis that has gripped me these last few weeks. I am not sure how to explain it. Just a familiar stuck. The grip of inaction when left to my own devices. And still I am scared to be pushed back into the chaos of school. Maybe I will learn to love its demanding nature…

We laid in bed and talked about the future last night. Landed at the inevitable mystery and accepted it for what it is. We fantasize about security but will keep taking risks. Its easier because we have each other. And who knows what will happen next.

I felt an undercurrent of fear well up in my gut. Suddenly more aware of the gamble of letting the skills I can sell atrophy while I search for other passions. They seem more allusive every day and meanwhile work is harder to come by. Passion is usually my horse and my buggy. Usually it can carry me through all the uncertainty. But now it seems to turn to dust at midnight.