Story of

I was making something to eat this morning and I was overtaken. Overtaken by the same feelings ive been writing about for months.

and I still don't know where to go. Im still scared. Is it possible to feel courage push whilst fear squeezes?

and I haven't given up. I know Im holding on.

scene opens: city street..mid-day... slow motion.. woman walking her long hair moving around her...and everything that could be said about determination and about being wounded....is captured in her stride. And Mogwai's Christmas Song is the narrator...and everytime she reaches up to move her hair out of her eyes...the song starts again...

because she never seems to get anywhere.

place. a place. her place. the place.

Im looking at all four sides of the box I live in. everytime the rain falls..the structure is compromised...

..and the red rope falls from someplace high...

don't you want to know..what happens next?

peace