The fear. There is fear. I have the tools now to turn my life around. I have the ingredients, and there is fear. Once I put these ingredients into the bowls and begin the concoction, there is always the possibility the bread won’t rise, la tarte won’t flambée. What happens when, after it all, it doesn’t work? Who and what do I blame then? If it is not a chemical imbalance or a person’s fault, then is it up to me, finally? What happens when I have to answer for myself?
Part of a routine – Doing a routine
wearing the same pants
Pen in the pen pocket
Is that what it is this ‘adulthood’ you talk so much about?
Another piece of the puzzle other peg in the picture.
Don’t fight the system.
Be the system.
And you will stabilize.
So now what.
do I sacrifice art for my stability?