creation

odd calm today. Work is dull and I have already plowed through the paper. But my story ideas are coming back to me. I need to write them down. But fear. Always fear. Perhaps I will write them down and then what? I am afraid of this calm, the laughs and the lack of anxiety. What do I do now? Without a all-possessing pain? I am left with an empty that longs to be filled. But what with? Do I want to go back to my old habits, my old life, my yesterday self? No

But what is left? And where can I forge my way? What can I create? How can I create a self from all this rubble? The scraps of all I used-to-but-hated to be? I don't know. I guess I am going to have to ride this through. Pick up the old roles and disinfect.

"The opposite of war isn't peace, it's creation."