Succession

Last night, my dreams were the freight train that runs through Downtown Orlando at 3 A.M., seemingly endless and frustrating, because all you want to do is get somewhere that's comfortable. Each boxcar representing some event, either from the past or as of yet unfulfilled. And though I outwardly have almost no anxiety regarding H., clearly, I do so internally and she was the tether binding one scene to the next. Even though, I am trying to accept each day as it presents itself and not look for horizons, my mind will in the end, do what it does with or without me. This may also be the results of weaning myself off of anxiety meds, in fact, I am electing that as my resolve and resuming my normal activities. Keep messing with me brain, I have pencils now.