Time’s a killer

The more I wait, and the more time passes, the more it seems impossible. How will I do it? What will I say? How will I avoid panicking? Will I be able to earn money? Or will I stay poor the rest of my life? If I have kids, will I be able to take them on vacation? Surely they will be able to eat, and school is free in this part of the world. But what about music teachers? What if they get good at some very expensive hobby, and I can’t afford it because I quit my job?

Yes, I know what you’ll say. You’ll say that I’m not even pregnant yet.

I’m just trying really hard to be an adult about all this. I’m not a trained musician, so who will hire me? I don’t know any musicians here, at least no one I can work with. They are all too busy doing other stuff.

Some days all my dreams seems withing reach. Then the next day they move further and further away from me. This week I can hardly see them far away there on the horizon.

On my way home I looked at myself in the window of the metro wagon. I look old and tired. I’m wondering if things will ever change.

Soon Christmas is here. Christmas is a time for contemplation. I get over emotional in December. I dread it.

Chrismas should be spent making life


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