I'm having difficulty writing of late. The internal censors are fully engaged, and for some reason I'm being hyper-vigilant about not causing upset. It is the calm before the storm, perhaps. Wishful thinking. Wind and rain are generally not the most apt metaphors for my world. I move like the earth. The mountain is a stable edifice until the violence that lies deep within is unleashed. Perhaps a subtle shift for me, but what happens when the earth moves?
I have a hard time accepting change. I have even more difficulty with uncertainty. I can see both.