short

The early morning still has some purpose to it, but experience has shown that it will lead nowhere. There is a fear of the pain that the day will bring, of fruitless endeavour. But these are thoughts that will not lead anywhere either. The coffee pot is on it's second round, for a third and a fourth cup of coffee. It is not healthy, but it is nice.

The rain is falling on the wooden window sill outside, a reminder that many things on the house will not be finished as soon or as quickly as was hoped. That was the trouble with losing faith in an architect.

The thing is, a solution has to be found for this loneliness, and it is strange, because there is no solution apparent. It is better to be alone, but being alone is no answer to the problem in itself. it is just a chance to recuperate from having to deal with the surrounding situation. The strange feeling of knowing that all freedoms exist, and yet there is the feeling of being locked in, and trapped. The alarm clocks that the son has set go off for the third time, and hear him turn them off. He will probably go back to sleep now.

The light today is grey and dim, the internal feeling is much the same.

Perhaps the one has to do with the other.

A car rumbles past the window.

Today, Sunday the first of May