This is the film inside this writer's mind

Irrational fears, part two, six months later.

The city seems strangely quiet today. The cloudcover acts as a mute, making noises at standard level sound somewhat hushed. Today is a blindfold day, Patti.

I don't know what I'm doing. I feel like I'm wasting my time and wasting my life. I don't want to work in an office anymore. I want to write, but I'm not sure what. I don't know how to get where I want to go. I feel things might come to a breaking point soon, but I fear that might just be wishful feeling. I feel like I'm not doing anything good, like I've not done anything good. Like I only think I'm special and different, only think I'm destined for greater things, but really I'm not.

What, after all, separates me from all the other drones in this city, in this world? Aren't we all just ants in a great dream God is dreaming?

I know I must stay positive and think positively. I'm not so good at that.

The ground is rumbling now.
                                                      A large group of people is shouting on the steps of City Hall.
                A small jazz band has started playing.
                                                                                                  The sun is out.
                  The clouds have parted.


Mute is off.