133. Breathing

All I do know is that my expenses are going to gradually increase as our son moves in, in a few days or weeks’ time.

All I do know is that I don’t really have enough regular customers for my webdesign-business to cover all of summer’s income needs, not to speak of the rest of the year. And that I probably have to do a lot of cold-selling to get some more, which makes me feel … cold.

All I do I know is that at this fragile point in the time of my life, I don’t really have a good plan for that single big challenge that I didn’t ‘bag’ when I was in my 20s or 30s:

To create steady streams of income, which are more than tolerably fun to make and maintain.

And the clock seems to be ticking louder and louder.

In such a situation, I only have one thing to fall back on, I suppose:


Not necessarily metaphysical faith, but just … faith.

Faith that solutions will become clearer as I gradually work to find them.

That kind of faith is important. For it prevents panic.

And I don’t need panic right now, if ever.

So I’m going to keep writing, and adding illustrations now and then.


Because it is definitely necessary for me to create and tell stories, consistently. I know that by now. Maybe it’ll lead to nowhere, financially and in other respects.

But I know it has lead me away from what I feel is my soul, every time I have neglected storytelling or tried to make it dependent on other factors. Every time I have said: ‘I shouldn’t tell stories because x, y and z’.

I should tell stories first and foremost because I have to. Like I should breathe because I have to.

Not because of money, fame, or anything else. Those things are nice, if I can associate them with storytelling, but now that all that nice planning for that has become fuzzy again, I don’t want to stop writing.

I can’t and I shouldn’t.

Like breathing.

That’s all I know for now. And it is enough.