We fly so close

Icarus flew too close to the sun, testing the limits of his powers, and got his wings burned, falling to Earth.
I'm not even close to the Sun, and my wings are not melted yet. But...
I'm just having my usual personal crisis of confidence. It's kind of a coping strategy. And I should know better than to convince myself that it has a quick fix. It's just a part of life. And comforting to know that I really have something to lose and something to fight for.
And something to fight against. I actually have the offer of a job waiting for me should I be forced to return home. And a few good friends. But, as someone pointed out recently, I have a massive failure complex. Having high achieving parents (and grandparents) seems to have done that.
So the only option? To not fail.
Oh, and one of my Christmas/birthday presents was money for a new camera. Arty shots coming your way...
Oil on the canal...

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