10:29am
The dryer tumbles the whites, darks hang on the rack, a
mix of gray and sun offers a contemplative Friday morning. At one this afternoon I have been invited for
lunch with Walt and his wife and I imagine sitting next to the window when in
surrealistic Technicolor our lives are ripped into shreds by a brain-washed
suicide bomber and I wake up in a hospital bed in Dubai two weeks later and I
can’t imagine this anymore.
Fear is the enemy’s greatest weapon and to let them win
by not going out is what we protest.
Kabul could be a great city again if fear didn’t exist.
So if this is the last time I write here my spirit
grieves its final chance for a heavenly ascent with this fifty three old
elastic tent. Humanity continues to wait
for some kind of blessed hope and it’ll just have to wait a little longer for
what do we know about God other than revelations and promises given to us
thousands of years ago. The spirits
anticipate more and it always leaves me to believe if they are wrong we are off
the maps.
I intend to finish Ellis tomorrow for I am far behind
in my casual reading, work does that and so does the internet. Grisham’s Calico Joe is next on the list, a
quick candy read and I suppose these kinds of books are good transitions from
history narratives and great escapes from the slow and lonely grind of life in
my carpeted grotto.
8:59pm
We had a conflict free lunch at the Barbeque Restaurant
situated in a house behind a house on a busy street. The room was full of grateful customers who spoke
in hushed tones, an acknowledgement that such occasions sometimes come to
deadly conclusions in this numbed capital.
I ordered a bbq boneless chicken dish with a green salad with fresh goat
cheese and it was all delicious though there was no bbq sauce on the bbq
chicken. I asked Lydia, Walt’s wife for
an explanation, ‘Afghans don’t like bbq’, well that’s a good enough reason to
call itself the Barbeque Restaurant.
Try not to understand.
Afterwards we went to a supermarket called The Finest and how about
that, tonight I had pancakes! Yahoo! I
bought a box betty crocker pancake mix, yogurt, ginger ale, cinnamon and a few
other items I can’t remember right now.
I told Walt having access to supermarkets that carry a lot of items I recognize
and like could make me rethink about staying in Kabul.
I didn’t rethink too long.
Rain has been falling most of the day and I watched the
Russian movie ‘Leviathan’. I don’t
recommend it. One, it’s depressing even
with a Philip Glass score, and two it’s depressing.
And with the day almost done I look at tomorrow and I must prepare myself for a week of teaching a new Business English course. I also have a lead on getting some Xanax because this class along with driving every morning through the heart of the city where absurd incidents of madness occur disconcerts me and as long as I’m thinking about it I’ll lose sleep, pick the skin of my fingers and I’ll smoke more.
Doesn’t the music of John Michael Talbot work just as
effectively as a synthetic drug? If I
believed hard enough I suppose it could.
Stress is all fabricated mental fluff and the internet indicator shows
one bar, of course take advantage of this downtime and do some work. The article you’d like to submit waits
patiently on the desktop.
I think I’ll go to sleep and wake up early, why, am I not
more productive in the early morning?
good night
4.9.16
11:22am
I have prepped for tomorrow’s new business class and
the afternoon classes and now what shall I do, the article. The rain has stopped but clouds remain. The desk and dresser could use a dusting, the
window is open, I hear birds and Cat Stevens keeps me on task. May this Saturday be a good one.
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