Do you have any of these symptoms? Yes!
All of them, shit.
There, calm down, John Michael Talbot sings be not
afraid. Easy for him to sing.
I know what I can do to at least manage some of the
symptoms but last night was wretched. I
woke up fully awake at two in the morning, one symptom, upset stomach, symptom
two, exacerbated I guess by a suspect chicken salad sandwich, excessive worry,
symptom three, I can’t relax, excessive worry is a sign of lack of faith
too? No?
Compulsive behavior, that’s the hong kong dude, leaving the tv on all
the time, I turned it off last night.
Self doubt, irrational fears, symptoms four and five, how can I be a
good teacher if I don’t want to be here, it’s a terrible aura to bring into the
classroom and will I ever be ready I don’t know, it’s making me ill. As for those irrational fears, you’re fifty
three, the irrational may soon be rational because all will be done. Very soon.
It’s 9:44 in the
morning, the sun is out, no clouds, no rain for now though they’re saying it’ll
return tomorrow. In class yesterday we
were defining the word muse, in context Hitchcock and Tarantino’s muse. Nature can be a muse, did you feel better
this afternoon if you were fortunate enough to get outside?
I didn’t have any of these symptoms in Kandahar because
I used an organic medicine.
I’d like to give my 30 days notice today. Is that anxiety? Just roll the dice, unload one of your
suitcases you have too much to carry, and go somewhere, preferably a place
where you’ve already read up and can find a job. I have to work. I can’t be a hermit. I can’t wander from town to town with a bowl
of alms.
Hmm, that sounds more interesting than you’d imagine. I could start in San Diego and walk up to the
border and turn around and just keep doing this until I am good and dead.
Only in God is my soul at rest.
Well, I give my soul to God, I’ve never said God, you can’t have my
soul. Take it for God’s sake, I mean
your sake. I am not resisting. Take it, please.
God you know this soul, this other soul who manifested itself seven
years ago. This soul can’t bring peace
to my heart, it’s not its role as a guardian.
Only in God is my soul at rest.
My soul waits to be at rest because right now I’m short
of breath, Lord haven’t I asked for peace more than anything in life? I haven’t asked for riches or fame, sure
I’ve asked for love, like from someone in bodily form but that’s not in your
cards I understand already, so please today, peace. It’s time to go to the office.
6:58pm
I returned to the guesthouse with R.M, the librarian
and God bless her, she told me about a supermarket that had everything so I
dropped my bag off, grabbed all the Afs I had and went across town. She was dropped off by the drivers somewhere else
and then the two men took me to Jam supermarket and lord, I spent $70 in twenty
minutes. I got a towel! and candles! whoop de do, a pot with a lid, a
real coffee mug ( a cool red I love Afghanistan mug) and the list goes on,
Philly cream cheese, Irish cheddar, Ricola honey drops and Vics nighttime flu
medicine with enough stuff in it to knock out the perils of anxiety for a
night, canned corn, canned chili, and I thanked the drivers on the way back
with bottles of Starbucks Frappuccino’s, I mean I had to celebrate with
someone, they were appreciative.
So your spirits are good today? I don’t know but maybe listening to Talbot
this morning and praying prayers and nice weather helped lift a terrible
gloom. Buying things like candles and a
towel was good.
And driving through the city, I saw the charm of this
old place, the magnificent mosques, the old-colonial looking buildings, the
population was out and commerce was alive, new restaurants going up, hope and
an intuitive optimism to try again for a better life and that they won’t be
targeted by idiot terrorists, what potential this place has, may they turn the corner to peace and prosperity now.
Pray for Kabul and for the country and in
that light, I shall light a candle.
Let’s eat cheddar and listen to this
again:
and a final note. KU said they’d work with me and those
fingerprints. The dream is alive.
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