6:58pm
I was going to go in at noon but the rain fell hard all
day and hour after hour I balked until it is dark and the skittish and slovenly
hong konger is cooking and the smell of something is making me hungry but I
have to wait and dear God will I not find all the dishes dirty when I enter the
kitchen. He doesn’t care or he is
oblivious I don’t know but I will have to be like Jesus and Buddha and with a
cheerful disposition on this ratty shitty day I will wash the dishes I need to
use to make my boring ass pasta and say nothing else.
Jesus and Buddha.
Jesddha, Budus. I don’t like
either but I surely need them both because I swear at any given time of the day
one of them is usually busy comforting refugees or people far worse off than
this freaking wanker.
I also decided not to go in because next week this
telecom class will begin, what a killer it’s gonna be, two hours every morning
five days a week for three and a half weeks and am I ready? Hardly.
We emailed the syllabus I put together to our contact and haven’t heard
yet if it is what they want. Well, the
three weeks will fly and it will be May and it will be that much closer to
finishing up here. Wow, you are pretty
set, no chance of staying, ha ha ha ha ha ha, it isn’t about the money this
time, though the money was better than the Buraimi gig. This restlessness is coming from somewhere deep
and I don’t know how to turn it off.
It’s so strong I’d be willing to go right now if I could but that is
drastic, breathe John.
Breathe
Yesterday I started writing an article about my
experience in Kandahar for possible publication in an academic journal. I am ashamed of myself, twenty years teaching
and not once have you published anything academic. I’ve always wanted to publish something other
than something academic but even that want has been one lame ass excuse after
another.
If only I had someone in the flesh to encourage
me. Jesus and Buddha god bless ya fellas
but you’re bloody spirit buddies, give me a break, inspiration comes from
muses, real life animals, creatures, plants mountains what the hell do I have
outside my stinking window for the next four months? COAL.
You wanna talk depression I’m gonna cook my hand in the pasta tonight
you sonavabitch
shanti shanti
At five this evening I walked to the Zoom market and
bought Cadbury chocolate, diet coke and potato chips along with another bag of
old pasta, two cartons of milk, a carton of juice, six eggs, cheap cookies and
a single pack of Camel blues. If there
has been anything to look forward to in this beat up city is the quality and
variety of food at the campus. Last week
an excellent beef salad.
It’s quiet in the kitchen, let’s be like Jesus and
Buddha in the kitchen.
The rain falls hard again.
9:48pm
Is this good music to listen to at the end of the day,
I don’t know but I’ll turn the volume down a notch.
It is never good to imagine the worst scenario knowing
it’s usually ok, why not just assume everything is going to be ok, I wonder if
imagining the worst wakes me up, it gets me thinking, ok, it’s gets me thinking
harmful thoughts that do me no good. It
is a weakness and something I should work on eliminating. I suppose one reason I imagine the worst is
simply because whatever happens is usually good and that is a relief. If I didn’t imagine the worst and imagined
everything was going to be ok and things didn’t turn out ok I’d be so much
worse off.
Does that make any sense? Wait a second, does this argument look bipolar? I wonder if I could find ketamine around here.
Good night.
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