Somewhere On a Grassy Knoll
Middle of Ukraine
I’m not getting much sleep. I never do, but this is less sleep than normal. On a break after watching the sunrise, leaning against my pack watching the sunrise. The power supply is intermittent at best, but the internet works like a charm, for whatever reason. As usual, I’m playing on Twitter and Facebook to keep my mind out of here. At 9am, our hosts pile us in a van and will take us to another site to inspect. Russian materiél, Ukrainian materiél, a fucking Middle Eastern-style iPhone charger as proof of banned weaponry. This is all a joke and a bad dream.
At least I’m out of here and back to semi-reality in a day or two. There’s too much noise about certain possibilities and as guests, they want to keep us safe, which means out of the country.
I’m done with all of this, in more ways than one.
I wasn’t feeling well when I came, and everything has multiplied to become worse. The headaches, the nosebleeds and the bleeding from my ears, the coughing for no explainable reason. It sounds worse than it is, I hope. I keep all of this to myself. I’d rather deal with my own doctors in New Orleans where I can begin the slow process of fixing all of this that I was supposed to start last November. For many reasons I won’t go into here or anywhere, I haven’t. I need surgeries and medication adjustments, physical therapy and rest. If the opportunity to take a year off is constantly presenting itself, it must be a sign, and I’ve gotta follow it.
Writing is therapeutic; I’ve always admired the power of the written word, or performances given by more talented people than I. Concentrating on that has to be my goal. I can work, but not doing what I’ve been doing. It’s time to take a different path.
Back soon. Until then, I’m enjoying the relative peace and quiet, with my iPad here on a grassy knoll in the middle of somewhere.
