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Logbook to the middle ages. I

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For the last year I have been, once again, subject to the almost unbearable torture of not existing to the world. I have been continuously, exclusively, maniacally looking for a job that has not come through. The experience is not a pleasurable one and it affects you in ways that are hard to describe.
One of them is the constant worry about finances. If I may detour, one thing that I hate is what people call “popular knowledge” and its offspring, its sayings. One of them in Spanish states that “God may choke you, but he will not strangle you”. It is a rough translation meaning that times might and likely will get tough, but not lethal. The problem is that I have already seen God strangle, in a way close to a medieval inquisitor imposing his prongs and cutters on a heathen, one of my friends. And I know of stories of others that have had their necks wrangled like a turkey the day before thanksgiving.
So, coming back to the issue at hand, one thing about these droughts of income is the constant worry about finances. The bank account slowly transforms from dollars into rupees, the bill at the supermarket seems bigger and bigger, and my way of coping with that is: clamp.
Simply shut down life to the point of a vegetative state.
But even the most dedicated sadist eventually needs a break. Eventually, the most thorough torturer has to go to the bathroom or wants to get some food or simply needs to take a nap or go file his tax form. Even that famous God that will not strangle you decides there are other necks to wring, other kneecaps to split on a rack, other souls to slowly grind to powder. And so it is that I contacted a friend just to say hello, he said he needed a break from his job and would I be interested in taking his place between the grinding stones and between one thing and another I find myself back in the game, a 150 pound shrimp playing a game in the NFL and getting ready for that first big hit that will most likely dislocate every bone in my upper body.
And I am once again at an airport in Europe, another lost soul connecting to a distant place, knowing that I am on my way but not knowing when I shall return.
Destination: the middle ages. Which will certainly look better than what my future was looking like if I did not land this gig.

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Updated 07-22-2019 at 02:04 AM by ponchi101



  1. Ti-Amie's Avatar
    "When one door is closed another is opened."