Yes, I am slowly reemerging from that necessary transitional cocoon. Things are slowly but surely settling down on the home front. I can now afford to tackle work-related items. New proposals need to be drafted, new reports beg to be made, new conferences yearn to be attended, and I long to be left in peace. But Satan has better chances for entering Paradise, as the old saying goes.
How can a married with children heretical dissident from a place like Syria at times like these ever find peace anyway?
War it is then. Invade my soul, why don’t you? I shan’t lift a finger, and will plod on guided not by this illusion known as ideals, but by my basic impulses whose contradictory nature will serve as the only checking mechanism in this ongoing battle for supremacy over my shredded soul.
Caught in that infernal zone of desperation and longing that lies in between my continuing search for genial accomplishment, and the mediocre reality of my actual achievements is punishment enough for this seeming amorality. Believe me. Believe me.