have arrived in the land of elks. As I did, the sun hid it's shining
face behind racing clouds, herded along by harsh winds. I have not
walked far yet, for I was still tired and arrived late. But tomorrow
I hope to be well rested, and make up for lost time.
should I say lost distance, for time eludes me here, as I have no
watch, and I would be hard pressed to tell the difference between a
darker cloud and the few hours when the sun is hidden beneath the
horizon and the light is slightly dimmer. Yes, I am lost in time.
What a strange feeling. Seldom do we get this chance, and I intend to
experience it to the fullest. I should not squander such a rare
the monotone light of the grey clouds, and the ever present lichen,
the land here seems dead, and timeless too. It is not so, I know, for
many plants and animals grow and thrive here. But for me so it seems.
Every time I stop for a short break, I feel the weight of isolation
and loneliness, of the cold, barren wilderness weight down on me.
a good soldier does not stop nor drop. A good soldier keeps walking,
and does not listen to the agonizing screams of pain from his
mistreated body. A good soldier, not to fight in any stupid war of
nazis against nazis. No. A soldier to fight for myself, against
myself. March on, trooper !
even as I sit alone in my modest tent, writing to you with loving
intent, I do have company. Mosquitos.
around trying to find a way in, trying to find a nice spot to suck,
or sitting contently on my tent-wall, their little bellies red. Red
with fresh, warm blood. My blood.
mosquitos are the nazis of the elk-lands. Not content to suck on
lovely plants, as they are wont to do when no one is around, and as
is enough for them, they attack me without mercy, not caring for the
harm they cause. All for a little personal gain. Smelling their prey
from far away, they are relentless, and do not care even for their
own lives. Stupid little twats. They shall learn to fear me yet.
my Love, the solitude. It makes you do strange things, and have
thoughts even stranger still. We do not realize how much we value
company until it is gone. But there is need for more than that to
make me turn around. I need to know, to see for sure, what it is that
lies beyond. How long before my spirit breaks ? How many days might
it well take ?
will march on, I will find out,
loneliness is all about
until I know, and without doubt,
shall march on, tall and stout.
fear, the pain, the love, the hate,
shall experience every state,
longer part the bad from good,
doing as the christians would,
world for me a playground still
I will gladly foot the bill.