Sanity

And then sanity crept its way in to my head. I’m not really sure when, it was that this happened. Sanity is a bastard, its obsequious, evanescent and intractable – forever absent but hinted at, like a character in a Beckett play, until one day it does arrive, quite unexpectedly.

There is something inexplicable about the Mediterranean. I think that I will always be happy here. Something about the soft blues and greens in the sky – the angle of the Earth’s rotation to the sun and the way it hits the water. The explosion of plant life, the plants swarmed with immigrants smelling of anis and spices.

And of course, there is the matter of sanity. My desire for self-immolation seems to be quenched for the time being. It is immeasurably easy to delight in the Faustian – to swill wine, nicotine and barbiturates from the cup of chaos and to weave an identity from this. Like a man in a cheap suit that he’s slept in, it is only a matter of time before things begin to fray – and the rumbles begins to show – even if he is wearing a suit.

I now have secured a Peace Corps placement. I am off to Niger come July. I will attempt to continue this blog for the next two years of my Peace Corps service.