Things haven't been going so well. I was kicked out of the Kabul after another drunken incident. I deserved it but I can't explain what happened. I'm living in a one bedroom flat that was reasonably priced, not too far from my new place of employment. Each day I dress up in a vintage suit and bowler hat, head out to Las Ramblas to be a statue. My patience has helped me to remain still for so long and while the money isn't great it will get me by until I find something more permanent.



I stare at myself in the mirror for hours, frozen in time, dark hair and green eyes. I don't recognize the face staring back at me. I'm not the guy who starts fights in a bar, blacks out and wakes up in someone else's bed the next day. I'm not the guy who yells at everyone and takes off. The person in the mirror is lost, disconnected, and incomplete. I don't know who I am anymore. I can't say to myself this is what you stand for, this is where you came from. All I can do is say this is not what you are, and hopefully after a long enough period I'll be able to recognize myself again.



Sed