Dear readers (all sixteen of you),
I will stop posting for some time, I don’t know for how long.
I have confirmed by now that I can hardly convey the ugliness, absurdity, inanity, frustration and tedium of my life here without sounding dandyish, standoffish or unreasonably intense — i.e. both a whiner and a curmudgeon. Those in the know simply refuse to see the point, those having nothing to do with the Outpost could not possibly see the point. If one of the purposes of writing is to convey to the reader something beyond their immediate experience and what they are familiar with, then I have obviously failed.
I have also realised it is unreasonable to talk about more intimate situations and affairs I have inside knowledge of without damaging people. I by now exercise extensive self-censorship, which is taxing. As a friend in Corfu exclaimed, by now I am totally entrenched in the place here — well, as entrenched as someone not married to a local (hallelujah!) can get: you know the kind of guy who gets invited to embassy parties and writes in newspapers (this is what happens to mediocre fish in tiny ponds, mind you). Gossip does not come for free any more.
On a personal level, I am so tired of life here, I can hardly distance myself from it (and writing is also about distancing oneself), let alone make fun of it any more. I have no stamina left to sit down and write about the closed Outpost society and all the petty things that make my life unsavoury here. Jod said we have wasted our prime here, I increasingly get the feeling this has a crippling effect on me regarding my capability to write about this waste.
So long, then, and see you later. To the readers having arrived here seeking a definition of the ‘Cancelled without prejudice’ stamp on their visa (all hundreds of you), our blog will continue to provide this service completely free of charge.
Tarra.
L.
