“Free Life v. Meaningful Life, In Motion”
One night at a tavern, about one year after Sebastian arrived first in Cuba, then Russia, then Iraq and then Syria, Maria with shot tray affixed around her neck began a casual conversation with Sebastian, who looked slightly drunk if not slightly crazed. Yes, he looked like a terrifying mad man. He had just gotten in a stupid fist fight and almost been asked to exit. Maria drew him over to a small table, though on duty as shot girl she remained an inquisitive journalist. The Bulgarians never really expelled him from that tavern.
Tell me about the civil war. A little bit, enough to have a sense of what anyone is supposed to do about you or your friends who came back to us.
More good was done than evil. I’m sure the others killed more Jihadists and I did more medical care, but it was all a group effort. But really, most of my friends survived the war. The Arabs and Kurds are just going to grind away until Turkey rolls in to squash the revolution.
So, you are aware Afrin is almost completely over run and Mambij is next and the Turkish army will probably undo all if any progress you all had made?
I don’t sleep anymore. I use combinations of masturbation, drinking and drugs to put the lights out, I guess some emphasis on the drinking too. I get it. We all died or almost died or didn’t die and it was all for nothing. I get it. And Polina and I never saw each other again, and I writhe in pain avoiding my face in the mirror.
Prosto! You need a whore! Someone to pay to love you. Not me, I’m too much for you. I want luxury carrots remember, not paintings or poems. The couple times we eye kissed, it just makes me pity you a lot. You’re basically not a man to me. You have no car, no property and for right now no ability to move beyond your own paralysis.
Neyet Prosto. Not simple. I need a revolver so I can restively and decisively shoot myself in the head like a man! That will be enough. I should have died with my friends in Afrin. Do you even possess the understanding to know what was on the table there? Do you even have the care? They were liberating the women, they were instituting a democracy and they were planting trees. I feel like I briefly defended a utopia, only to be cast out.
Prosto! Go back to the begging of the narrative and explain me your motivation! Tell me how your mission began and the connection between your ideas on free life verses a meaningful life in motion. Be, fucking linear! Tell the tale from beginning to end instead of dancing around like a crazy person.