Icksnay on the itingwray

“This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper.”

The powers that be put the kibosh on the posting of my daily journal entries, citing violation of operational security. I don’t think they know my journal was post dated a week in the past. Oh well. Mine is not to ask why. Mine is to do or die.

But just because I can’t post my journal doesn’t mean I’m going to stop writing. It’s become a kind of therapy for me. A quantification of the things accomplished. Without a daily journal, I will surely look back and ask what the hell it was I did here. I know this because it’s happened.

Maybe this is a good thing. Instead of focusing on writing my life in Iraq for the web, I can instead shift gears to other avenues. Truth or fiction? Screenplay? Short story? Poem? It’s a brave new world ahead folks, and I just can’t be sure.

So this isn’t goodbye, but so long, loyal jaymekohler.com fans. Both new and old. This website is taking a different direction for the next seven months than what I intended. In essence, this tour does not exist.

Think of me in some exotic locale, drinking a Margarita with no salt, no salt on the rim, on a beach with white sands. Beside my reclining bamboo chair are Coronas on ice and a crisp, clean towel. The sun is setting and I feel good. There are no crowds. No pollution. No noise. Just birds singing in the trees along the shore and somewhere on the wind, a guitar. The offshore breeze is relaxing, flowing through my toes, up my legs, and across my body. I smell ocean. Beneath it, a bit deeper, is something familiar I can’t quite place. But I’m sure I will. How long have I been here? I know only now. My mind shuffles through likely scenarios. More haze. Who cares?

She calls my name, her lithe, golden body silhouetted by a lantern’s pale glow. It’s time. And I don’t care how long it’s been.

I’m not in Iraq at all.

…to be continued

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