Dear reader...

Dear, Dear reader,

I would like to share with you a few thoughts on my present situation, as an almost-unemployed citizen of the glorious and God-Blessed US of A. The use of the term almost-unemployed stems here from a couple of hours of yoga instruction at you know where, and if you don't and want to know, just let me know. As to that passing reference relating to geopolitical positioning, well we’ll just have to leave it for another time. The above mentioned couple of hours, however, represent the extent of my current contribution to society‘s immediate well-being. Of course, there is the writing, but I‘ll get to that later, and in due time.

Meanwhile, let us stick to palpable matters, i.e., the fact that my bank account is suffering from a condition where its content is flowing one way and one way only -that way being rather out than in. One would think that such a trifle issue wouldn’t be worth an inveterate dreamer’s attention, but as it happens, in this case, this case being no different from any other, the dreamer’s world, has the frustrating habit of switching to mainstream reality -the nerve.

Thus, and although this might sound awfully unbelievable, your once carefree -carefree as you might be inclined to deduce is used loosely- servant, here, has began suffering of an unpleasant condition known in layman’s terminology, layman's terminology is used at this juncture, and from now on, for the sake of clarity, as stress. Yes, dear friends, stress -notice the ominous presence of three ss in the referred-to condition. “Stressed, I am,” might just be my new motto, or as I prefer describing it, ‘cri de guerre‘.

Suspecting that some of you might try to interject their wisdom at this very point, by coolly remarking, “Not all stress is bad”, I will go ahead and nod, thus creating the false impression that I am in agreement with this nobly-empowering (or whatever attributes you might want to associate to such a remark) yet completely inadequate statement. Of course, you are not to blame your naivete, or should I say lack of insight, my dear, dear by-now-wondering-where-is-he-going-with-this-one reader. For how could you know the extent of my ‘angoisse’? And in passing, notice the use of French words for the purpose of creating an air of philosophical depth -have I fooled any one? Well I hope so.

I mean let us look at the facts, and just the facts. Here we are, with, not one, not two, but three ss in one word. I mean… how could I not feel threatened? And as the wise man cried, “Leave it to God, leave it to God, but don’t you stop rowing away from those rocks!“ Let me add that no one knows if the wise man made it or not. At any rate, and as a student of life and of wise men who seem to have a clue, I can proudly boast that this teacher’s cry didn’t land on deaf ears. Absolutely not. Not only did I hear, but I was also paying attention.

This is why, precious reader, (assuming you’re still there, which I will not use against you, although I could), this storyteller has to declare that steps are being taken. Yes, steps that can only lead to a win-lose situation, as the ss are smitten and obliterated beyond repair -if you know what I mean. “And what steps are these?” might you ask. Well, all I have to say is that these steps are too complicated to try and elaborate on them, so I won‘t, doing us both a favor. Suffice it to say that I’ve been strategizing to come up with an infallible and quantifiably applicable plan that would secure me a position within an organization of the type that tends to remunerate the members of its order for their time. In layman’s terms, once again for the sake of clarity, I am looking for work.

Yes, my either worried, or now gone, reader, Karim is looking to get a job very soon. “But why? Oh why? Oh why?” and believe me, I hear and feel your outcry -or maybe it is just my ears reacting to the café‘s expresso machine. Whatever the case, I say, “I understand, and that is why I would like you to know that this is the only possible course of action, and please go ahead and discard the idea of hobos, no matter how enticing it appears, for that is a line of work for which I am definitely under-qualified, and… where was I again?

Oh yes! My esteemed companeros e companeras, I would like you to know, and here is my argument, and it is quite a simple one, a beautifully incounterable argument based on mostly altruistic and honorable motives, this distantly-gazing-into-who-knows-what writer of yours, needs to start working and presto, because, when he is not working he goes on driving aimlessly, moving undecidedly between points A, B, C and D, as if lost in a deep haze, a menace to this already tried and battered environment of ours -that is if we are gullible enough to take in those clearly unfunded rumors that have been spreading about this so called environment by evil scientists from the left of the political spectrum, and before you start rolling your eyes, let me add that this last statement is based on strong scientific research supported by Fox News, so don‘t you even go there.

But I digress, aimlessly as if I were driving -do you see my point? Picture me on the road, moving at the mind blowing speed of thirty miles an hours, and you, you my mesmerized, or maybe you’ve moved to distant pasture -and I understand, Facebook fan (are you? If not, what are you waiting for? Time is of the essence), you, behind me, sinews tensing like the tight rope of an expertly crafted noose, squeezing the wheel of your car with both hands, knuckles turning translucent -which is a shade beyond white, gritting your teeth -knowing that it won't help your TMJ, blind to your dentist's future disappointed gaze -and you know that's coming, ready to scream, wondering, why, oh why, and, what the… and let us drop it here.

I could say, my all too patient amigos, take a chill-pill, relax, or as I heard it in some undisclosed location, chill-ax -here, I have to stop and salute the genius of the English language. Yes, I could indulge and reply, "Chillax," for it would bring me great pleasure. But, I don’t. Instead, I say, “I know. I know. And I’m looking. So hang in there. And don’t you forget to take a deep breath. As it happens you don’t look too good. Oh, and finally, sorry, sorry, I never took sign language, so your gesture doesn’t ring a bell…” This is what I say, or something within these general lines of open-minded parlance.

As you can see, as I am sure to have proven the gravity of the moment, and for the sake of not throwing combustibles at an already raging fire, so as not to be as those who are in charge of our all-so-so perfect economic systems, those who throw more of the good stuff, the real stuff, into the furnace of speculation, a furnace that we happen to be uncomfortably sitting on, confused by our situation, what with the media and all that goes with it, yes, why not take more from the people, give more to the problem, way to think, way to go, or maybe not. Anyway, what’s important is that I am looking, so despair not. Hang in there. What else can I say?

Otherwise, Be well, hang in there, and way to go.
Constantly awed by the blatant lunacy of those in power