Ecce 3: Back in time

"Fact 1.
I am smoking a hand-rolled cigarette

Fact 2.
I will leave England on Friday 14th July 2006

Fact 3.
Between now and then I intend to earn my living as a male prostitute."

Ave,

  It all began in January but it was still a little hard to accept as something that was truly going to happen, what with the date being so very far in the future. People don´t believe statements like that, especially not from me. My record with such declarations could be compared to that of a rising politician. But then at some point one has to stick to something, even if that thing involves walking away for good.

Yes, I remember the day because it had already happened and I was still a little confused as to what I had done. Obvious really. The markedly self conscious among you will understand that the plans we make are mere statements of intent; no more certain than vague manifestae of attainable goals. Life doesn´t, of course, care much for these plans. Caught within its constant, irresistable pull we are just carried along, sometimes tossed about like flotsam. I laugh now and feel slightly embarrassed. You see I knew this truth like a trusted friend. I knew that nothing ever ends, that there is only the process. However, in order to cast ones self towards a goal one must trust in nothing but the plan. There can be no doubt. One must categorically deny any possibility that The Plan will not be followed through to the letter, and, what is more upsetting, that one never really knows what The Plan consists of.

It was with this in mind that I wrote the following:

´At the age of thirty I have retired myself from a career in the restaurant industry. This is not to say that I owned restaurants. No, it is hard to retire from that. I merely worked them, as a miner to a pit, or perhaps as a courtesan...., no, it was never so enjoyable.

The day of retirement was last thursday. It was a dinner service, just another service like countless others, but then they are all unique, aren´t they. There was, as always, the threat of stress and of that brief glimpse of enlightenment in the eye of it (I had better explain this at some point) but neither occurred. No, like the threat of exceptional weather when out at sea the reality is often a disappointment.

It is now Sunday afternoon and I am drinking a large whisky on ice in a bar that has a hold on me. I am a free man, or so it seems. I am not so free as to deny myself whisky before sunset, or is it this cafe that I am a slave to?

At some point in my remaining years I shall summon the will to write a history of my brief career; from its birth, through its bulk, to its recent death. At once a group of elderly equiries are seen to hesitate and glance nervously among themselves before a golden throne. The strong, handsome prince with the calm demeanor who sits above them has just issued a brave proclamation concerning The Future. A Law must be hacked into the foot of the mountain in letters the size of a house. All the equiries must do now is to Make It Happen. But they are nervous. One steps forward... you must believe me when I say that only God knows what gave him the strength to do so... but he steps forward, kneels and, with a bowed head, dares to question of the validity of his liege´s proclamation..... Oh dear.

It seems then that I do not owe it to myself, nor to my friends, nor to my family (certainly not to Humankind) to commit my insignigficant little history to History. It would just be something to do. Even as I write I cannot deny a lack of will. It persists though.

But to work! This paragraph will contact three facts. If I digress, please forgive me and read on, for that is what I would do.

Fact 1.
I am smoking a hand-rolled cigarette.

Fact 2.
I will leave England on Friday 14th July 2006

Fact 3.
Between now and then I intend to earn my living as a male prostitute.

It has occurred to me that this is to be a journal. So be it. I am glad that it has begun. I had always hoped to be more than a bartender.

Twelve neighbours share the banquette in this cafe but among them I am the only Englishman (truly, by blood, for at least 400 years) and in my capitol too. I wish to learn their native tongues. I have as many negative reasons for leaving as positive desires. How could I ever doubt my will? Perhaps ´Will´shall be a recurring theme. Now mark these three facts. MARK THEM!!!

1. I will leave by motorbike.
2. I intend to prostitute myself for a ´handsome´return.
3. My next meal will be pizza!