The fire within is eating me up

December 16, 2014

Dear Nightingales,

Well, I entered my second month here and the fire is eating me up, but only within so I don’t show it. Well, I miss you my dear nightingales and I miss our wonderful friends and supporters. Life begins before our birth and goes on after our end. It’s more than www (water, wind and waves). They never cease to move. Sorry for my ranting. I’m not drunk yet! Funny, eh?

Your letter (stamped December 9th) took nine days to arrive (less than earlier letters). I was so happy to see it after the 2-4 pm promenade. It cooled my hot heart (burning actually). I sometimes think of stopping all sorts of communications so I put the fire in me out. You can’t, nor anyone else can, imagine the amount of heat that engulfs my whole body when I think of you out there, especially Jena. That’s too much and could kill me.

Our group will be four before the New Year since Pascal is leaving soon. He had only eight months (did about five of them or less). He’s the quieter one (speaks only French), but he smokes. I don’t know what charges he had. You can’t but envy him now.

Did I tell you I finished George Orwell’s "Homage to Catalonia"? I might be repeating myself when I say what a great writer. Too sad he died very young. He’s a straight talker. I still drink this ugly instant coffee. No more Bridgehead coffee. Two weeks ago, I ordered some tea hoping it’ll be just black tea ("thé nature" as I think they call it in French –- I might be wrong), but I haven’t seen the order here yet. Maybe they are planting it somewhere!

I guess I have to stop here but first I’ll send you limitless amounts of hugs and kisses and I wish you the best in the coming 10 days or so. I’m thinking of you always. Please say hi to our friends and tons of kisses to special Jena.