Saturday, February 13, 2010

Death Watch Journal for Kevin Varga - DAY 3

Well yesterday’s optimism has evaporated like dew in the harsh sunlight of the desert morning. I spent my day searching the population around me for someone willing and able to help me. I’ve found many who are willing to give advice although it wasn’t worth anything in the struggle for saving my life. Those who I have been told have the skills to help me file these things away in locked boxes. They guard these precious scraps of knowledge like a puppy with his favorite chew toy. The effort it would take to coax them into giving me their help would take too long. Despair. So I only have one person who is willing to help me with this, who tells me the odds are not good. He told me not to mention his name. He also told me not to say anything good about him, because, “the last thing I need are any more people calling me an arrogant sociopath.” But this is MY journal, so I will say what I want, you nerd J I feel like a creature who has his leg caught in a trap, and the only help I can find is telling me that I will have to chew my own foot off to get free. There are no longer any choices in front of me that are promising. 85 days to go.

Kevin Varga

© Copyright 2010 by Kevin Varga and Thomas Bartlett Whitaker. All rights reserved.

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