Livingroom reflections

Been a strange day today. my son got called into the social services to talk a little, my eighteen year old son who is one of the most well-balanced individuals I know, much more stable than me for example. This is the thing:

During the summer, while my son was over in england staying with his mother, I was her alone and was running a restaurant. Now, my headchef and I were out on a bit of a bender. We had been out drinking and then we went to a party at a friends place about three in the morning. Nothing unusual so far. When we left the party at about five or five-thirty in the morning we were more than a little drunk.Nothing unusual so far. Maybe we were making a little noise I don't really know but anyway, half way home we decided to stop and sit on a doorstop, you know just chat a bit as good friends do.

Suddenly two police cars screeched to a halt in front of us, yes, two police cars. The officers got out and told us that there had been a report about two drunks fighting. We of course told them that they must be talking about someone else as we were really good friends and they then asked us if we were drunk. Yes of course we are drunk, it is five in the morning and we are just on our way home. This was the wrong answer as they then bundled us into a police car each and drove us down to the lock-up where we were locked up in a cell together(strange if they thought we were fighting) and didn't let us out untill the next afternoon. There is a law here allowing the police to lock people up if they are a danger to themselves and the ones who judge this are the police themselves....Anyway....

They were not aware that my son was in england and I was living on my own at the time and they called him in to see if he was alright or if he needed some help, actually it is just fine that they do this as long as it helps someone along the way, for me however it caused a somewhat wierd day. The letter calling him in said that they needed to talk to him with regard to me being reported to the police and this alone gave me a worried night the night before, fortunately I have both anxiety tablets and sleepers at home so I did actually get some sleep but really not a good experience. Once he got there and told them that everything at home was just fine so of course things sorted themselves out but it was just one more anxiety ridden night.

I live in a communist country which pretends not to be.

I have to get out of here.

My girlfriend just told me tonight that she has already moved to Cambodia mentally. Right now nothing could make me happier than exactly those words. Her family barely know about me yet, when she tells them that I'm taking her away to Cambodia I can only imagine what thier reaction will be. It really doesn't matter, nothing could be more important than the quest for a better life. I find it hard to imagine that so many people just accept that where they are born is where they will live, or maybe I'm just a missfit, a gypsy destined to move around from place to place. I hope I'm wrong, I really hope that I will eventually find somewhere where I really feel at home.

If I do then I think that I have found the person I want to be there with, for this I am happy.

If I don't fit in there I won't fit in anywhere, for this I am happy.

There is a light at the end of a very long tunnel, for this I am happy.


Lucien