“Fear keeps pace with hope. Nor does their so moving together surprise me; both belong to a mind in suspense, to a mind in a state of anxiety through looking into the future. Both are due to mainly projecting our thoughts far ahead of us instead of adapting ourselves to the present. Thus it is that foresight, the greatest blessing humanity has been given, is transformed into a curse. Wild animals run from the dangers they actually see, and once they have escaped them worry no more. We however are tormented alike by what is past and what is to come. A number of our blessings do us harm, for memory brings back the agony of fear while foresight brings it on prematurely. No one confines his unhappiness to the present.”
—Seneca, Letter V
Dear reader,
“Cease to hope, and you will cease to fear.” Seneca carries on by answering the question of how these two things can be linked? But for as different as hope and fear may be from the other, “the two of them march in unison like a prisoner and the escort he is handcuffed to.”
Which is the prisoner and which the escort I have no idea. Perhaps the analogy only serves to highlight the concatenation of the two, an inescapable bond, so that removal of one would necessitate the absence of the other. But it appears difficult to imagine that in a moment of fear we should think of hope, and easier to imagine that during our most hopeful there is the back-burner of fear that, if persevering enough, we try to blow out. Thus, no one confines his unhappiness to the present.
It is late already and must be up early to get this started. It’s not surprising that this should be the last letter, unfulfilled as they all seemed to me. They are not packed or even sprinkled with insight, flowery prose, or literary merit. The effect of the gulag is that it is dark here, and I have merely tried my best keeping the wits I still had about me. As I think I mentioned, I’m just thinking aloud and offering what little I can in the short amount of time that I have to do so. As a result, these are no more than published drafts, notes to myself, tokens to look forward to as the days pass and I can picture you kind enough to open this as you start your day. And that makes me smile, even now.
I think that I have felt what it was like to be without love from those I loved, that when this fact had been made a lesson, I learned what real love looked like, what it does, and what it says. As a consequence, my life has dwindled into a corner of the world within which I was given refuge, reminded that I had always been a native to receive that which I was desperately searching for all these years.
I spent the last hours with my brother. He’s a good kid. I love him a lot. He’s grown older now. But so have I. I think he knew, and I heard it in his voice. He loves me and I know it. He knows I love him too. And lastly, played chess with my friend (and co-author). He’s improved a lot these last few weeks. It makes me happy that he enjoys the game as much as I do. It’s nice to share things you love with those that you love.
So my bedtime hours are getting shorter and shorter as I stay up. I’ll have my last cigarette for the night and try to sleep. Day Zero starts soon. Last time I heard that I was serving my country. And nothing could be as bad as five months of military.
Thanks for reading. I’m home now. Maybe I’ll have that beer in the fridge.
Earnestly yours,
Jacob