Mark Konta Estoria IX

About Returning Home
from East Timor


Well, what can I say........I'm a piece of shit. I've heard all of the horrible excuses myself, so now I'll just recycle them back to you guys. I've had no time, too drunk, no money, I'm lazy, too much masterbation........whatevr, I'll make time from now on to write,..."I promise."

OK, I am currently working on a tape to send you guys, but then I decided to scratch that idea because I feel like a complete tool box whenever I talk into a tape recorder in public. So, I'll just try to keep you informed via email, and a few packages every once in a while.

So, how does it feel coming home Mark? Well right now I think the worms are at battle with the parasites in my stomach....so in doesn't feel too fucking good. Thanks to the mandatory Peace Corps process, I get to spend the rest of the afternoon putting my poo in viles and shipping them off....good times.

Really though, things are kind of normal here. I was expecting to get all weirded out seeing all the old shit. But it was so normal it was kind of scary. Like maybe I didn't soak up Timor as much as I should of. And I deffinatley tried while I was there too. The biggest difference I noticed so far is how quick time passes. Seriously, I feel like I got off the plane yesterday and its already been a month. I don't know, between the drinking, eating, sienfeld, and driving - the days kind of just go without even noticing them. Way different then counting every sweaty second in Laleia, while I bang my head off my desk and fire up another game of Snake II to pass the time. Plus I noticed that Americans are big, fat, dumb pieces of shit. For some reason when I walked around the airport in Bali or Singapore all the people, and especially women, seemed kind of ellagant. Then I step foot into America and I get bombarded by zubaz wearing, big mack eating fatties that will run you over to get infront of the McDonalds line. ITs weird though, because I'm way more self conscious here. That was a huge difference too. As soon as i got into Bali, I saw all these Western people and I suddenly felt fat, bald, and ugly. This is coming from the guy who walked around Timor for two days with half his head shaven, a shirt that said "Bomba Sexy" on it, and pants that had a giant sweet and sour chicken stain on them and didn't give a shit. It was wierd how different I felt about myslef, and how the confidence totally went down. didn't like it. But for the most part things have been good.

What have I been up to?.............Hello, .......um.........my name is Mark H. and I'm an Alcoholic. It took me approximately 5 hours after I got home to get so drunk I fell over. The last three weeks I've been meeting different friends out almost every night to be welcomed home with a Jaeger Bomb. So pretty much my settling in allowance has turned into a re-toxication allowance. Other than that I've been looking for employment. It doesn't seem that people are too interested in Peace Corps drop outs so far, but it hasn't been that long. I'm applying all over the fucking world, so if any of you wonderful people have connections....help a brother out.

The big question is what the hell is going on over there? People leaving, new CD's, I'm hearing all kinds of crazy shit. Hau Presisa Gossip Timor nian, kedas. So who's still King of their Castle? Is that bet still going on? Oh yeah...big news in the world of Mark Hayes. It took about a week, maibee hau kaer feto molik manas tia ona. I would like to tell you guys that it was no big deal. But I can't.......girls are pretty.

OK, I've got to go guys. I'll have a package out before the week ends. Boys, I haven't had enough nerve to go and actually buy porn yet....but someones got to do it. And I can't let you guys down, so I'lll suck it up and look like a dirtbag for the good of the team. Ladies, if you have any special requests to get you through those hot and lonely nights...........ask someone else - because there is no way in hell I'm seeking out gay shit. alrighty, talk to you guys soon. I miss you guys more than you know,

Maun Markos


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