from here in siberia, everything looks like rings of fire. shooting at the bartender with a flare gun, having run out of bullets long ago. he says i have the white fever, but i keep fucking screaming at him that it is black as fucking space in here, & then thumping my chest. will show that fucking bastard. & grandfather elk & all these fucking unicorns, here in the ice capitol of the world. reassuring the other lonesome soldier in the bar that if things weren't as bad as they seemed, they would be soon, if i have anything to say about it. in other words, siberia is great, second to none. all the barbed wire i've scavanged makes as comfortable a pillow as i deserve. did you know there are tigers up here? tigers!