Log2

Weather: The dry spell is beginning to bite. This I can tell the durian flowers are beginning to peek up – soon it will be hot as a tin roof.

Judging from the cloud patterns and the way the Magpies seem to be heading North. It will be dry and very hot – I do not believe the rains will break in late August as they usually do. The cumulus clouds they too fast and high when they past the mountain ranges.

Countermeasures: I have instructed the harvesters to stop all herbicide land clearing – I will need the moisture of these weeds during the coming dry season.

Fix list:

– Bridge needs to be strengthened before the wet season come,otherwise the lorries cannot tranverse. I need to go to that section and study what needs to be done.

– work on Bird house control room will begin in four days. I need to come up with engineering blueprints what I want to do, otherwise the contractors will be confused. I want everything to be clear so that we do not have any problems.

– tractor: roads need to be done, along with the new trenches that I have set up.

A. Trench line in front of bird house in front of terraces need to be 2 feet deep. Objective to stop soil run off in that area.

B. Large collection pool on the hill in front of back terraces need to be landscaped so that it can collect water effectively – the mount will be hunched. A “V” shape needs be landscaped.

C. The small collection pond on the T junction needs to be enlarged in such a way where the banks will not break when they get too full. I want it to be 3 times deeper this time.

D. A second collection pond needs be dug for the bird house – this pond will be cemented as I want to use it to breed insects for the birds.

E. The collection pond to the east entrance needs to be deeper by three times – the last job was bullshit – another pond needs to be dug.

F. The transplanted trees are so-so but they are surviving – I need to hunch them. To create a mount.

G. Excavator needs to come in to deeper the river that is silted up / have to find a solution fast.

H. Need a lightning conductor.

Archery: I can tell from the groupings of my shots that I am very disturbed. There is no consistency in them. I must be having problems focusing. I much prefer to believe my arrows are bengkok.

Bandits: I have decided to delay my hunt for the bandits who have been terrorizing the small holders. The tribesmen took me yesterday to a camp they must have set up two weeks ago deep in the jungle. I spent a long time there – too clean. Professionals. Not even so much as a spent cigarette or tin can. Professionals. They bury everything faraway. They travel light and live off the land.

Four mounted post camps judging from the size of the holes on the ground. I was wrong, they must be at least 6. Split into two teams. One for day and night. Or could it they operate as cells independently. Fucking professionals. They never stay more than 2 days. Never near the river’s edge. They always choose 4 to 5 year palm areas to hide. Walk in single file to hide their numbers. I told to chieftain I wanted to see all their rubbish – he says they bury them. I told him dig every square inch of the area up – the chieftain was confused, I told him I need to see their spirit – then he understood. fucking Professionals. We scrapped enough for me to tell these outsiders are not your run of the mill perfume wood thieves that come every year this time from Thailand – cardamon flavor cigarettes, from the way the hogs are eaten, Ku Shan cigarettes, broken oil lamp with lard, a bottle of what seems like tiger balm, but I cannot read the label. From their rubbish, these are Shan pathfinders – I am sure of it, the Thais must be using them, as only they know how to move with the power of invisibility at night. I found a co-axial wire. Only less that 4 millimeters – E5 – military grade. It’s gold plated. It is just a small piece, but what is it doing here? No I have made a mistake. They must have FLIR. Not night vision. That is why they only steal at night and no one seems to be able to know when they strike – in the day, they hide.

Their boots are all worn with shoelaces tied twice around their heels. This makes their prints on the ground distinct to the back – these men must have combat experience in plantation warfare.

Only those who are accustomed to field life will know these secret art of war. By the looks of it – I need to be smart about this. And stop my fantasy that I am some batman. These people are serious. FLIR is hard to beat at night. Impossible even. But in a plantation, I know at least 9 ways to fool the operator or confused him. I did it as when I first came here my enemies hired professionals to get me out. They used FLIR as well. FLIR cannot be beaten, but one can certainly confuse the operator, that is all I need, one brief moment of confusion, then I strike – we need to move along the cool deep muddy trenches in plantations to hide our heat signature. The tribesmen do not know why I have asked them to do this – I tell them they have an evil eye that can see in the dark.

Before we move in. We need to start small fires along the fronts piles. This we will do by shooting flaming arrows from afar. Their attention will be directed there. I am taking a risk here. They only have one FLIR. This is the nature of fools who believe that technology is the basis of the art of war. Then we will take them on the otherside along the narrow passage as they make for the highlands to get a better view with their wonder toy – yes there 9 ways to defeat FLIR in a plantation. If it is in a desert maybe zero. In the jungle 2 ways, but in an oil palm plantation 9 ways.

I must be mindful that I do not transfer my grief to do what I need to do. Perhaps one reason why I find this so satisfying is that I angry. It’s one way to channel my anger. I cannot allow my judgment to be clouded by delusions of granduer – FACT: they are professionals!

The time is not right. To do all this, we need the moon to be full. I need the reeds to be like a tinderbox. To start so many fires that they are confused. I will not fight them, that will be suicide – I will starve them out.

Yes, I will do that. Fucking professionals!

9 ways in a plantation to defeat FLIR. I want to steal their toys. These thieves have so many wonderful toys that will keep me occupied and I wouldn’t need not wallow in my grief.

Personal: I must not be bitter or feel angry that she does not appreciate my sacrifices. I must not allow anger and frustration to color my thoughts – just occupy myself in work. As long as my hands and feet move I am fine.

I am convinced I do not have long to live – the rot has begun deep inside me – I can feel it. I can sense it even. Feel it’s texture even as it passes over me like a serpent slitthering quietly across my consciousness – it is death.

No one must ever see my pain. No one can. I must pretend to be strong. I must be unbreakable before my enemies. They must never know the desolation in my heart or the lost that clings to me like seaweed. NEVER. I must remind myself to smile more often and make an effort to small talk.

Ramadan: my Muslim farmhands have stopped complaining. As I work harder than any of them and fast along with them – they dare not complain as they feel ashamed that a non Muslim seems to be able to fast better than them uncomplaningly – I told them all, in this month of Ramadan, we must only think good and clean thoughts – one of them said to be, “you know the Hadith well teacher.” it is just as well, as I have no appetite to eat anything these days.

School dinner: it’s coming. I dread it. Perhaps I should just get a high class call girl who I normally make friends with just to drive their sportscar to sit beside me? That shouldn’t be too difficult. They’ll even do it for free. That should shut those school teachers who keep wondering why the handsome farmer who lives all by himself on the hill claims to have a wife but no one has ever seen her before – what do they really want from me? Why do I seem to attract so much attention? If I am a canto pop singer cum actor, it would make sense – but all I am is a mam who wants to sit down beside his wife and to show all the things I have accomplished. I am thinking again. I must stop now and work.

I need to work. Drown myself in it even till every pore is filled with round heavy sweat.