Some days I miss you a lot.
I guess I just got tired of trying, I guess I still am.
I guess I shouldn't have written you that letter, I guess I said some things that were stupid.
I still have the letter you wrote me, I brought it to Texas and I brought it here to Iraq. I don't know why.
I don't know why I didn't just throw it away or leave it tucked in some drawer.
I don't know why you felt the need to run away.
Maybe I should though, I ran away too. I'm still running.
Maybe you could give me some pointers 'cause it looks like you figured your shit out.
Maybe we weren't as good friends as I thought. Maybe we were and it just wasn't enough.
Sometimes in airports I look for you. I think about what I would do if I saw you.
I wonder what you'd do if you saw me first. A part of me thinks you'd just keep walking.
And even though it has been years since we talked I know how you'd act if I went up to you.
I know what you'd say, I know how you'd say it. I know you'd hug me. And I know that I wouldn't say a damn thing about how you ran away like you tried to do so many times before.
I wouldn't say two words about it because I know you. I always knew you.
I guess its suprising who you become friends with, and how important that friendship becomes.
Some days I miss you a lot.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Here We Go Again
I've been fucking busy. Kinda.
As with everything else in my Army career nothing is ever how it is said to be, nor supposed to be. I'm in Iraq, but not to my end distination. I might not get there for two fucking weeks and I'm not pleased. I can hear gunfire from my rack and I am itching like a man with crabs to get the shit out there.
In other news the Game is afoot. I've been at least partially on the bench for a long time now and while the timing sucks donkey dick it feels good to be playing.
Which might explain why AC has been poping into my mind for the first time since Summer leave. Hmmmm
Great things to be thinking about with a war litterally on my doorstep.
As with everything else in my Army career nothing is ever how it is said to be, nor supposed to be. I'm in Iraq, but not to my end distination. I might not get there for two fucking weeks and I'm not pleased. I can hear gunfire from my rack and I am itching like a man with crabs to get the shit out there.
In other news the Game is afoot. I've been at least partially on the bench for a long time now and while the timing sucks donkey dick it feels good to be playing.
Which might explain why AC has been poping into my mind for the first time since Summer leave. Hmmmm
Great things to be thinking about with a war litterally on my doorstep.
Friday, November 13, 2009
She Could Run Like The Wind
Oh wow.
I am way drunk.
For the record:
The first time I heard G. Love & the Special Sauce I was In M. G.'S car. It was me and Vingato and for the record it blew my fucking mind.
I am way drunk.
For the record:
The first time I heard G. Love & the Special Sauce I was In M. G.'S car. It was me and Vingato and for the record it blew my fucking mind.
If I Had A Rocket Launcher...
Listen.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8dGNDUdtNh8
"Lovers in a Dangerous Time" by Bruce Cockburn
What does this song mean? I think it means a lot to a lot of people. Fuck it was written in the early '80's it can't be that deep.
However in this fear-mongering post 9-11 world it takes on a very literal connotation. Me and Ms. Another Soldier are technically, though I loath her, lovers. And we are both faced with the very real possibility of being blown the fuck up. I mean how can this god-fucking-damn song get more real?
For us it is a very dangerous time...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8dGNDUdtNh8
"Lovers in a Dangerous Time" by Bruce Cockburn
What does this song mean? I think it means a lot to a lot of people. Fuck it was written in the early '80's it can't be that deep.
However in this fear-mongering post 9-11 world it takes on a very literal connotation. Me and Ms. Another Soldier are technically, though I loath her, lovers. And we are both faced with the very real possibility of being blown the fuck up. I mean how can this god-fucking-damn song get more real?
For us it is a very dangerous time...
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Live Fast Die Young
Smoking.
It has a long and storied history. People have been doing it for roughly 7,000 years. And I fucking love it.
I am a non-smoker myself, though I have tried many different things in my day. I suppose I could be best described as a Second-Hand Smoker. When others take smoke breaks I go with them, sometimes I even take a short or two myself, but I could never really get into it.
Don't start with me. Don't even start to conjure into your brain the health aspects. I don't fucking care. You can show me, or anyone else for that matter. as many horrible pictures of cancer and diseased lungs and rotted away jaws as you want. It won't change a damn thing.
And that's what I love about smoking. It is Practical Nihilism. Everyday people, living their everyday lives, yet making a conscious decision to say "Fuck it". They just don't care.
When I had to take a government mandated substance abuse class the speaker said every cigarette takes and hour or a day or some such off your lifespan. In response to this I heard a man ask; "Is that an hour off like the middle or towards the end?" to which the speaker replied "I guess the end when you're old and your lungs and heart are failing." It was at that point the guy sat down and lit a jack. He had the right idea.
In Europe the EU has mandated that all packs of cigarettes carry in bold lettering SMOKING KILLS on the front and SMOKING CAN CAUSE A SLOW AND PAINFUL DEATH on the back. As if we didn't know.
I do not think I am being pessimistic in the least when I say that we are all dying slow and painful deaths.
The idea that a life has to be long to be full is just bullshit that has weeded its way into our subconscious and I don't like it one bit.
It has a long and storied history. People have been doing it for roughly 7,000 years. And I fucking love it.
I am a non-smoker myself, though I have tried many different things in my day. I suppose I could be best described as a Second-Hand Smoker. When others take smoke breaks I go with them, sometimes I even take a short or two myself, but I could never really get into it.
Don't start with me. Don't even start to conjure into your brain the health aspects. I don't fucking care. You can show me, or anyone else for that matter. as many horrible pictures of cancer and diseased lungs and rotted away jaws as you want. It won't change a damn thing.
And that's what I love about smoking. It is Practical Nihilism. Everyday people, living their everyday lives, yet making a conscious decision to say "Fuck it". They just don't care.
When I had to take a government mandated substance abuse class the speaker said every cigarette takes and hour or a day or some such off your lifespan. In response to this I heard a man ask; "Is that an hour off like the middle or towards the end?" to which the speaker replied "I guess the end when you're old and your lungs and heart are failing." It was at that point the guy sat down and lit a jack. He had the right idea.
In Europe the EU has mandated that all packs of cigarettes carry in bold lettering SMOKING KILLS on the front and SMOKING CAN CAUSE A SLOW AND PAINFUL DEATH on the back. As if we didn't know.
I do not think I am being pessimistic in the least when I say that we are all dying slow and painful deaths.
The idea that a life has to be long to be full is just bullshit that has weeded its way into our subconscious and I don't like it one bit.
It Is
I know I've said before that I'm trying to be more positive and I acknowledge that I am doing a terrible job. Lets be honest though, I don't have a ton to be positive about. But forget that. I've decided on a compromise.
Every time I want to dwell on all the shit in this world I am going also to keep something awesome and positive in mind. Because there is some sweet shit out there.
Like scientists. They are always doing off the wall shit. Right now smarter people than I are perfecting a bra that harnesses the power of boobs. Yeah, kinetic energy from boobs. THIS WORLD IS AWESOME.
Every time I want to dwell on all the shit in this world I am going also to keep something awesome and positive in mind. Because there is some sweet shit out there.
Like scientists. They are always doing off the wall shit. Right now smarter people than I are perfecting a bra that harnesses the power of boobs. Yeah, kinetic energy from boobs. THIS WORLD IS AWESOME.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Until It Doesn't
I am an atheist. There is no cognitive higher power, no "unmoved mover" nor moved mover. We simply are and that's that. I am sure of that.
However these are the only things in this world that make me think someone somewhere knows what the fuck is going on:
Girls
Seriously. They blow my mind. They are soft and pretty and smell nice and drive me (along with half the population) insane.
Cows
How can so much delicious food be derived from one animal? Milk, Cheese, Butter, Ice Cream, Steak, Ground Beef, ect, ect. The list is damn near endless. They are magic animals meant to be eaten.
Alcohol
"Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to prosper" -Willy Franklin
Strangely enough these three things go together. Kind of.
You ever wonder what heaven is like? I mean can you ever think of the happiest you have ever been? (I assume heaven to be akin to that.)
I can't.
I can think of plenty of times when I was happy, but never so happy that it beat out the others. Conversely I can't recall my most miserable.
I can think of times where I really, honestly wanted to off myself, and I can think of times where I was so happy I could die. Yet neither one holds the spot of best or worst time of my life. How do you pick a high or low point? It seems terribly depressing to think of any time being the best because then what's the point of continuing on?
If you've already peaked then you're really just going through the motions. And if you can assign a moment in your life to be the worst than that's simply hubris on your part. I mean unless your family was just murdered in front of you while you were raped and the people that did it were your best and truest friends and you just found out you have AIDS and cancer and you're on fire then ok, chances are you have set the bar for Worst Moment in Your Life. But barring that, well it could get so much worse.
I suppose this is a roundabout way for me to explain that heaven (were it to exist) must get boring as hell. And hell must also be boring. Because it is human nature to adapt and roll with the punches. The worst thing ever, if it lasts long enough, becomes background noise. As does the best.
For instance: I enjoy sex. Sex is very fun and I like it pretty much unequivocally. Yet if I was humping for eternity I would become bored pretty rapidly. Yet were I to switch to another pursuit I would soon tire of that and once again wish for sex.
I dislike nothing more than being gassed. Getting gassed once I joined the army was absolutely terrible. Yet toward the end of the minute or two I was in that chamber sucking in VX I found that while I couldn't breathe easier and my body was still reacting forcefully my mind had calmed down and I was no longer panicking. I mentally became accustomed to the idea of the terrible experience going on indefinitely.
We are more powerful then we give ourselves credit for. Nothing is really that big of a deal, because life goes on and on and on.
However these are the only things in this world that make me think someone somewhere knows what the fuck is going on:
Girls
Seriously. They blow my mind. They are soft and pretty and smell nice and drive me (along with half the population) insane.
Cows
How can so much delicious food be derived from one animal? Milk, Cheese, Butter, Ice Cream, Steak, Ground Beef, ect, ect. The list is damn near endless. They are magic animals meant to be eaten.
Alcohol
"Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to prosper" -Willy Franklin
Strangely enough these three things go together. Kind of.
You ever wonder what heaven is like? I mean can you ever think of the happiest you have ever been? (I assume heaven to be akin to that.)
I can't.
I can think of plenty of times when I was happy, but never so happy that it beat out the others. Conversely I can't recall my most miserable.
I can think of times where I really, honestly wanted to off myself, and I can think of times where I was so happy I could die. Yet neither one holds the spot of best or worst time of my life. How do you pick a high or low point? It seems terribly depressing to think of any time being the best because then what's the point of continuing on?
If you've already peaked then you're really just going through the motions. And if you can assign a moment in your life to be the worst than that's simply hubris on your part. I mean unless your family was just murdered in front of you while you were raped and the people that did it were your best and truest friends and you just found out you have AIDS and cancer and you're on fire then ok, chances are you have set the bar for Worst Moment in Your Life. But barring that, well it could get so much worse.
I suppose this is a roundabout way for me to explain that heaven (were it to exist) must get boring as hell. And hell must also be boring. Because it is human nature to adapt and roll with the punches. The worst thing ever, if it lasts long enough, becomes background noise. As does the best.
For instance: I enjoy sex. Sex is very fun and I like it pretty much unequivocally. Yet if I was humping for eternity I would become bored pretty rapidly. Yet were I to switch to another pursuit I would soon tire of that and once again wish for sex.
I dislike nothing more than being gassed. Getting gassed once I joined the army was absolutely terrible. Yet toward the end of the minute or two I was in that chamber sucking in VX I found that while I couldn't breathe easier and my body was still reacting forcefully my mind had calmed down and I was no longer panicking. I mentally became accustomed to the idea of the terrible experience going on indefinitely.
We are more powerful then we give ourselves credit for. Nothing is really that big of a deal, because life goes on and on and on.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Dust To Dust
Today they kill the DC Sniper. I don't recall his name, John Allan Mohamed I think. Isn't really worth the effort to look it up in my opinion. My feelings toward him mirror my feelings toward Cho and that Major: Fuck 'em.
I don't like to deal with absolutes and as far as I am concerned the world is made up of many, many different shades of gray. But some things are simply and truly right while others are absolutely wrong. Killing unarmed civilians is mostly wrong. Killing children is always wrong. Rape is always wrong. Raping children is more wrong than anything. Genocide is the apex of wrong.
When people do things that a vast majority of the population throughout human existence have deemed to be wrong, they are no longer people. They fall short of being something that we can or should identify with. They become animals and should be put down like animals. Not with cruelty or the intention of pain in mind, but with a manner of cold determination and finality.
Killing those kinds of people has not to serve any second-tier purpose such as vengeance, retribution or waring. It is merely the appropriate action to take when a person decides to cross a line that should not be crossed.
I don't like to deal with absolutes and as far as I am concerned the world is made up of many, many different shades of gray. But some things are simply and truly right while others are absolutely wrong. Killing unarmed civilians is mostly wrong. Killing children is always wrong. Rape is always wrong. Raping children is more wrong than anything. Genocide is the apex of wrong.
When people do things that a vast majority of the population throughout human existence have deemed to be wrong, they are no longer people. They fall short of being something that we can or should identify with. They become animals and should be put down like animals. Not with cruelty or the intention of pain in mind, but with a manner of cold determination and finality.
Killing those kinds of people has not to serve any second-tier purpose such as vengeance, retribution or waring. It is merely the appropriate action to take when a person decides to cross a line that should not be crossed.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Tonight's Agenda: Watching TV On My Computer
7 Days until I leave for Iraq. I am so not ready. Mentally I'm ready, but I haven't packed a fucking thing. Like NOTHING. Haven't washed my clothes, read the packing list, cleaned my locker, cleaned my room, canceled my cable/internet, stopped my phone, taken down my posters or sent my TV home.
I am the King of the Unprepared, bow before me and marvel how I procrastinate preparations for a yearlong combat deployment!
I AM YOUR GOD!!!
Since I'm speaking Army:
Fuck that Major who went postal in the SRP at Ft. Hood. It doesn't matter what religion he was or why he did it, he was just another motherfucker who couldn't deal and decided to take some others with him.
After the Tech shooting I was talking to a friend of mine who also went to college out of state. She (like the rest of us) was wondering how and why these things happen. I didn't know then and I don't know now. I just know it sucks, and the closer you are the more it sucks.
Tech shook me because it wasn't just people dying, it was my people dying. And my compatriots overseas die everyday, and it sucks when I see their faces on the Casualty page. But they died doing their duty, small consolation I know, but its still something. What happened at Hood shook me because while soldiers die often it should never ever be like that.
Those soldiers were processing in or out of deployments, getting shots and signing paperwork, crossing the T's and dotting the I's, packed in like cattle and ready to go the fuck home. Then the familiar sound of gunfire and everything goes straight to hell.
Sometimes I don't understand this world. Most of the time I hold little hope for it.
I am the King of the Unprepared, bow before me and marvel how I procrastinate preparations for a yearlong combat deployment!
I AM YOUR GOD!!!
Since I'm speaking Army:
Fuck that Major who went postal in the SRP at Ft. Hood. It doesn't matter what religion he was or why he did it, he was just another motherfucker who couldn't deal and decided to take some others with him.
After the Tech shooting I was talking to a friend of mine who also went to college out of state. She (like the rest of us) was wondering how and why these things happen. I didn't know then and I don't know now. I just know it sucks, and the closer you are the more it sucks.
Tech shook me because it wasn't just people dying, it was my people dying. And my compatriots overseas die everyday, and it sucks when I see their faces on the Casualty page. But they died doing their duty, small consolation I know, but its still something. What happened at Hood shook me because while soldiers die often it should never ever be like that.
Those soldiers were processing in or out of deployments, getting shots and signing paperwork, crossing the T's and dotting the I's, packed in like cattle and ready to go the fuck home. Then the familiar sound of gunfire and everything goes straight to hell.
Sometimes I don't understand this world. Most of the time I hold little hope for it.
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