They Said It Better Than I Ever Could...


These words that I write, they keep me from total insanity. -Charles Bukowski

Who is the happier man, he who has braved the storm of life and lived, or he who has stayed securely on shore and merely existed? -Dr. Hunter S. Thompson

Mar 6, 2009

SO I HAVE DEFINITELY BEEN LOSING MY SENSE OF HUMOR LATELY...

I assume that if my mother has noticed the rather sullen tone of the majority of my recent posts, save the two about the fabulous jokes that fly around this place like so many grains of Afghani sand. Other than that, if you haven’t noticed I have been in a pretty pissy mood.

I have been abundantly clear as to why. It’s because this war has turned out to be so much less than I had hoped for. (And yes, I do realize that I should probably be very thankful for that fact, but it still sucks.)

So I have come to a conclusion. And the conclusion is that I will let that which does not matter truly slide. (Homage to Fight Club) I read the serenity prayer just a minute ago and I decided to write this, because in all of about 5 seconds I made my peace with this war, I made my peace with this command, I made my peace with this place, and I made peace with myself. To hell with it all, there isn’t a thing in the world that I can do about it, so I am not going to allow it to make me nuts!

I know that is a lot of peacemaking in a short period of time for someone who’s soul purpose is war.

Anyway, we all know how that goofy prayer goes. Serenity, things I can change, things I cannot and la di da di da. But the words took up residence in my brain and luckily for me, my brain processed, understood, and reacted to the words favorably.

So I have little choice but to let this whole thing slide. Given the fact that right now, and at my present station in life there is next to shit I can do about any of it. (Damn demotions!)

I don’t know why today turned out to be the day that all this peace came crashing down. Maybe it had something to do with the pissy mood that I woke up in this morning. I do that from time to time. Normally, I am really loud, gregarious, and funny, obnoxious even. But today when I hauled my ass out of bed I just was in no mood for any of it. I didn’t even want to talk. So I didn’t.

Apparently, there are a lot more people here that care about me than I was willing to previously admit. I think all of you have realized that I don’t like to identify myself with anyone other than me. I don’t like to think of myself as dependent on anyone, for anything. Yeah, I always have wanted to think of myself as the one guy who could be an island. Well, I am full of shit.

I didn’t get it right away but it worked out for me. Almost immediately after getting out of bed and acting the way I was. (Like a 2 year old who just got his favorite toy taken away) People started to ask me what was wrong. When I wouldn’t tell them, they chased me around about it. Annoying as it was, I couldn’t help but realize that, “Hey asshole, these people care about you and want to make sure everything is Okay!, or at least they want to make sure that they haven’t given live ammunition to a psychopath.” Either way, I am loved.

Turns out that there are at least eleven really annoying yet caring people on this FOB, and that was just the ones that hit me up prior to lunch when I snapped out of it. I still cannot bring myself to admit any form of weakness to anyone though. I just told them that I was playing a game to see how many people would ask me what was wrong during the course of the day. One thing at a time people, I am an emotional infant. First I realize this stuff in my own brain, now tomorrow maybe I’ll actually share some of what’s inside of me with those around me. I wouldn’t count on it, but it’s possible. Why do you think I write this? Because it’s a helluva lot easier than actually having to say any of it to anyone in particular.

So in addition to coming to grips with the bag of ass that is this whole situation, I have come to another realization. This isn’t about the war, this isn’t about terror, this isn’t about Afghanistan, or the United States, or me, or the politicians, or the officers, or money, or duty, or honor, or any of the rest of the shit that is spoon fed to us.

The only thing that matters, the only thing that really matters is the guys. The guys next to me. The ones that are going through all the same shit I am going through. The guys who have been there with me when the road went boom. The guys that have been there when the bullets started to fly. The guys who have been there when I was dangling a hot dog from my button fly. The guys who have been there...always. The guys who were there to ask me what was wrong when I would’ve been perfectly content to set the entire world ablaze. Yeah even those annoying pricks.

The guys. That’s it.

And that’s good enough for me.

I’m done.

Later,

I love you mom...

2 comments:

  1. you have clearly vaulted your self to emotional toddler, congrats

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  2. mudpuppy...somedays acceptance is as good as it gets. and that's not a bad thing.
    I'm glad you are where you are (emotionally, not physically). For me, and many others...we have no idea what it is like to put your boots on in the morning. I'm grateful for you and your guys, for what you are all doing.
    I welcomed two flights last night at BWI, as they returned from Iraq and Afghanistan.
    It is one of the greatest honors of my life to shake the hands of a bunch of 'mudpuppies'. To tell them I am so glad they are home and to simply say thank you.
    You're coming home one of these days! Until then...
    Stay Strong!
    Pray Hard!
    ~AM

    ReplyDelete