Composition of Substance

It seems out of nowhere, I find myself in one of the hardest predicaments of my young life. I face separation from the Army in less 8 months, and in the mean time I look at positive traction and gain in what would set me up for a splendid and somewhat remarkable career in the military. I have mixed emotions about the whole thing for obvious reasons; I can wait for the chance to not wake up before the sun rises. To not have my life schedule dictated by what is best for the nation not for myself. These reasons are a few of many why I should just ride out the last of my short career in the military.

The mixed emotions consume me on levels that I don't yet understand about myself, and I feel remiss to have done so little during my enlistment. It's a strange thing that I sit here and beat myself up about being so mediocre, and yet in most realms it might be considered prolific, especially in comparison to what so many other of my age have done in their lives. I've jumped out of planes with hundreds of pounds strapped to me. I've lived in Baghdad for a year. I've done so much that can only be compared to by others who have made the sacrifices that are only fitting in the defense of our freedoms and liberties, and yet; I feel mediocre in it all. The mediocrity pressuring my will to the point where I know, I feel that I could've done more, I could've been better, greater in my existence, in my choices.

I sit, drinking a beer, staring at this computer screen. That could be my life. Writing and typing and staring at this boring screen. My life is exhilarating, or at least would be for so many other people. It's tough and challenging on days where you might be and I should be sleeping one off. Instead I'm running 4 miles in a 45 pound vest meant to save my life from the immanency of bullets being shot at me. Most people can't cut it, wouldn't cut it. It makes me fear for what I might face, and what I've seen of people in the outside civilian-take-everything-for-granted world. It makes me sick, and I'm scared to live in a society where things like being 'in shape' are not a norm, where making excuses are an everyday norm. The men I serve next to are among the greatest of our generation. They have sacrificed so much more than the others who continue to enjoy their freedoms. They aren't perfect by any means, but they have such a greater depth of character than so many others in this world, that I fear not having that surround me daily.

I fear not being able to fit in when I become a civilian. Sitting in a lecture hall in college and listening to 19 year old liberal fucks who have no idea what the real world is like. Someone with no perspective telling me what's left and what's right. I already have a lack of respect for men who do not serve some service to this nation who are able bodied and young like me. I've lost so much of my youth, not only in actual age, but in the mental and physical hardships I have strained myself through, in defense for the right I feel to go to college and truly enjoy the liberties that are now 'handed out' and that I'm entitled to. Excuses, they might all be, and filtering out the shit from the truth is as hard as you might think it should be. I'm up to my elbows in it, and I can't seem to find the plug. Will I be searching forever regardless of my choice to pull my arm out or not?


These are all questions... I must answer

In The Thick

Walking down the sidewalk I stared at my shadow cast by the street light. It was in front of me, but fading from black to gray and stretching further into the darkness ahead. My shadow disappeared, and then from behind, appeared again. It slowly crept on me and finally caught up to me, and then after directly under the light it slowly gained on me and beat me to my steps ahead. It was the last light on the sidewalk, and I knew the little cat and mouse game was coming to an end. I watched the shadow change from black to gray and then fade into the black of the night.

The sidewalk had ended, and begun grass. The pine straws were scattered every so carefully as to just break up the perfectness of the uneven grass. I thought of my shadow, no longer visible to me, hiding. How it had turned to gray, changed from what I once was, grown in size, but faded in color. I thought about five lights ago, five shadows ago, five years ago. I had changed, grown, but changed color in time. The thought struck me lightly and the magnitude never fully hit me until I realized how simple an idea it was, that it's simplicity had somehow equaled poignancy.

I tried to remember the me of five years ago, a man, rather a boy I would not recognize. I have come so far compared to that man with so few questions. I had learned so much, and now questioned so much more. A weird contradiction I suppose the me of five years ago wouldn't, couldn't recognize. My arrogant youth still around, but nearly as faded as my shadow in the street lamp of life. I spun and turned around, looking at the sidewalk I had now been off of. It was far in the distance, but close enough to imagine my steps to it, but not know them for sure. I looked at the lights, their shadows cutting angles in the night sky and bringing life in the dark and unknown. I had been in those lights once, but no longer. Now wandering, walking, wading in the night. My shadow of past and future in question, not around, gone. No preconception, no misconception. I spin back around, and stride into the dark, resolute.


Confused as it should be...