Freedom In The Hands of the Beholder

I'm embarrassed on a level to have defended this country. Things are slipping out of the grasp of liberty and our freedoms not only are threatened daily, but are spiraling down a self prophesying drain. Everyone is on their side and only care for it. We still call the media 'News.' Our sovereignty is gone, with it any true hope of patriotism without fire to set alight a unity in our less than perfect union.

Beyond watching what I and my brothers in arms thought we were risking our lives to protect go silently into the night without a fight, I struggle on my own to rehabilitate into the civilian world.

I'm beyond different in ways that are not comprehendible by those who have not experienced the thresholds I have gone beyond and endured. Sadly, this no longer makes me a functional member of society no matter how much I want to be... normal. My ignorance was bliss, and they took my bliss away.

In the college classes that I typically am the eldest by some eight years, I learn about kingdoms, civilizations, empires. They all rise, they all fall. Typically in the same mannerisms at the previous does the latter and the age old, seemingly unbiased and right as the mail saying; HISTORY repeats itself.

The more I study, the more I read, the more this old dog learns new tricks, it seems relevant to point out that a common theme amongst these nations of the past that were created under the hard work of rulers, whether through war, and typically it's through violence of some nature-if not only a threat of it, would rise great kingdoms. Over the years, after expansion, the rulers that have been given the kingdoms after all the hard work has been done; when there is no more blood, sweat and tears to give, when freedom and prosperity is seemingly unchallenged and at it's peak is when it always fails.

The history is staring us right in the face and we're to stupid to do anything about it. We just smile and watch it fade away.


I hear Costa Rica is nice...

Lies, Truth & Fable

Lost somewhere, my finger couldn't trace the text of life I needed to read. Anxiety built it's formidable defenses, and powerlessly I searched for it's weak spot. Breathlessly, I breathe. Living and surviving not from the functions of life, but because the memory in it. I cry ruthlessly, upon questions I can't even ask, let alone answer.

It's about this time I light the candle of courage deep within, but the light isn't exuberant this time. I search for the exit that isn't death, but get caught in it's spidery maze. I keep rowing, blind as a slave. It's up and down symphony of defeat and victory all in a life lived in a glass half full feels a lie. It's ignorance is in the bliss, but they've taken my bliss away.

Success, my blood beats with it. I find it's calming, slowing effect overtake me. The question marks pile their coagulating way into stopping the pounding of my life beat, of the heart, of the passion. I look at college as a four year way of truly making up my mind. Quarter of a decade isn't the dollar promise I could've made, and there I sit, here I sit, confused and unknowing as the same 18 year old kid ready to take on the world. Thirty before it's all said and done, and it will be.

It's the second that you're playing on the playground that you have woken up and you're an adult. Life, responsibilities are laid before you. Finely they're handled at hand, but you wish they were only pushing a friend on a swing. Sometimes they are. You reflect on yourself, but on the wrong side of the mirror. That man, you're not as proud as you could be, and the only rift is in yourself. You didn't aim well enough to accomplish a hit for yourself, but others are seemingly impressed. Perhaps this is a disease. Stop fooling yourself into believing me. Stop fooling yourself to believing yourself.

Anyone will tell you anything. Lies, truth or fable. It's all a mix up, you just have to believe in yourself or believe that they believe in you. Your perception is your reality or most of it. I struggle being the man I have become, certainly only because I never expected it. I sold myself into believing a lie long enough that that repetition, contrary to Roosevelt's belief, came true. I am who I've become, not who I was.

...no but we were meant to believe they did...

A Sad, Sad Truth

It's something that should have it's own word to describe. It probably does. You spend your whole life growing up, watching the romanticism of it all with John Wayne, Steve McQueen, Clint Eastwood or Robert Mitchum. I could play in my backyard for hours, with a bang bang or a yell at the top my lungs. The idea was something that I fell in love with at a young age, and could only imagine what it would actually be like. Combat. War. The Military. Fighting for one's country, for freedom, for a just cause.

I never thought that all of that glory, all of the cliche sayings and the fight for freedom could ever feel like this. It starts with you thanking me for my service. Unless you yourself are a Veteran, respectfully, stop it. It doesn't mean anything to me. You have no idea what you're even thanking me for. It's something you'll never understand, it's something that changes one whose been there drastically. It changes your views on the world so instantaneously that it often scares you that you could ever have been the man that you were before the experience.

Of course, I could never say that directly to your face. I know your heart is in the right place, but it certainly doesn't do me any favors. The truth of the matter is, you think perhaps when you join, or before or even part way through serving this country, that you're doing something truly special. Truly remarkable. And in a way, you are. But not the way you would think. The problem is, you realize what a bunch of bullshit all of this is. This country doesn't have a sliver, an ounce of understanding of what it is to be free. We have become so blinded by our own ignorance's that we expect that simply because we are American we are deserving of everything. Our entitlement is irreproachable. We inherently believe that our government should take care of us. That all of this, it's safe, it's easy. There's food, water, power, safety.

This is a crock. It's a dream that we are too close to waking up from. The reality will be a nightmare.

As a Veteran, you can't imagine how easily I have become embarrassed for my service to this country. I'm proud to have met the brothers whose bond has been strengthened with me in the harshest realms of sacrifice and hard work. My pride in being 'American' is something that I have started to separate myself from. The vast rift being created is one that leaves me feeling lost. The ignorance runs unshackled, and on days I give more respect to the enemies who have tried to kill me. Because, although they may have been ignorant, they didn't have the option of anything else. And in that consideration, with all that they knew in their lives, they were willing to die for it. Their Freedom was worth dying for. Tom Brokaw would agree, the shouldered weight of the nation is on too few.

The harshest part of all of this is not my separation in pride of being an American. It's the rift that is happening between the so, or now called Americans. This most recent election caused such turmoil in our nation that no matter who would win, no right can be done. There will be such blinded joy from the winning side that all wishes will eagerly be granted by supporters. Conversely, there will be an insurmountable hate from the losing side and supporters that all will be opposed. No growth, no compromise and the Union, not more perfect.

Is it worth defending?

As long as our government is administered for the good of the people, and is regulated by their will; as long as it secures to us the rights of persons and of property, liberty of conscience and of the press, it will be worth defending. -Andrew Jackson