Another journal entry from time in the desert.

Sunday, October 16, 2005

Oh how I long for the days when I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off screaming "there's so much to do and so little time" Now I have an abundance of time, and nothing to occupy it. I could read, but the library here holds nothing of value really, I've read most of it. I could work out, but I really don't aspire to be a body builder, and I cant imagine being any thinner and still looking good. So, I think..and I think...and I think until even I have run out of thought provoking thoughts. My mind is filled with useless thoughts, such as What the hell am I doing here? How the hell, did my neo-hippie ass get to Kuwait, not fighting but definitely supporting a war. Did any hippies actually go to Vietnam? I'm just wondering. I mean, I despise violence, completely. I hate it. But for some ungodly reason, i am here. i tote an M16 to work with me. I used to make wreaths out of flowers and wear them in my hair, give worship to nature, the most beautiful of all beauties. Now, I pull on my camouflage (which doesn't match anything on god's earth...trust me. Who the hell are we hiding from? a blind man?) and go to work (gun included) in a port that is so polluted half of us walk around with rags on our faces to keep from inhaling to dust and what not in the air. I swear, I saw a dead cat floating in the water. That almost made me cry. Cats are not gonna jump off of a fucking pier. It ain't gonna happen, so somebody threw the cat in, and it was floating halfway under the ship. It was horrible. Why do people do that? I guess I can't expect them to love each other if we can't even love simple, innocent animals. I mean, these cats don't do anything except eat what we throw out, essentially they are helping the environment. They even shit in a litter box type pan. Don't ask how they got trained to do that. And they stay away from us, so why kill one? They don't bother anybody. People suck. I hate what I am sometimes because I am human. I don't want to be perfect, I just want to be able to exist in a world where people get along with each other, we don't pick on one another because of differences and weaknesses. I mean, not everybody is thin, not everybody is beautiful, and not everybody is smart. Why can't we just accept that and get on with our day. Instead we turn against the ones that need help, need compassion, need understanding, and most importantly need friends. I know I am not ugly or stupid, but I suffer some serious issues because when I left my home in VA, some people just started fucking with me right away because I was different. I was quiet, from the city and just tried to keep to myself, but a certain group of assholes harassed me pretty much the rest of the time I was at that school. I guess in the later years I could have forgiven them, but I still begrudge them and any people I run across that are like them here, even though now I am never a target. At least I hold one thing above them. Most of the assholes I dealt with are still living in that god forsaken town and doing the same damn shit, still buying weed off the same damn people. Nothing in their lives will change. They have reached a stalemate which they will never breach. I however, have moved on, and am out in the world doing many different things, having experiences they'll never have, seeing different countries. In a way I have them to thank. Thanks to them I knew that my place in this world was not in that piss poor town. They made that clear. I knew I had to leave, get the fuck out. And I did, first opportunity. Those few friends that I did make, don't miss me now that I'm gone. They know how to reach me if they wanted, they don't even bother to try to see me when I come home. I always call, we make plans, they blow me off. Nothing new, its the same as high school I suppose. I have one person in that town, other than my family who still cares. Well, maybe two. Do my supposed friends even care that I may die out here? I doubt it. They probably don't even realize what the fuck I'm doing here, if they even know I'm here. I'm out now. I think I hate everybody sometimes. I need something more to occupy my time. I just THINK way to much about shit that hurts to think about and then I hate. Maybe I need to hate. Maybe the day will come when I have to raise my gun against another fellow human, and I will have the hate inside of me to make me able to pull the trigger. Hate is such an awful feeling though. It makes your chest feel heavy. Well, Good night, god bless, and LOVE THY NEIGHBOR

I think we're all just a little crazy

I just finished reading this book, and I'm sure most everybody has heard of the movie, Girl Interupted. Well, I read it, and I didn't think Susanna seemed all that crazy. Her thoughts didn't seem that far from most teenagers. However, one chapter in that book is taken from a medical journal, describing her diagnosis. I went WHOA, cuz that diagnosis was describing me almost perfectly. Now, I've had my bouts with depression, mood swings and plenty of people will tell me I'm crazy on a regular basis, but DAMN, I didn't think that they were serious. I took some personality tests back to back. One says I care about nothing and like nothing, the other says I care deeply about ppl, help them and yada yada. Uh, how do you do both? You either care to some degree or you don't right? The sad thing is depending on my mood they're both right. So am I crazy or are there more ppl like me (and susanna) in the world. I'm just wondering because in my opinion, she should not have been in that mental institution. She's not crazy, she was just a teenager, and everybody's a little crazy anyways. Read the book to know what I'm talking about, the movie doesn't go into it.

about the pinapples

A funny anecdote from my time in the desert. Written sometime in early 06.

I hate pinapple, I hate football. A couple a days ago, I'm wondering around with my buddy and we're looking for something to do. Wanted to watch a movie or something. Well, the theater was playing football. The mwr tent had football on one tv and news on the other. We settled for news, till several ppl (rude assholes) requested that the damn game be turned on that tv, so we go to the dfac, at his insistance. By this point I'm thoroughly aggravated and hating football even more. I politely inform him that if we go into the dfac (caffeteria) and football is on all of the tv's, I will dump hot coffee on him. Sadly, I didn't make due with my threat because, well, I'm not that mean. The next day, we meet for dinner, and have the same problem with the dfac...Every tv is tuned to FOOTBALL....His comment, while eating a slice of the detested fruit and offering me a bite " nothing enhances the football experience like pinapple" Althought I could not maim him with coffee, I did throw a grape at him. Unfortunately, it wasnt a mushy one, but a nice fresh firm one ,that bounced off and rolled. Presumably to safety under the table where it wouldn't be smooshed. Well, there's my sadly lame, slightly hilarious story. If you don't think its funny, sit in a desert for three months, where your main form of entertainment is throwing rocks at ppl in portapotties... that shit is funny. Anyways, you get my point. Its boring here, stupid shit seems funny.

So in love

Is it possible to love somebody too much? Being so in love that you would give up your entire life, all of your friends, just to be with them. Give up all of your dreams, just simply to be able to be around to make them happy? The truly beautiful thing being that they don't want you to. They have more faith in you than you do in yourself. They are sure you can accomplish your dreams, encourage you to go out, not only with your old friends, but to make new ones too. Giving you the freedom that you've always wanted, and the support you always needed. Yet you're afraid that it can't simply be this good? With every silver lining comes a dark cloud right? So out of fear, and unjustified insecurities, you search for the bad. Every little thing means so much more. You fly off the handle at the slightest provocation, so sure of the old saying, if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Especially when once upon a time, the same man, the same one who is so supportive, giving, sweet, devoted, the same man that pledged to love you forever and always, is the one that broke your heart worse than all the others? Can the frog really be turned into prince charming? Is the maiden justified in wondering if one day, her prince is going to turn back into a warty toad? She loved the toad as it was, a relationship was just too hard to work out. Now, it just seems, simply too good to be true.

I truly appreciate all he has done for me. Everything I've ever hoped for in a man, and more, is what my husband has become. I love him truly and dearly, and all I want in life is to make him happy, at least as happy as he has made me. I'm sorry for all the times I've let my insecurities take control.

A turle named puppy and my dead pet gold fish

Okay, so I went in to feed Puppy today, and I found him dead in his tank. The thought of touching a dead turtle disturbs me, so I'm either going to have the guy upstairs take him out, or wait until the husband comes home. I still haven't decided if Puppy needs a burial at sea or not.

And yes, I named a turtle puppy. Puppy was rescued from some juvenile men who decided it would be fun to torture a turtle that was so tiny he could sit on your thumb. I put him in a cleaned take out container, and took him home. I was mad at my man because he had said I couldn't have a real puppy, and he was out of town, so I played a little joke on him. I sent him an email telling him how cute my new Puppy was. His face when he came home was priceless!!! So, back to the story. Puppy lived with us, for a few months, happily sunning on his rock, and swimming in his pool. Then, one day, I found him dead...

Well, the thought of leaving him in his tank triggered a memory of my dead pet fish, or perhaps in this case, it'd be better to say my pet dead fish. Now, I have a long history of killing things that live in tanks, fish, newts, frogs, now turtles. They just don't blend well with me I guess. However, I had a fish, won at a carnival by my little brother, that lasted for a very long time. We're talking years here. As it was a goldfish, I named him Goldie, but sometimes I called him Lester for short. Well, Goldie/Lester was a good fish. He never demanded much attention, forgave me if I forgot to feed him. He managed to live for many years, alone in his tank. We tried to give him friends, but alas, they were short lived. Well, I'm sure you're going to be thinking that this is going to be a tale of woe, for my beloved fish obviously died. However, I was not living at home when my fish died. He perished under the care of my brother (kid probably actually fed him every week and he overate or something... I dunno, maybe he was old). When I decided to come home again, I found my fish dead in the bottom of the tank. I was a little sad at first, and told my brother to remove the dead fish. However, I was told it was my fish, my problem (EWWW). So, I started looking at Goldie/Lester. He was bloated, skin transparent, and you could perfectly see his skeleton. It was an interesting sight to say the least. As the battle of wills raged on between my brother and I (you clean it... no, you clean it), I started to grow accustomed to this new form of Lester. No, that's not right, I was down right fond of him. Every morning, when I came home from work, well, that's stretching it a bit..., As frequently as I did before his demise, I started checking in on Goldie. Occasionally, I would sprinkle food flakes in his home/ grave. He became, my dead pet goldfish. I don't know that there is a moral to this story. If you are wondering what happened to him, I don't know. I went to boot camp about 4 months after I came home.. I just thought I'd share that story with the world. I kinda miss that fish tho.