I love nature and all of the arts, but writing is my main passion. At 34, I've already lived an eventful and interesting life. I hope you'll check out my stories and enjoy them. Peace.
Lost in the Woods 5
It was night, late. 2300 to be exact. We were formed up in the main courtyard in front of the barracks, getting ready for an evening run. I guess another part of the whole show was to ware us down hard just before lights out, then deprive us of sleep. That's something that they still do to me, six years later. Constantly being awakened just as I'm falling to sleep, was tough. Now it's a reflex. As I stood in formation that night, fighting the sharp excruciating pain from the massive infection in my right leg, trying not to grimace and trying not to limp; I gave up. Nearly two weeks of trying to hide my injury got me nothing, my PT scores dipped and I was irritable from the pain. So when my Senior DS walked the formation and asked if anyone had to report an injury, or go to the CTMC I reluctantly raised my arm and was shuffled into a single file line with the "sickies".
Lost in the Woods Pt.4
Early on, this young guy got put on profile for asthma, and for some reason starting sleeping on a cot in the middle of the platoon bay. Unfortunately, I'd figure out his story in fine detail shortly after I became aware of him. If I recall, this was in fact the week wee started combatives training (combat self defense, hand to hand combat). What a trip; we matched out to a large hanger that I'd say was 50 yards long and 25 wide, with pull up bars lining the outer walls, and the entire floor covered in gym mats. The entire company was taking part. After some instruction, we got to the fun. on our backs, arms up and bent at 90 degrees, fist over the face in a guard position, and legs up and bent at 90 degrees with toes up we were to rock our bodies back and forth while shifting sideways to move ourselves across the entire length of the floor. Down and back, 3 times. Arms and legs up, rocking and shifting, using every muscle in our bodies to gain 3 inches each rep, 50 yards down, 50 yards back (now that I think of it, this hangar may have been longer) 3 times.
These are many written quotes that I came up with over the course of several years while I was very, very intoxicated. There may be wisdom here, or there may be nonsense. I will maintain however despite any incoming criticism that I have an active mind. Sometimes I surprise myself, and sometimes I disappoint myself, and you. You don't have to get me to get this...It's just a bunch of things that I either thought, or think, or think that I thought. Just under different names...
Lost in the Woods Pt.3
"I guess we'll see how strong our bond really is, we'll see if you still want to be there when I get home, I may not have much of a future, but I won't know that until they decide to tell me. I'll survive this mess whether I get lucky or get screwed. we'll see." (from my journal, November 2016).
Lost in the Woods Pt.2
"It's difficult to be upset about it, and what probably lies ahead because in the end the course of ones life is determined by the choices they make, and I made several while on this path, as a man, knowing the risks and staying the course. People don't rise from nothing anymore, many have lied and cheated their way to success, but it can't be done from the bottom of the heap." (from my journal, November 2016).
Lost in the Woods(Part 1)
I have worn out my mind over the last five years, thinking of all the different ways I should or could tell the story of my experiences in basic combat training at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri during the Autumn and Winter of 2016. Equal to that, and often occurring simultaneously, are the thoughts of why. Why tell the story? Is it even worth sharing? It is after all, a story that is deeply personal; and one simply never knows how certain things will be received. I would hate to go through the emotional labor of harkening back to it all in my mind; reliving the memories, good and bad, and then somehow getting it to paper only to have it fall flat, unread, unheard, and irrelevant. This worry accompanies nearly everything I write, but this story especially; not because of some horrific, mind bending series of events that would break the internet, but because of the trivial nature of the whole damn experience. I wonder if people will begin reading this, expecting some fantastic tale of perseverance, or coming of age, or of uncommon hardship, or outrageous circumstance, and move on from it without connecting with it, or feeling even a remnant of what I felt. What if you don't care? This is not, and never has been an inspiring story; nor was it a very inspiring experience, at least not to me. What it is, is a story of misfortune, self doubt, and failure. In the end you'll have almost as many answers as I do about life, and love, and me. Maybe you'll know me a little better, that can't hurt; Unless you're an asshole, then you'll have more fuel to keep thinking poorly of me. I don't look back on it the the same way I did in the immediate aftermath, or two years later, or even last month for that matter. So, if you care to know what BCT was like for me, keep reading.
Cold Gray Sky
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I wouldn't know, I've never left the atmosphere. There are many that do leave from what I hear over the com stat, but it takes a lot of social credit just to break the mesosphere for a day. To get off world completely is nearly impossible. I know that I will never leave this world, as cold and gray as it is. There's been talk of another lottery, but I hate to gamble. To play you have to gamble 10% of your social credit, if you lose you lose 20%. So, I abstain from the lottery and live contently with my dreams of worlds beyond my cold gray sky.
The Apollo Searcher
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But when you're out here long enough you find that there are things; countless things, that defy what the big heads back home understand about space and time. They would probably tell you that I'm loosing it; that I'm suffering from a Psychosis, something that they started calling "Terrestrial Aphasia" about 25 years ago. Nobody knew anything about it for generations; "Psyches" and "Physies" started noticing a trend in their research on Stellar Marines and pilots that had served longer than normal tours in deep space. They were hearing schist...Lot's of schist: Solar flares, Quasar pulses, Black hole vacuums, and loudest of all...Screams. For years they've theorized that it's some kind of psychosomatic disorder, that develops in humans when they're beyond line of sight of the Earth for too long. This is also how they define deep space service, "service beyond line of sight of the home planet, and outside of the first Galactic time zone." A soldier becomes ungrounded in deep space, and begins to loose their military bearing, along with all concept of a terrestrial home. We begin to change and become one with the emptiness of space; our bones and muscles shrink, metabolism increases, inhibitions slowly decrease, and 3rd dimensional senses begin to blur. We have routines based on centuries of research to keep some of it at bay but still, here we are. The "Conspies" say, as long as they're still allowed to, that the big heads are denying evidence of a rift in space-time that allows motion of celestial bodies to be perceived by human faculties through the vacuum of space. Still, It doesn't explain the screams... So, Here I am.