Day 56

it's colder now, i'm becoming accustomed to the air and to layers. the air is thinner and my lungs are always healing and adapting; i can feel it in the wind and i feel it in my chest. today is thanksgiving, a strange holiday in itself, mainly because it's based on a fib and a road that led to a lot of suffering. still, despite it's origin, it is one of my favorite holiday, perhaps because when you peal away the layers of phoniness, it really is simply about being with people you love and counting your blessings. everyday i count my lucky stars that my eyes open and my legs work and my lungs still draw breath. i wish i was home with my friends who are my family and my family who are starting to become my friends. still though, i am very thankful for being as blessed as i am.

Day 49

cabin fever, stir crazy. i've found more skipping rocks in afghanistan than anywhere else i've ever been; now i just need to find water.
west goes on leave in couple days.

Day 40

how strange it is to tell people you are something you are not. it's weird when someone reveals to you that they are malcolm x, when it's very obvious they are not. how can it be that king kong ain't got shit on me? i am dead to me. i am an anomaly. my entire body is covered with rosy lesions that ache and itch and make me wish i was a dog so it would be perfectly honky-dory for me to tear my teeth into the skin of my arms and claw my legs whenever i please. we are nothing without our appearances. i don't want to walk or move or do anything, i want to scratch at myself and it's gotten to my head. i want a new body. 

Day 37

i have finally arrived, i finally have a bed and a desk and a central heating system. i have an office space and i have the wire. for being such in a sad, lonely part of the world-this place isn't half bad.

Day 35

four weeks of solace. thumbs twiddling, heels kicking, holding horses, and killing nothing but time.
that time has been rubbed out and bled dry and it is time to get my hands wet and my feet dirty. i'm not going to mislead myself by saying that i'm overjoyed, however i'd be stretching it to say that i am intrigued and a little excited to get this ball rolling. my confidence in my abilities extends far past the confidence i have in my lungs. i need to stop smoking, it isn't a want, it is a necessity. i stare at those sawtooth mountains, tall as giants whose heads peak through the clouds, and i am taken aback. these lungs needs breath more than ever and i aim to give that to him. along with trying to stop biting my nails, nipping my smokie treat habit in the bud will make up two of my four new years resolutions.
there is no telling what may come as the months advance, i need to stay clear minded and vigilant.

Day 33 pt. 3

it is astounding how the passing of days or even hours can bring upon the change in moods. like that of the tides, they so effortlessly can rise and fall without a moments notice. news of quality can reach my ears and lift my spirits; however, well received news hardly lifts my soul like that of my love. she pulls my heart from the ashes and sets it on fire. her passion and affinity for me gives me faith in notions i had, at one time thought to be unfounded. she is spectacular when she doesn't realize it, and those fleeting moments of complete and utter vulnerability that i am crippled by the breathtaking magnitude of my love for her. in her various stages of undressed, both in her body and in her soul, when i see her in total nakedness with no threads or walls around her i know the meaning of love and life. she would do anything to please me, and i her. when she is i would burn the entire world to cinders to see her satisfied. i would let ships of fortune and capital set sail just to see that she stays mine forever and always.
still the thought of success after my return to the states is appealing. i have always lived by the criteria that if i end up slaving over a desk from nine in the morning to five in the afternoon that i would be better suited ending my life. i write that statement not to imply that a a man who puts his nose to the grindstone behind a desk are anything to be mocked, i simply have always felt that there was something more for me. i dream far too much and far to great to be stuck world so compact; my heart yearns and craves to create, to connect, and to be share my imagination with souls who are like minded. and i will, i am determined and my resolve is stronger than it has ever been. however, i don't wish to fool myself, i have no qualms with poverty, it is not about money, it is about not falling in place to some predestined life. i will do what i want, what i was designed to do. for the benefit of me and for the benefit of the one who i want to one day be my bride.

Day 33 pt. 2

i can't rip it from my head or my heart. all i want to do is spend the rest of my life with one person. i am so undoubtadly smitten it makes my soul flutter with life. i am beyond in love.

Day 33: my 22 birthday

i can see my futures, they are set before my feet and i watch them over and over again until my mind feels as if it is bursting with numbness. on my left i see the months ahead leading me back home, into the arms of my love. everything i've endured accumulating into the moment when she is finally back home in my arms; i am alive. and then i look upon my right, and i am greeted with new misery. i can see them, carrying my casket and playing their fucking songs of sorrow. what a sad procession as they carry me off leaving everything i've loved and known behind, i can see the tears and i can see the bitterness.
is this god real? is there any use in calling on a thing that i so often rebuke and denounce? what end will he see me to? i want nothing more than to pass through this darkness, but doesn't everyman who steps foot on these savage grounds? don't boys of more faith and conviction ask god for his protection everyday, only to have their requests fall upon deaf ears? these men put their trust in something that in the end has no barring on their survival. who am i to ask for god, i don't even have the slightest notion in my heart if i believe that he exists and yet as i stood outside in the middle of the night staring at the stars above, why did i wrestle with my heart to call out to him? i have struggled with the thought of him since i can remember, and only been left with a fear of hell and now as i stare hell in the face i have no idea what i think. i am damned to sit on a fence of questions and unrest.
if there is a god above that listens to the calls of small men with hard hearts, then all i ask is that i come home, in one piece, to my love so i can continue to sit on my fence of debate and concern.

Day 32

i've been here for a month now. it's strange to think about how fast the month has gone by, however upon further thinking, it's been very long. i feel like this time here is going to drag by and never end, i mean in all honesty a year is a long time when you're doing something you hate. i've lost the will to fight so lets get another term for the week:

AC Slater | ā.cˈslātər |   verb












1. the act of defecating on toilet while facing the wrong direction. Much like how AC Slater sits in a chair when he's at the Maxx. A true Slater consists of not only facing the wrong direction but being able to cross your arms and rest on the back of the toilet. (see image below)

 

see also: slatering, slaterizing, slater dump