this whole ordeal is slowly coming to a close, i should be home in a few weeks. some aspects feel as if they dragged on unbearably, and yet other parts feel as if they rocketed by. i barely wrote in this, but i think that there were some honest and therapeutic moments within the entries. it's nice to be able to write without feeling guarded. i don't know if i'll really take much more time to jot down thoughts in here anymore, perhaps one or two more times. i think after all is said and done, i may just save the writings and shut down the blog, it has served it's purpose well.
i can hardly wait.
these are a few things that i am looking forward to upon my return home in the next couple weeks:
-being with my girlfriend again.
-being touched.
-my new car (2006 scion xb)
-starting a new band with my old band.
-hanging out with my friends.
-showering without wearing sandals.
-drinking water in a cup with ice.
-not being shot at.
-using a real toilet instead of a porta-potty.
-being around people that are interesting.
-wearing normal clothing.
-real internet as opposed to this AOL '98 internet.
-real food.
-sushi.
-beer.
-not writing in here anymore.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Day 240
everybody is fucking everybody. a bunch of reptiles if you ask me. these land beasts slither around on their bellies, presenting their oozing pheromone holes, endlessly radiating the ugly stink of carnal knowledge. sap filled pricks fill humming bikini biscuits for the sake of advancement. airing the orchid.
What happened to men like Steve McQueen. that joe was no reptilian; very warm blooded. i mean, Steve might have fucked you stupid, but you weren't gonna get an undeserved promotion out of it, thats for damn sure. bastards. how can one respect any of the mongrels in this low-rent organizations? i used to, but you have a girlfriend, and besides this one is such a bicycle. if this is how we get promotions these days, i'm fine where i am.
What happened to men like Steve McQueen. that joe was no reptilian; very warm blooded. i mean, Steve might have fucked you stupid, but you weren't gonna get an undeserved promotion out of it, thats for damn sure. bastards. how can one respect any of the mongrels in this low-rent organizations? i used to, but you have a girlfriend, and besides this one is such a bicycle. if this is how we get promotions these days, i'm fine where i am.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Day 238
first and foremost, i've come to understand that this entire war is one botched miscalculation. a failed lab experiment, where the researchers are fully aware of their failure--but due to steady stream of tax payer funding, they continue to drive on and fight the good fight. this whole operation is one colossally mismanaged fools errand. what could we ever hope to accomplish in this wasteland? it seems strikingly apparent that we are operating as a hive mind, in the back of everyone's skulls we know that we are merely riding the tide, but still we press forward with the task at hand. all these bases look like ant farms anyways. where are the queen bee's quarters located? i would very much like to find her dwellings set the leeches on her.
what i am left with are questions--yes, there are answers, but the solutions seem daft and full of holes. why on earth would anyone chose to come to a place like this on their own accord? they must be raving--afflicted with a deep madness at the center of their being. perhaps, this is a madness that can not be detected with modern tools. the means to diagnose this particular case of lunacy is simple to unsound at this current juncture. or what if, even more likely, there is a blanket curse running through all of our veins? an old witch doctor, black as night with a bone pierced through his nose is rubbing his hands together over the cauldron while spitting ancient cajun slurs and curses through the cracks in his teeth. that whore! how can we ever hope to defeat such swine--i haven't the faintest clue how to navigate my way through the bayou, the chances of me finding this foul, black, beast on my own is slim and getting slimmer.
surely, this is the only logical explanation for why i am over here, all other avenues seem to lead back to this same rudimentary conclusion. every single local national has a dark heart and a mind full of rape and murder. i can't look at a single one of them without thinking of all the hot Arabian nights they have spent, pumping deep inside the guts of a young boy, as he thrusts further, the beads of sweat pour down his face of leather--the beads of sweat that give off the countries national stench. what an incestuous landlocked terrain. it must be the mountains and their magic that drive these men towards such vile acts against both god and nature. it has been said, that some mountains produce healing powers, the same goes for deserts and their supernatural cacti flowers. for all one knows, these mountains could be putting off an aura of defilement and butchery. conceivably, we are all drawn towards their song, like some manifest destiny or a right of passage dance. we must concur the devil cliffs as a means to restore the natural order of things to their right place. it is, after all what the doctor is ordering. we must rid these once great lands of their wicked ways, this is our crusade. we will take over where the goddess Isis and her husband Osiris left off, making this a fertile land; impregnating good, clean, american values into her belly--and so she will lay on her back and from in between her legs will spew beautiful soccer moms, driving their younglings to and from soccer practice, and then back to their two story home with a view of all the other two story homes that are modeled after all the other two store homes. from the loins of land will come advertising executives and grain mill workers, just clocking in and clocking out to feed their future soccer stars. highway ripping red ford mustangs and H1 hummers will blast out of her uterus sending a shock wave up her spine. they will be followed by minivans and mid size sedans full of McDonalds hamburger wrappers and crushed Dr. Pepper cans, piloted by working class folk stiffs with blue tooth headpieces in their ears, gabbing away about stock prices, mergers, acquisitions, and last nights episode of "the x-factor." old bluebird buses convoying dozens of bright and talented future stars of soccer to their respective places of learning, lastly a rust orange 1971 volkswagon beetle with a sloppy peace sign painted on the hood, transporting veggie and tofu eating, hemp wearing hippies who refuse to give up the cause, will sluggishly squeeze its way out of this territories snatch. her fields will be rowed with strip malls and corn fields for miles a few low income houses will be peppered in for the sake of continuity. cities will sprout up here and there, with beautiful business districts for the mustangs and sedans to park in. bohemian loft style apartments above bars and little boutique clothing stores. housing projects with crack heads and hookers and poor, battered women trying to feed their poor, battered children and their gang banger boyfriends. poor immigrants stacked ceiling high in a studio for one. alley ways and skyscrapers, billboards and newsstands, commerce and the hustle and bustle that follows. all of this, because of a witch doctor and a few million poor, unfortunate souls.
what i am left with are questions--yes, there are answers, but the solutions seem daft and full of holes. why on earth would anyone chose to come to a place like this on their own accord? they must be raving--afflicted with a deep madness at the center of their being. perhaps, this is a madness that can not be detected with modern tools. the means to diagnose this particular case of lunacy is simple to unsound at this current juncture. or what if, even more likely, there is a blanket curse running through all of our veins? an old witch doctor, black as night with a bone pierced through his nose is rubbing his hands together over the cauldron while spitting ancient cajun slurs and curses through the cracks in his teeth. that whore! how can we ever hope to defeat such swine--i haven't the faintest clue how to navigate my way through the bayou, the chances of me finding this foul, black, beast on my own is slim and getting slimmer.
surely, this is the only logical explanation for why i am over here, all other avenues seem to lead back to this same rudimentary conclusion. every single local national has a dark heart and a mind full of rape and murder. i can't look at a single one of them without thinking of all the hot Arabian nights they have spent, pumping deep inside the guts of a young boy, as he thrusts further, the beads of sweat pour down his face of leather--the beads of sweat that give off the countries national stench. what an incestuous landlocked terrain. it must be the mountains and their magic that drive these men towards such vile acts against both god and nature. it has been said, that some mountains produce healing powers, the same goes for deserts and their supernatural cacti flowers. for all one knows, these mountains could be putting off an aura of defilement and butchery. conceivably, we are all drawn towards their song, like some manifest destiny or a right of passage dance. we must concur the devil cliffs as a means to restore the natural order of things to their right place. it is, after all what the doctor is ordering. we must rid these once great lands of their wicked ways, this is our crusade. we will take over where the goddess Isis and her husband Osiris left off, making this a fertile land; impregnating good, clean, american values into her belly--and so she will lay on her back and from in between her legs will spew beautiful soccer moms, driving their younglings to and from soccer practice, and then back to their two story home with a view of all the other two story homes that are modeled after all the other two store homes. from the loins of land will come advertising executives and grain mill workers, just clocking in and clocking out to feed their future soccer stars. highway ripping red ford mustangs and H1 hummers will blast out of her uterus sending a shock wave up her spine. they will be followed by minivans and mid size sedans full of McDonalds hamburger wrappers and crushed Dr. Pepper cans, piloted by working class folk stiffs with blue tooth headpieces in their ears, gabbing away about stock prices, mergers, acquisitions, and last nights episode of "the x-factor." old bluebird buses convoying dozens of bright and talented future stars of soccer to their respective places of learning, lastly a rust orange 1971 volkswagon beetle with a sloppy peace sign painted on the hood, transporting veggie and tofu eating, hemp wearing hippies who refuse to give up the cause, will sluggishly squeeze its way out of this territories snatch. her fields will be rowed with strip malls and corn fields for miles a few low income houses will be peppered in for the sake of continuity. cities will sprout up here and there, with beautiful business districts for the mustangs and sedans to park in. bohemian loft style apartments above bars and little boutique clothing stores. housing projects with crack heads and hookers and poor, battered women trying to feed their poor, battered children and their gang banger boyfriends. poor immigrants stacked ceiling high in a studio for one. alley ways and skyscrapers, billboards and newsstands, commerce and the hustle and bustle that follows. all of this, because of a witch doctor and a few million poor, unfortunate souls.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Day 184
i have been remembering all my dreams recently. this is a new development for me; more often than not i don't remember a single second of my dreams. this has been happening for years. all of the sudden in the past week or so i can remember vivid details of my dreams. i think this is a good and a bad thing.
-YtWt
-YtWt
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Day 179
since i last wrote,
january wrapped itself up, february ate itself as well. I was home for parts of both months, so it goes without saying that both of them went by so fast i hardly had a moment to catch my breath. now march is here, and it's so close to being over but the days slide along like a slug on hot concrete. i wish i had the will to talk about my leave, but it already feels as if it was ages ago. this is fine, because now i only have going home to look forward to. one important date to the next. three months, maybe three and a half until i am home, maybe four... who knows, out of harms way by that point.
the winter is over, while i was in afghanistan, it was mild, to say the least. maybe i missed all the highlights, or maybe it was just wasn't a banner year for afghanistan. but now dog days are upon me, sultry days with sweat beads and exhaustion. i can feel them riding the heels of the hundred days of wind. the men around the base curse more than often and their posture is more aggressive, maybe that comes with the heat or maybe it comes with the heat. despite the rising tide of warmer weather, surely to bring more war, i feel solace. i have seen things that no one should see, perhaps i bury them or choose to not let them to break down the walls i have built around myself while in the place; whatever the case may be, i continue to feel comforted. this is not to say that i don't worry, because that isn't the case, by any means. often, my paranoia will get the best of me and i will lay awake, tossing and turning, wondering what moves will be played next. the comfort from this comes from being constantly wrong. in these times of cases, it is perfectly acceptable and admirable to be wrong. just because you believe though, doesn't always make mean it doesn't exist.
in the other room there are people watching 'night court' on the constantly blue hued flatscreen television. i sometimes forget 'night court' was even a show, even though it was one of the biggest shows in the 70's and 80's. everything exists somewhere. what a strange world.
-YtWt
january wrapped itself up, february ate itself as well. I was home for parts of both months, so it goes without saying that both of them went by so fast i hardly had a moment to catch my breath. now march is here, and it's so close to being over but the days slide along like a slug on hot concrete. i wish i had the will to talk about my leave, but it already feels as if it was ages ago. this is fine, because now i only have going home to look forward to. one important date to the next. three months, maybe three and a half until i am home, maybe four... who knows, out of harms way by that point.
the winter is over, while i was in afghanistan, it was mild, to say the least. maybe i missed all the highlights, or maybe it was just wasn't a banner year for afghanistan. but now dog days are upon me, sultry days with sweat beads and exhaustion. i can feel them riding the heels of the hundred days of wind. the men around the base curse more than often and their posture is more aggressive, maybe that comes with the heat or maybe it comes with the heat. despite the rising tide of warmer weather, surely to bring more war, i feel solace. i have seen things that no one should see, perhaps i bury them or choose to not let them to break down the walls i have built around myself while in the place; whatever the case may be, i continue to feel comforted. this is not to say that i don't worry, because that isn't the case, by any means. often, my paranoia will get the best of me and i will lay awake, tossing and turning, wondering what moves will be played next. the comfort from this comes from being constantly wrong. in these times of cases, it is perfectly acceptable and admirable to be wrong. just because you believe though, doesn't always make mean it doesn't exist.
in the other room there are people watching 'night court' on the constantly blue hued flatscreen television. i sometimes forget 'night court' was even a show, even though it was one of the biggest shows in the 70's and 80's. everything exists somewhere. what a strange world.
-YtWt
Monday, January 17, 2011
Day 108
i want to get married. i'm not really sure if that is normal for guys my age. but then again, i'm not too sure what constitutes something or someone being normal. i feel as if i am ready, and i think i've found the one, so why wait?
i will be home in about a week.
i will be home in about a week.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Day 102
i try my hardest to stay away from the fried foods, but everyone has their moments of weakness. my weakness is not measured in instances, but rather a single item. i have such a hard time staying away from cheese sticks when they are available. what a little piggy i become when i see those greased up, fried treasure sticks. today i ate 603 calories of cheese sticks. the obvious declaration that should follow a statement like that is how much i regret eating that terrible shit, i don't regret a single thing.that terrible shit tastes good.
 |
| fig. 1 a golden cheese stick prior to being devoured |
 |
| fig. 2 a golden cheese stick midway through being devoured |
Monday, January 10, 2011
Day 101
I woke today with light flooding in my room. we have a metal door that has a metal latch, which can be locked from either the outside or the inside. this is not much different from a normal door, however there is one key difference in the way this door operates: if the door is latched from the outside, the people inside will be locked in and vice-versa. in the mornings this can be troublesome due to the fact that we all wake up at different times. if the person who wakes first exits the room, the door will stay open until someone gets out of bed and latches it shut from the inside. at this point the person who crawled from under their sheets to fix the light flood problem is now fully awake, and will more likely than not just stay awake, get dressed, and head finally for the office; thus leaving the last person in the room with the same open door predicament that the first person left the second person. the same problem can arise from the outside as well. since we all leave the office at different times in the night, the last person to come back to the room can often be stranded in the cold for a few moments as they bang on the locked door, which will wake everyone up, forcing them to get get out of bed and unlock the door. both of these scenarios can be very bothersome, so my team and i, being the bright and resourceful individuals we are, devised a seemingly foolproof plan for entering and exiting the room. when you leave the room in the morning, if you take the latch and slide it over just enough to catch on the other end, but not enough to full lock the door, the door will stay shut. the people in the room will be able to pull the door and it will swing open. the same works for the inside. no longer does the individual have to knock on the door, now they can just push the door open with the slightest ease, and PRESTO they are in the warm room and their roommates are still fast asleep. win-win.
now i feel that it's necessary to reveal that this plan is not without it's flaws, the biggest of which is the amount of fineness and dexterity it requires to get the latch in perfect, door shutting, position. i am not going to say that this task is anywhere comparable to rocket surgery, but i will say that there are two fatal mistakes that can be made. the first of which being: the person can fail in moving the latch over enough, even though the door will hold and give the illusion that the endevor has been completed. nothing could be further from the truth, for the moment they walk away the weight of the door will overpower the latch which is holding onto the receiver by the tips of it's fingers. in anywhere from five seconds to five minutes time, the door will lazily open, bringing with it the overwhelming light of morning. the second error is significantly more problematic, if the individual leaving the room moves the latch over too far, the people in the room are going to be locked inside for any number of hours. now, i'm not trying to throw anyone out to the wolves, but my esteemed colleague in the airborne, corporal west, is not good at either of the aforementioned skills. not only does he constantly lock the door from the inside, making it where i have to knock late at night, but he has also locked us in on several occasions. today however, he committed his greatest display of door/latch incompetence. i will explain:
first west wakes up and leaves the room, he tries the loose latch method and fails, a few moments later the door swings open, i wake up, shut the door, and lock it, once i get back in bed west comes back and wants to get in the room so he starts knocking, (it should be noted that the only time it is acceptable to fully lock the door is in the mornings), i get up and let him in (unbeknownst to me he had just gone to the bathroom), i begrudgingly get back into bed, west changes clothes and heads for the office, realizing the error in his first attempt of the day he slides the latch over too far, thus locking us in, flash forward a half an hour, i get up to go to the bathroom, try to open the door, however i quickly realize that the door is not going to open, i sit on my bed for a moment contemplating my next move, finally come to the conclusion that he isn't coming back anytime soon and i have a serious problem that needs to be taken care of, search through the dark for a water bottle, drink all of it, pee in it, and go back to bed, not even 5 minutes later west comes back to the room, opens the door and grabs one of his romance novels, shuts the door, this time he goes with the loose method and fails, a few moments later the door swings open again, and i am up for the day.
UPDATE:
it has just come to my attention, via my esteemed colleague in the airborne, sergeant wise, that upon my exit from the room, i failed the loose latch method. apparently, five minutes after i headed for the office, the door swung open. thus proving once and for all the amount of total concentration this task requires.
now i feel that it's necessary to reveal that this plan is not without it's flaws, the biggest of which is the amount of fineness and dexterity it requires to get the latch in perfect, door shutting, position. i am not going to say that this task is anywhere comparable to rocket surgery, but i will say that there are two fatal mistakes that can be made. the first of which being: the person can fail in moving the latch over enough, even though the door will hold and give the illusion that the endevor has been completed. nothing could be further from the truth, for the moment they walk away the weight of the door will overpower the latch which is holding onto the receiver by the tips of it's fingers. in anywhere from five seconds to five minutes time, the door will lazily open, bringing with it the overwhelming light of morning. the second error is significantly more problematic, if the individual leaving the room moves the latch over too far, the people in the room are going to be locked inside for any number of hours. now, i'm not trying to throw anyone out to the wolves, but my esteemed colleague in the airborne, corporal west, is not good at either of the aforementioned skills. not only does he constantly lock the door from the inside, making it where i have to knock late at night, but he has also locked us in on several occasions. today however, he committed his greatest display of door/latch incompetence. i will explain:
first west wakes up and leaves the room, he tries the loose latch method and fails, a few moments later the door swings open, i wake up, shut the door, and lock it, once i get back in bed west comes back and wants to get in the room so he starts knocking, (it should be noted that the only time it is acceptable to fully lock the door is in the mornings), i get up and let him in (unbeknownst to me he had just gone to the bathroom), i begrudgingly get back into bed, west changes clothes and heads for the office, realizing the error in his first attempt of the day he slides the latch over too far, thus locking us in, flash forward a half an hour, i get up to go to the bathroom, try to open the door, however i quickly realize that the door is not going to open, i sit on my bed for a moment contemplating my next move, finally come to the conclusion that he isn't coming back anytime soon and i have a serious problem that needs to be taken care of, search through the dark for a water bottle, drink all of it, pee in it, and go back to bed, not even 5 minutes later west comes back to the room, opens the door and grabs one of his romance novels, shuts the door, this time he goes with the loose method and fails, a few moments later the door swings open again, and i am up for the day.
 |
| fig. 1 the fully locked position |
 | |
| fig. 2 the loose latch position |
it has just come to my attention, via my esteemed colleague in the airborne, sergeant wise, that upon my exit from the room, i failed the loose latch method. apparently, five minutes after i headed for the office, the door swung open. thus proving once and for all the amount of total concentration this task requires.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Day 100
i've been overseas for one hundred days, i honestly couldn't answer if i was asked whether or not it has felt like a long time or not. this tour is about 1/3 of the way through, thinking about it in those terms it seems like i will never be home. however, this is not the case.. i will be home in two weeks.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Day 99
it may sound trite but i really feel that when i woke up this morning, i'd turned over a new leaf. i feel as if everything is going to be right in the world.
i am a very lucky man. i want to know all the love i've got.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Day 97
this is my wartime diet and exercise routine:
every morning i wake up and eat a special k bar and drink a bottle of water with two packets of emergen-c in it, i take two immune system booster pills and a fiber pill. generally i will take fifteen minutes to stretch before i head out to do a little bit of work. for lunch i eat one packet of tuna and drink an unaltered bottle of water. a half before i go work out i mix one-two scoops of jack3d and one pakect of emergen-c into a bottle. i try to work out no later than 3p.m. my work outs are 6 sometimes 7 days a week (i take break days when i have no choice due to work or i just need a day off). my routine changes every other day. the first day i do the spartacus workout which lasts about 40 minutes with the breaks included. after i complete spartacus i go to the weight room and do four sets of the following: of dips, free weight bench press, and chest presses. however, recently since all my work out buddies are gone i have been switching up my first day routine (west is here but his fat, slovenly ass just eats as many cheeseburgers as he can get his hands on while making excuses. when he does go to the gym, he 'stretches.') my second day routine is a 30-45 minute run, followed by 200 crunches, 80 specific crunches, 30 flutter kicks, 50 side flutter kicks, and 2 minutes of plank. the alternative workout for day one is a 15 minute run or a 45 minute power walk, after which i will do 10 minutes on the rowing machine, all the crunches aforementioned crunches from day two and then all of the aforementioned arm work from day one. because of this change in routine, day two becomes just a run day. hopefully wise will come back soon so i can get back into spartacus. after a workout i will take a shower and drink one scoop of gnc brand 100% lean muscle weigh protein mixed in a water bottle while i bathe. for dinner i will eat either the dinner they have at the chow hall, which is terrible for me; if i have soups from sarah i will eat opt for that instead.
sometimes i will have a late night snack (beef jerky, jelly beans, almonds, ect.)
before i go to bed i will do the same 15 minute stretch that i do in the morning, i will take a melatonin and do my brain exercise game, then drift off.
every morning i wake up and eat a special k bar and drink a bottle of water with two packets of emergen-c in it, i take two immune system booster pills and a fiber pill. generally i will take fifteen minutes to stretch before i head out to do a little bit of work. for lunch i eat one packet of tuna and drink an unaltered bottle of water. a half before i go work out i mix one-two scoops of jack3d and one pakect of emergen-c into a bottle. i try to work out no later than 3p.m. my work outs are 6 sometimes 7 days a week (i take break days when i have no choice due to work or i just need a day off). my routine changes every other day. the first day i do the spartacus workout which lasts about 40 minutes with the breaks included. after i complete spartacus i go to the weight room and do four sets of the following: of dips, free weight bench press, and chest presses. however, recently since all my work out buddies are gone i have been switching up my first day routine (west is here but his fat, slovenly ass just eats as many cheeseburgers as he can get his hands on while making excuses. when he does go to the gym, he 'stretches.') my second day routine is a 30-45 minute run, followed by 200 crunches, 80 specific crunches, 30 flutter kicks, 50 side flutter kicks, and 2 minutes of plank. the alternative workout for day one is a 15 minute run or a 45 minute power walk, after which i will do 10 minutes on the rowing machine, all the crunches aforementioned crunches from day two and then all of the aforementioned arm work from day one. because of this change in routine, day two becomes just a run day. hopefully wise will come back soon so i can get back into spartacus. after a workout i will take a shower and drink one scoop of gnc brand 100% lean muscle weigh protein mixed in a water bottle while i bathe. for dinner i will eat either the dinner they have at the chow hall, which is terrible for me; if i have soups from sarah i will eat opt for that instead.
sometimes i will have a late night snack (beef jerky, jelly beans, almonds, ect.)
before i go to bed i will do the same 15 minute stretch that i do in the morning, i will take a melatonin and do my brain exercise game, then drift off.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Day 96
something to do:
sarah and i have been buying art for my future apartment. she thinks we both have addictive personalities, perhaps she's right. i would keep buying them if framing wasn't so expensive and i had an unlimited amount of wall space. we've spent a pretty good amount of money on them already. but it doesn't really matter because they make me happy. and besides, i enjoy looking for things that will go in my place when i get home. here is what we have purchased so far (in order of purchase):
do we let it in? do we have a choice & because they will take it back, piece by piece set
18x24" 6 color screenprint, edition of 150
18x24" 6 color screenprint, edition of 150
by daniel danger
it ends now (no fin no future)
36 x 24". 5 color silkscreen. edition of 100
36 x 24". 5 color silkscreen. edition of 100
by rhys cooper
regardless of everything, i came to know you as a relic
16×24". 8 color screenprint, edition of 150, now sold out.
16×24". 8 color screenprint, edition of 150, now sold out.
by daniel danger
panda no.3
23x33". 192 gsm matte archival paper with ultrachrome K3 UV resistant inks. edition of 250
23x33". 192 gsm matte archival paper with ultrachrome K3 UV resistant inks. edition of 250
by hidden moves ™
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Day 95
They wrote in the old days that it is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country. But in modern war, there is nothing sweet nor fitting in your dying. You will die like a dog for no good reason.
-Ernest Hemingway
curry chicken is much better when people who are not in the armed services are the ones preparing it. i can't complain though, i mean how am i supposed to expect the army to be proficient at any meal besides pre-made chicken cordonblue and meatballs. their food generally makes me suspect the entire armed forces community as a group of half wits and underachievers. however, on second thought the fact that i am in the middle of nowhere, a place so off the grid that the locals cook their food using animal feces - my comrades being able to cook anything is kind of amazing. the simple fact that i'm on the internet is amazing as well. what a weird world.
this place is very strange and somewhat eerie. outside my barriers this world looks like a post-apocalyptic waste land, where lawlessness is the law of the land. mad max would have a field day here. tigers once to roamed these parts, they were called caspian tigers; they were beautiful and mystical looking. they had magnificently full faces and broad, thick bodies. they are gone now. we destroy everything with more outward beauty than ourselves. nothing beautiful strolls around these parts anymore. the only thing that moves around these parts is gaunt and void of any elegance. i find it fascinating how many stray dogs and stray men wander around the couple mile radius of the village. many of the men were born here and will never leave the six or seven blocks of the bazaar; at least the dogs have the good sense to roam freely. what a peculiar existence these men must live. most of them have absolutely no concept of time or all that it holds. if you were to ask a man how old he is, he will most likely stare at you for a second with a simpleminded grin, and then proceed to tell you he doesn't know, but he thinks around twenty-two. this would be good and well for you, if he wasn't obviously in his early-to-mid forties. their hands are so dirty and calloused with dirt, shit, and blood it's hard not dry-heave when you shake their hands.
it's nice to watch when the children are playing soccer or cricket. however, i find that it's hard to look at them in the eyes nowadays. they are so little and so unaware of the predators that are always looming overhead. i know that if they make it to the age of maturity, most of them will grow to be the same shit handed, weathered, gloomy, individuals that roam around the same six block district with their daft expressions and cowardice ethics. like their fathers, they won't stand up for themselves even if you tied their enemies to a chair and handed them the AK-47 with a full magazine. there is no pride here, only fear masked by an overabundance of hospitality and courtesy. that's fine though, they can go on prowling the devastated dirt streets with their canine companions for the rest of eternity for all i care. i'll be out of here in six to seven months, and they will be here with their shitty, dirty, calloused hands and their dopey expressions on their gloomy faces waiting waiting for allah to save them from the hands of an evil that they could defeat if they only had an ounce of courage and the smallest amount of self respect.
a caspian tiger in captivity, berlin zoo 1899
Monday, January 3, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Day 93
i think new years resolutions are kind of stupid. however, i have nothing but time on my hands to improve myself. so here is what i am going to go for in 2011:
-stop biting my nails (which i'm doing right now)
-stop smoking (completed early)
-stay in shape
-continue my music theory studies
-read at least one book a month
-be better to my girlfriend and to my friends
-spend less money on frivolous things
-draw more pictures
-buy more instruments
-write more music
-listen to more punk rock
-tell the people i love that i love them without expecting to hear it back.
-think before i speak, speak before i act
that is a handful of things i can work on, most people don't do half the shit they say they are going to do on New Years. i plan on working on each of these things and hopefully by this time next year my list will have all crosses through it.
-stop biting my nails (which i'm doing right now)
-
-stay in shape
-continue my music theory studies
-read at least one book a month
-be better to my girlfriend and to my friends
-spend less money on frivolous things
-draw more pictures
-buy more instruments
-write more music
-listen to more punk rock
-tell the people i love that i love them without expecting to hear it back.
-think before i speak, speak before i act
that is a handful of things i can work on, most people don't do half the shit they say they are going to do on New Years. i plan on working on each of these things and hopefully by this time next year my list will have all crosses through it.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Day 92
what is it that turns docile men into violent and savage demons, who can barely stand to face themselves in the mirror when they brush their teeth in the morning? is there a retraction in ones values upon being on the edge of the world, and seeing how down right terrifying human nature can truly be? but this begs further questioning: are there really horrors of war or just mere marginal catalysts that shift us to our rightful place in the world? are we not all built to destroy? which lastly brings into play the questions of Locke and Hobbs: is man inherently good or inherently evil?
i can't answer any of these questions. i am a mere mouth and nothing more, i have no real thoughts anymore except this one: i think about the sea, i imagine the ocean swallowing me into it. and as my body floats for hours that turns into days with no sounds but her waves crashing into each other while seagulls harmonize overhead; i am content. but i am not at sea and i am not content. i am anxious, confused; i feel utterly useless and smaller than the smallest blood sucking insect. i am a smudge on a window of a skyscraper, i am burning inside and my heart is alive; and yet it is on fire. all the avenues of approach have been breached and i feel like i have no one to turn to. if this is hell then i truly feel kindred with the prophets that wrote of its terrors.
i am not a mean man, but i am awfully hard on people. and i wish it wasn't this way. i wish i wasn't so hard on myself. there are times there are times there are times when my body is making my mouth say these things that are hurtful and biting, and i tell my body, " stop right now! this is crazy, you don't mean a word you're saying." and then my body proceeds to push my deeper inside and continues to say these dumb, awful things. i have so much more to learn about myself and how to control this gift of gab, my mouth just wants to say whatever it wasn't to say and it's not, my heart just wants to be upset at the world and blame blame blame.
i am alive. i am so far from home.
this is so 2010
i can't answer any of these questions. i am a mere mouth and nothing more, i have no real thoughts anymore except this one: i think about the sea, i imagine the ocean swallowing me into it. and as my body floats for hours that turns into days with no sounds but her waves crashing into each other while seagulls harmonize overhead; i am content. but i am not at sea and i am not content. i am anxious, confused; i feel utterly useless and smaller than the smallest blood sucking insect. i am a smudge on a window of a skyscraper, i am burning inside and my heart is alive; and yet it is on fire. all the avenues of approach have been breached and i feel like i have no one to turn to. if this is hell then i truly feel kindred with the prophets that wrote of its terrors.
i am not a mean man, but i am awfully hard on people. and i wish it wasn't this way. i wish i wasn't so hard on myself. there are times there are times there are times when my body is making my mouth say these things that are hurtful and biting, and i tell my body, " stop right now! this is crazy, you don't mean a word you're saying." and then my body proceeds to push my deeper inside and continues to say these dumb, awful things. i have so much more to learn about myself and how to control this gift of gab, my mouth just wants to say whatever it wasn't to say and it's not, my heart just wants to be upset at the world and blame blame blame.
i am alive. i am so far from home.
this is so 2010
Day 92
these are the eight albums that i either forgot about, came out after i had made the list, or barely missed the cut. the way i wrote my list of top twenty was extremely free of form and changed daily; i really only knew what the top five were. so certain records (noveller - desert fires, ghostface killah - apollo kids) should have been on the list but were discovered after i was almost done posting the entire list. Some albums (mi ami - steal your face) were honestly just forgot about and then remembered when it was too late.. basically all of these albums should have been on the top twenty (eight) but i am tired of writing about albums.. so here they are:
honorable mentions:
toro y moi - causers of this
A super chillwave record with all kinds of emotions and some pretty deep cuts.
---
rosetta - a determination of mortality
A year ago this was on Rosettas website:
Tonight at practice we had this collective epiphany where we threw off the shackles of the whole "post-metal" thing and decided that WE'RE DONE WITH 105 BPM. BRING ON 150 BPM! So we wrote our ENTIRE NEXT RECORD in an hour, and it's the fastest, craziest, kick-in-the-nuts thing since 1999.'
Thats about right.
---
circa survive - blue sky noise / appendage ep
a more mature, fantasic step forward for my favorite band that I don't talk about liking that often. then they had the nerve to follow it up with an equally as good ep.
---
mi ami - steal your face
there might be one song on this album that wouldn't be classified as a 'rager'.
---
la dispute/touche amore - searching for a pulse/the worth of the world
Both bands are heavy hitters. Both bands singers appear on the other groups songs. Both sets of songs are really good. La Dispute takes the cake and once again makes the case that they are post-hardcores future breadwinners. Jesus, this split is incredible.
---
blonde redhead - penny sparkle
On the top twenty it was between this and Beach House.. Beach House won.. But thats not to say this album isn't really good.
---
noveller - desert fires
this should have been on the top twenty, I just didn't hear it till a couple days ago. Fantastic drone that evokes the heart of the Mojave Desert.
---
ghostface killah - apollo kids
this should have been on the list instead of kanye.. this shit is ten times better.
honorable mentions:
toro y moi - causers of this
A super chillwave record with all kinds of emotions and some pretty deep cuts.
---
rosetta - a determination of mortality
A year ago this was on Rosettas website:
Tonight at practice we had this collective epiphany where we threw off the shackles of the whole "post-metal" thing and decided that WE'RE DONE WITH 105 BPM. BRING ON 150 BPM! So we wrote our ENTIRE NEXT RECORD in an hour, and it's the fastest, craziest, kick-in-the-nuts thing since 1999.'
Thats about right.
---
circa survive - blue sky noise / appendage ep
a more mature, fantasic step forward for my favorite band that I don't talk about liking that often. then they had the nerve to follow it up with an equally as good ep.
---
mi ami - steal your face
there might be one song on this album that wouldn't be classified as a 'rager'.
---
la dispute/touche amore - searching for a pulse/the worth of the world
Both bands are heavy hitters. Both bands singers appear on the other groups songs. Both sets of songs are really good. La Dispute takes the cake and once again makes the case that they are post-hardcores future breadwinners. Jesus, this split is incredible.
---
blonde redhead - penny sparkle
On the top twenty it was between this and Beach House.. Beach House won.. But thats not to say this album isn't really good.
---
noveller - desert fires
this should have been on the top twenty, I just didn't hear it till a couple days ago. Fantastic drone that evokes the heart of the Mojave Desert.
---
ghostface killah - apollo kids
this should have been on the list instead of kanye.. this shit is ten times better.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)