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My Old Blog, A History Of Crazy

My old blog, a history of crazy

makes life
a little sweeter.  My focus has always
been that shit will figuer itself out. 
And right now, I'm just waiting for a few knots to untangle themselves.

While that girls worries about school and a
future are over, I never had any in the first place.  I think that means I won.

It's all about the journey.  Keep as many paths open as possible.

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Subject : Fight

Posted Date: : Oct 23, 2006 1:12 AM

I have a lot of people in my life whose
opinion I trust.  OK, maybe not a lot,
but a select few.  Probably a total of
5.  Granted, I tend to ask for advice a
lot.  I suppose I have a hard time making
decisions for myself.  Well, that's not
entirely true.  I think it is a need for
validation and approval.  I am, after
all, a Leo.  Fucking august. 

I have been toying quite heavily with the
decision of re-enlistment.  If you see me
even semi-regularly, you probably already know this.  Shit, I have been talking about it almost
since I got out.  The key problem is I
can't find a job that I both like and pays the bills.  Fucking credit cards.  The marine corps is a great gig.  How many of you have heard me say that
before?  I see a lot of hands.  Free medical, dental, housing, food,
allowances for uniforms, extra pay for traveling around the world, being in
combat zones and crossing certain imaginary lines in the middle of the
ocean.  The only thing they ask of you is
to spend months on end thousands of miles away, shooting at an enemy you can't
see to protect people that either don't like you or are too terrified to admit
to it.  Or, you can do what I did for
most of my first four years and see the world (Europe, Africa, Asia, a little
middle east), get fat sitting in an office and put up with wannabe politicians
bullshit.  Wake up every day at 5am and
go for a run before you get your living area inspected for cleanliness by the
most anal mother fuckers on the planet. 
Did you know that if you have dust anywhere in your room, or in more
then 3 places, you FAIL an inspection? 
I'm really not bitching about that because it is to be expected.  The marine corps sets a higher standard, it
just happens to be inconvenient most of the time. 

I have partied with so many great
people.  I have gotten drunk in 10
countries.  I have had experiences that I
will never forget for the rest of my life. 
I have done more before I turned 23 then a lot of people ever will.  Does that make me better then these
people?  Yes.  I took the time out of my life and served my
country with honor for 4 years.  I got
the scars to prove it. 

So why go back if I already got the
t-shirt?  Well, it used to be that I had
unfinished business.  That was the main
reason.  I always wanted to drive a tank
and blow shit up.  I still want to.  I mean, shit, TANKS!  How cool is that?  Now I'm starting to suspect its because I
can't hold down a real job for more then a few months at a time.  I'm not a drunk, a junkie or really all that
lazy.  I mean, I'm fucking lazy, but
that's not all there is to it.  I hate
working shit jobs.  They aren't exciting,
fun, or interesting.  I always find
myself working with a bunch of faggot slobs that are fat and rape antelope and
other stupid faggot shit.  I'm not
interested in meeting these people or being friends with them.  I don't even really try.  I have plenty of friends.

These frat boys I hang out with, the Delta
Sigs.  Fucking awesome people.  I really don't want to just up and leave
them.  Seriously, those house parties
fucking rule.  I'd do anything for those
mother fuckers because they are amazing, genuinely good people.  My family still sort of needs me.  Simply stated, things aren't the way they
used to and I play a pretty big roll in the peace keeping efforts.  The people I have meet this year and have my
phone number.  My Kennel worth drinking
buddies.  There are a lot of reasons to
stick around a while longer. 

It will come down to a few things in the
end.  I need to get the job I want
(tanks, LAVs or TOWs), and I want to be stationed in Cali.  If I'm going to give the Marines another 4
years of my life, then god damn it, they better give me what I want.  Another. 
Four.  YEARS.  Fuck. 
Everyone that tells me to go for it and its only four years are either
in the marines or joining.  The only
problem is they haven't done any real active duty service time in the
fleet.  My old marine buddies think I'm
crazy.  They understand what its
like.  They have been there, with me,
sweating like a fucking pig or freezing their asses off doing some
bullshit.  Like fucking guard shifts for
8 hours at a time walking around aimlessly with unloaded guns in Albania. 

I'm out, I served, I did my time, but if I
can't get a good job around here that pays the bills and then some, I pretty
much won't have a choice.  I would be
proud to serve again, and if asked to, if they needed me, I would go back in a
heartbeat.  The idea of giving up on
civilian life, on Cleveland, is the hardest part. 

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