but somewhat golden like the afternoons we used to spend before you got too cool

Have not had much to blog about lately, but I hate waiting a long time between posts and then have to type one of those horrid update lists.

Anyway.

I am now exactly (as of yesterday) 6 months into my tour with First Army. I'm now in the narrow window in which a decision needs to be made: do I stay here and continue this thankless mission, or do I move on? I've always believed a door will open when I need it, and I have faith that if I decide to move on from this mission, there will be something else for me. But what? Whenever is the devil you don't know better than the devil you know? Remember when I was looking forward to THIS job??

I'll keep you informed, faithful readers, but I've all but made up my mind already...

You ready for a mindfuck? - I've been home from Iraq 8 months yesterday. EIGHT MONTHS. Iraq used to hang on my lips, wrap around my shoulders, hold my hand - for a time (wasn't it always?), Iraq defined me. I was significant because of Iraq. Do you see that? I was superior because I was there, and all my sarcasm, my mood swings, my snootiness, my dark humor, everything was justified because I was in fucking Baghdad. Now I'm nothing, a regular worthless human. Now it feels a little like a dream. 

...Tell me, why does that depress me?

...

Also - if you hate me for whatever reason I don't understand, if you don't want to talk to me anymore, if you're so caught up in fixing your life that you couldn't possibly have me be a part of it (lest I mess it up like before, right?), please just let me know. Trust me, that will be a million times easier than to hear, "my phone is fucked up" or "our internet got shut off" or whatever. There are no other phones in the greater United States? I think my head just might explode.

"but when I say let's keep in touch

I really mean I wish that you'd grow up"

- Brand New "Mix Tape" -