Thank you Mr. Bush
i looked out my window a little bit ago choking back tears. it's storming. my dog is scared of storms or shall i say, was. i wanted to bring her in so terribly, badly. i walked to the door and opened it and called for her, i got no response. i then realized that she wouldnt come back. but those werent the tears i choked back.
I got an email a few hours ago. updates from back in the big O. no not orgasm, get your heads out of the gutter. Omaha. the crazy city i will prolly till i am old and feeble call home. a friend of mine was killed last week in Iraq. Not a close friend. not the kind you tell everything to when your 14 and feel like you can talk to no one else. nor the kind you can ask to get you a bottle of vodka or a vicodin, vic and vod, vod and vic. But hey, that's water under the bridge. No, the kind of kid you ate worms with. the kind of kid you hid with under the big tires on the playground and see how many rocks they can fit in their mouth. the kind of kid that chases you all around the playground until you fall into a creek and then they try to help you but let your hand go only to laugh in your face with all the other kids. but moment later, after the amusement passes, gives you a kiss on the cheek and says they are sorry. Pure innocence. Childhood. Kyle.
when i left, kyle and i were still good friends. not as close as we were when i wore little girl berrets and he wore ninja turle shoes (that i stole from him after the creek inncident), but that was because he didnt agree with my personal endeavors of living in a group house with less than unstable rolemodels. But we still talked. We still ate random things we found. We still smoked together and hung out on my roof with the pellet gun shooting the neighborhood bully. He was a god and i was a goddess and we reaked vengence on the neighborhood bully who happened to sit next to me in Pre-Algebra. The kid never knew it was us. He didnt even know kyle and probably doesnt now nor will he ever.
WHen you hear that someone you know has died, it hurts. it truely does. YOu dont know weather to be angry or depressed. To cry or declare your own form of vengence. As my father told me moments ago, people are going to die. But its different when you know them and you wonder, did they feel pain, did they die quick, what their mother felt, that gut wrenching, scream to the sky pain that sears through every womans belly when she discovers the fruit of her womb has been murdered. thats right, murdered.
I also found out in this email, that David, my first actual boyfriend was deployed three days ago. i knew he was going in but no one told me anything about anything till now. i talk to people from there on a daily basis yet they neglected to tell me much of anything about the people that were involved in my childhood. My childhood is reaching its last moments of life as the children i knew come back as corpses to the room mothers i had in first, second, third grade.
While i wish luck to david and i hope for a safe return, i feel no reassurance in it. David, like my brothers friend, James, rest his soul and bless his reincarnation, always wanted to kill someone. NOw saying that, and with prior knowledge that he was my childhood sweetie, makes him sound violent. he wasnt. quite the contrary, david was like me, a child of nature, and was engrossed in the idea of metamorphosis, particularly with catipillars and butterflies. but, like his disire to kill somone, comes the desire for him to be killed and thus beginning the same cycle of pain. but david has no mother. nor a father. his sister is long since gone. who will feel the gut wrenching maternal pain when news of his death comes home? who will be there to put his body back into the earth? will anyone notice his departure? has anyone noticed it now? or like the many others that are being sent away, is he just a number?
My cousin's husband, for sake of situation we'll call him Joseph, came back from Iraq a few weeks ago and is being sent back. before he left, his wife gave birth to a beautiful child, we'll call him Ian. When joseph left, Ian was a wee thing, bieng only a few months old. When he came back, Ian was 17 months old. When talking to joseph (our conversation became rather deep), the thing that brought the most tears to his eyes was the loss of time with his son and the idea that he is leaving again in October. Joseph told me of his neighbor at the base whom he was also in boot camp with. His neighbor talked with him about getting married. he claimed that the moment he got back he was going to propose to his girlfriend. HIs neighbor did not come back. He will not be able to propose, nor will he be able to see the life that is growing inside of his girlfriends body that he helped create.
Joseph changed the topic, or more his son did when he grabbed a newspaper and started chewing on a picture of bush, that he had the opportunity to see the president when he visited the base. however, he did not take the opportunity to go see the president nor did anyone in their neighborhood for that matter. they all went to a good friends vigil and held the hand of his forever waiting girlfriend and their future child. Joseph nor his wife said they ever wanted to see the man. One of Joseph's major point concered the idea that the media portrays troops as supporting the president. he then asked me to go ask the neighborhood what they thought of him. i did not do this request for i already knew his point. Not one of them could give a care about seeing the president
my father tells me i know nothing, and this may be true. i may not know a thing about war. I am not my fathers son, nor am i his daughter, i am my mothers child and like my mother, i feel. i hide it but i feel things strongly. i take in what i see and what i sense . i may not understand everything that goes on or i may only understand what i wish to. but i do understand the loss. while no, no one in my close family has died, people i know have. while no, i do not know the gut wrenching pain a mother goes through when she discovers her child has been killed i do understand the pain felt when one discovers they have lost a child. and both are indescribable.
there are those that say this all is necessary, fine. it may be. i may never understand it but everyone has a right to their opinions. and tonight everyone, while i contine to wind down after having another political shouting match with my father, i hope you recognize the sacrifices people around you are making, the pain they are feeling, the confusion they are encumbered with. because just because you dont understand something, doesnt mean you cannot acknowledge it. Good night world. Good night Mr. Bush, hope you're having fun in texas.
I got an email a few hours ago. updates from back in the big O. no not orgasm, get your heads out of the gutter. Omaha. the crazy city i will prolly till i am old and feeble call home. a friend of mine was killed last week in Iraq. Not a close friend. not the kind you tell everything to when your 14 and feel like you can talk to no one else. nor the kind you can ask to get you a bottle of vodka or a vicodin, vic and vod, vod and vic. But hey, that's water under the bridge. No, the kind of kid you ate worms with. the kind of kid you hid with under the big tires on the playground and see how many rocks they can fit in their mouth. the kind of kid that chases you all around the playground until you fall into a creek and then they try to help you but let your hand go only to laugh in your face with all the other kids. but moment later, after the amusement passes, gives you a kiss on the cheek and says they are sorry. Pure innocence. Childhood. Kyle.
when i left, kyle and i were still good friends. not as close as we were when i wore little girl berrets and he wore ninja turle shoes (that i stole from him after the creek inncident), but that was because he didnt agree with my personal endeavors of living in a group house with less than unstable rolemodels. But we still talked. We still ate random things we found. We still smoked together and hung out on my roof with the pellet gun shooting the neighborhood bully. He was a god and i was a goddess and we reaked vengence on the neighborhood bully who happened to sit next to me in Pre-Algebra. The kid never knew it was us. He didnt even know kyle and probably doesnt now nor will he ever.
WHen you hear that someone you know has died, it hurts. it truely does. YOu dont know weather to be angry or depressed. To cry or declare your own form of vengence. As my father told me moments ago, people are going to die. But its different when you know them and you wonder, did they feel pain, did they die quick, what their mother felt, that gut wrenching, scream to the sky pain that sears through every womans belly when she discovers the fruit of her womb has been murdered. thats right, murdered.
I also found out in this email, that David, my first actual boyfriend was deployed three days ago. i knew he was going in but no one told me anything about anything till now. i talk to people from there on a daily basis yet they neglected to tell me much of anything about the people that were involved in my childhood. My childhood is reaching its last moments of life as the children i knew come back as corpses to the room mothers i had in first, second, third grade.
While i wish luck to david and i hope for a safe return, i feel no reassurance in it. David, like my brothers friend, James, rest his soul and bless his reincarnation, always wanted to kill someone. NOw saying that, and with prior knowledge that he was my childhood sweetie, makes him sound violent. he wasnt. quite the contrary, david was like me, a child of nature, and was engrossed in the idea of metamorphosis, particularly with catipillars and butterflies. but, like his disire to kill somone, comes the desire for him to be killed and thus beginning the same cycle of pain. but david has no mother. nor a father. his sister is long since gone. who will feel the gut wrenching maternal pain when news of his death comes home? who will be there to put his body back into the earth? will anyone notice his departure? has anyone noticed it now? or like the many others that are being sent away, is he just a number?
My cousin's husband, for sake of situation we'll call him Joseph, came back from Iraq a few weeks ago and is being sent back. before he left, his wife gave birth to a beautiful child, we'll call him Ian. When joseph left, Ian was a wee thing, bieng only a few months old. When he came back, Ian was 17 months old. When talking to joseph (our conversation became rather deep), the thing that brought the most tears to his eyes was the loss of time with his son and the idea that he is leaving again in October. Joseph told me of his neighbor at the base whom he was also in boot camp with. His neighbor talked with him about getting married. he claimed that the moment he got back he was going to propose to his girlfriend. HIs neighbor did not come back. He will not be able to propose, nor will he be able to see the life that is growing inside of his girlfriends body that he helped create.
Joseph changed the topic, or more his son did when he grabbed a newspaper and started chewing on a picture of bush, that he had the opportunity to see the president when he visited the base. however, he did not take the opportunity to go see the president nor did anyone in their neighborhood for that matter. they all went to a good friends vigil and held the hand of his forever waiting girlfriend and their future child. Joseph nor his wife said they ever wanted to see the man. One of Joseph's major point concered the idea that the media portrays troops as supporting the president. he then asked me to go ask the neighborhood what they thought of him. i did not do this request for i already knew his point. Not one of them could give a care about seeing the president
my father tells me i know nothing, and this may be true. i may not know a thing about war. I am not my fathers son, nor am i his daughter, i am my mothers child and like my mother, i feel. i hide it but i feel things strongly. i take in what i see and what i sense . i may not understand everything that goes on or i may only understand what i wish to. but i do understand the loss. while no, no one in my close family has died, people i know have. while no, i do not know the gut wrenching pain a mother goes through when she discovers her child has been killed i do understand the pain felt when one discovers they have lost a child. and both are indescribable.
there are those that say this all is necessary, fine. it may be. i may never understand it but everyone has a right to their opinions. and tonight everyone, while i contine to wind down after having another political shouting match with my father, i hope you recognize the sacrifices people around you are making, the pain they are feeling, the confusion they are encumbered with. because just because you dont understand something, doesnt mean you cannot acknowledge it. Good night world. Good night Mr. Bush, hope you're having fun in texas.