You're a wrecking ball with a heart of gold.
I don't suspect anyone will actually read this, mostly because I'm writing it, but I just need to see the words written somewhere.
I witness the depravity of human kind every single day I spend trapped here in this hollowed out pit of humanity, surrounded by dirt and shrapnel and Frank of all things. And even though I spend my time playing Doctor whenever a chopper flies in or an ambulance pulls up, I can't help but feel like a butcher. Constantly chopping out the fattiest cuts of meat to be discarded... I'm just hacking out pieces of metal that wind up in a kid's bowel because some genius decided landmines were an acceptable invention.
It makes me sick just to think about it sometimes, that I'm losing my skills as a surgeon because I've been forced into meatball surgery for so long. And then it makes me feel guilty on top of being sick because I shouldn't feel so damned bad about my skills when I have soldiers - someone's son - to worry about. And my liver wonders what its done to deserve the moonshine regiment slash punishment that's been especially heavy lately.
War isn't something I'll ever recommend to anyone. Being drafted is just about as bad as a death sentence and anyone who tells you otherwise is a damned fool or off their proverbial rocker. It's made me more of a cynic than any one man should be, and it's definitely given me a distinct hatred for my own government and its foolhardy gung-ho, act now react never sort of ideal concerning business we have no business being in. Korea's problems are unfortunately Korea's problems - not Uncle Sam's.
Maybe I've already had one too many tonight and just didn't notice, but I'm in one hell of a mood and this rant has only made it worse by reminding me how futile one voice really is. Now if only I could convince the entirety of the US Army to pose a coup de'tat, then I'd change my mind. But until then, I'm going to go wallow in my Swamp and see if I can't catch a break and pass out early.
I witness the depravity of human kind every single day I spend trapped here in this hollowed out pit of humanity, surrounded by dirt and shrapnel and Frank of all things. And even though I spend my time playing Doctor whenever a chopper flies in or an ambulance pulls up, I can't help but feel like a butcher. Constantly chopping out the fattiest cuts of meat to be discarded... I'm just hacking out pieces of metal that wind up in a kid's bowel because some genius decided landmines were an acceptable invention.
It makes me sick just to think about it sometimes, that I'm losing my skills as a surgeon because I've been forced into meatball surgery for so long. And then it makes me feel guilty on top of being sick because I shouldn't feel so damned bad about my skills when I have soldiers - someone's son - to worry about. And my liver wonders what its done to deserve the moonshine regiment slash punishment that's been especially heavy lately.
War isn't something I'll ever recommend to anyone. Being drafted is just about as bad as a death sentence and anyone who tells you otherwise is a damned fool or off their proverbial rocker. It's made me more of a cynic than any one man should be, and it's definitely given me a distinct hatred for my own government and its foolhardy gung-ho, act now react never sort of ideal concerning business we have no business being in. Korea's problems are unfortunately Korea's problems - not Uncle Sam's.
Maybe I've already had one too many tonight and just didn't notice, but I'm in one hell of a mood and this rant has only made it worse by reminding me how futile one voice really is. Now if only I could convince the entirety of the US Army to pose a coup de'tat, then I'd change my mind. But until then, I'm going to go wallow in my Swamp and see if I can't catch a break and pass out early.