Endless Sands of Time
We went to the gym this morning completely exhausted, but left with the wonderful euphoria given from the endorphins released from our brains in the midst of pain. I made a note to go back later this evening when it gets darker, and to continue this pattern for the remainder of my time here. I'll have more time to work out once we get into our regular battle rhythm in Dadotti, so I think this would be the time of all times to get completely shredded and take my mind off of everything else. What else is there to do around here?
I talked to Jess this morning for nearly an hour over the phone. She was the first conversation that I'd had with anyone in a while that's lasted well over seven minutes. We caught up and assured each other that every thing will be all right at the end of our battles. Though she won't admit it, I'm almost positive that her family is skeptical of me and my affection towards her; which is understandable in its own way.
Talking to her put me in the mood to get some writing done so I skipped out on tonight's acapella by the tricon and sat on the rocks with my notebooks. There's an abundance of writers and historians here on bases and a few of them have even asked what I've been up to lately concerning the craft. Tony wants to do some kind of collaboration, but I'm not particularly in the mood to work with anyone other than my muse.
Earlier in the evening we heard that there was a fire fight just over the ridge a few miles away. It's obvious that there too close for comfort but there's nothing more we can do other than keep our eyes open. I heard the shots from inside one of the tents that 2nd Platoon moved into the previous night. I was getting info from Catten concerning his tattoo needles and set of ink. I told him that I wanted to see his other work before I settle down for a life long mark, especially if I'm going to have to pay for it. But, if all goes well, I'll have that ka-bar on my left leg sometime in the next couple weeks.
Waiting Game
To my right lays a vast panoramic
of mountain ranges that reminds us where we are
just in case we happened to have forgotton.
On the left lay the lonely trails
of an endless flast desert, with malevolence
hiding somewhere along the horizon.
The water flowing down my throat
keeps my body alive long enough to wait
for the next day; the next 24 hours of anxiety.
At last we know where the bastards are,
but now we must run the race to see who will show
their ugly face first. Cast your antes with brass.
The moment of truth is almost here.
I talked to Jess this morning for nearly an hour over the phone. She was the first conversation that I'd had with anyone in a while that's lasted well over seven minutes. We caught up and assured each other that every thing will be all right at the end of our battles. Though she won't admit it, I'm almost positive that her family is skeptical of me and my affection towards her; which is understandable in its own way.
Talking to her put me in the mood to get some writing done so I skipped out on tonight's acapella by the tricon and sat on the rocks with my notebooks. There's an abundance of writers and historians here on bases and a few of them have even asked what I've been up to lately concerning the craft. Tony wants to do some kind of collaboration, but I'm not particularly in the mood to work with anyone other than my muse.
Earlier in the evening we heard that there was a fire fight just over the ridge a few miles away. It's obvious that there too close for comfort but there's nothing more we can do other than keep our eyes open. I heard the shots from inside one of the tents that 2nd Platoon moved into the previous night. I was getting info from Catten concerning his tattoo needles and set of ink. I told him that I wanted to see his other work before I settle down for a life long mark, especially if I'm going to have to pay for it. But, if all goes well, I'll have that ka-bar on my left leg sometime in the next couple weeks.
Waiting Game
To my right lays a vast panoramic
of mountain ranges that reminds us where we are
just in case we happened to have forgotton.
On the left lay the lonely trails
of an endless flast desert, with malevolence
hiding somewhere along the horizon.
The water flowing down my throat
keeps my body alive long enough to wait
for the next day; the next 24 hours of anxiety.
At last we know where the bastards are,
but now we must run the race to see who will show
their ugly face first. Cast your antes with brass.
The moment of truth is almost here.