The wrong job
As i sit here in my cushy office freezing from the AC being bored and surfing the net, i'm thinking about my friends. The guys that i depended on and the ones that depended on me. They're out there sweating their asses off getting tossed around in shitty seas jumping onto sinking boats. They're in the gulf, they're in the bearing sea, and here i am.. sipping coffee and writing a dumb journal. The one phrase that meant the world to me that i want to hear again "we have to go out, but we don't have to come back" What the fuck am i doing here?