My uncle and I don't talk much anymore...

[vengeful_circe]

Today was so lovely I just couldn't bear to stay cooped up inside. Instead of my usual routine of hunkering down in the library with a few books, I decided to study in the campus' courtyard. However, studying soon turned into people watching and sketching. (What "artist" would be able to resist her urges with such an eclectic student population at her disposal?) I hadn't been doodling very long when two approaching Army recruiters caught my eye. Realizing that this was a great opportunity to get a few studies of soldiers in my portfolio, I set to work doing some basic sketches. When I looked up at my subjects a second time, I noticed that they were now standing toe to toe with me. I smiled meekly at these towering juggernauts. The older sergeant handed me a business card, stating that his "uncle" had instructed him to give that to me. Of course, his "uncle" was the one and only "Uncle Sam," the famous icon that has been the personification of our grand government since the early 19th century. He then inquired about my age, where I went to high school, why I was going to school in Maryland, my major, what I was planning to do in the future, and if I had ever considered joining the armed forces. Of course, since I always try to avoid bad confrontation with any stranger (especially individuals twice my size), I relayed the information that I knew he wanted to hear. When he smiled broadly, I realized that this good, little monkey had answered all his questions correctly and a wave of relief swept over my quivering frame. After telling me to call the number on the card if I had any questions, the two soldiers bid me farewell and went on their merry way. I was left with my thoughts...how they tortured me so! I was disturbed with the fact that they approached me, a shrimp barely 5'6 tall (a lover of art, music, and beauty and practically a vegetarian), to deliver their little spiel to. My God, I thought, Is the Army really that desperate for soldiers? I have just finished reconstructing my fragmented, frail psyche after years of wandering through purgatory and now Uncle Sam wants to hand me a rifle? As I walked to my car, I began to feel incredibly ashamed of myself for the most absurd reasons. My mind wouldn't allow me to forget my failures.

You're a fuck up and a coward...you'll never amount to anything. At least those kids who are fighting overseas are doing something to benefit themselves, even if they don't agree with the reasons why they are there. You're a damn waste of space. Look at yourself, you disgusting parasite. Jesus, you are a vile wretch. You're nothing. Ugh, turn away...I can't stand the sight of you any more. Your very presence is making me ill.

I am the parasite.