Now till 2012 doesn’t exist (army angst)

When I was 18, I felt 16. When I was 20, I felt 18. Now that I’m turning 21 this year?

Well feelings aside, I sure could pass off as 18. Minus my post-army tan and haircut, I really could! The downside to having a young face is people mistaking your age for a younger man, but that’s not really an issue there. Hell it means that when I’m older I’d be a pretty young looking chap. Thanks for the genes dad!

Looks aside, 21. Wow. It’s one of those milestones you just got to stop and look back at your life. What the hell have I done with those years? Spent well? Spent emoing? Spent wasting my life away?

So many things to reflect on and be thankful for, I guess. It’s said that in life you get what you need, not what you want, so either I really need a lot of things, or I need to thank the Big Guy up there a lot. Life’s been good to me, really.

Gah, sorry for the lack of quality posts. Army does a good number on your noggin and reflecting on your day doesn’t come up top priority when your day consists of following orders and standing in the sun. Hopefully my posting will allow me to use more of the brain.

Or at least buff up more. Man am I skinny now.

Oh sweet thing, if only you knew…

Flurry of thoughts.

I’m listening to music while my firefox has various tabs open, all containing different interests.

So messy, so ADHD, so 3 months before, so me.

I really miss this feeling. The feeling that the world is spread wide before me, and that while maybe I’m too damned distracted to focus on a single thing, if I do so; I can and will do that.

But this moment is going to be fleeting anyway. Come Sunday night I’m going to pack my field pack off to camp I’m gone again. Where adaptability comes in. Where survival comes in.

It all sounds rather dramatic. Like BMT is one season of Survivor.

But it is. You’re placed in an unfamiliar situation, needing to work with others. Some genuinely helpful, some harbouring ulterior motives.

But forget the rest. You don’t feel or know it, but you subtly change. You change slowly but surely, driven by the desire to win the game.

Then when you watch yourself on TV you realise how different you are from what you thought of yourself.

Man. It all sounds so damn dramatic. But it is. That’s what I feel anyway. Like life’s just one huge drawn out drama for me and I just can’t get a break. I just want… stability. Stability in the sense that there are no surprises for me, no mood swings, no emotional thinking, no changing of the status quo.

But the straws keep flying, don’t they.

Drop.

Grabbing at straws that fly away. Grabbing but failing. Knowing that those small, refined strands are things you hold dear to, and were once things that kept you going, kept your day bright.

Know how I feel? Don’t think so.

I don’t even know what I feel about it. Sometimes this feeling comes, and I manage to bottle it. Times like these… it comes and swallows me. I wish I could just never ever have this feeling, but the way I am now, army and all? Not possible.

Knowing that each day more and more straws fly away, and I can’t do anything to grab them back. Knowing that in a month, it’ll probably get worse and by the end of 2 years… who knows what I’m left with.

It just sucks sucks sucks. Just a drop of insignificance in the sea of everyday life. That’s what it is now.

Partly my fault, partly God’s fault, partly every damn straws fault. Whatever.

I’m just a damned drop.

Fix you.

How can you ever be sure of what you’re feeling?

How can you know that what you’re feeling, is true for now and for time to come? Could you not be influenced by the vibe of the moment, the circumstances facing your immediate well-being?

I guess it just shows I’m not ready then. If I can’t definitively assure myself of my decisions, nor maintain a stand for more than a day, then don’t take my word for it.

I need to fix myself. Wait for me, if you can.

Next to me, a space to be filled.

Why don’t I just move on?

Easier said than done, really. Not when for the past 2 years my mind has been nothing but… a whirlwind about her.

I bring the car to a stop, no easy feat given the darkness doesn’t really help a probationary driver. Just last night I got a dent in Dad’s car. I don’t think he spotted it yet. God help me if he does.

I crunch through the gravel underfoot. It supplements a nice earthly soundtrack to the chaos in my mind now.

*Crunch* Why not me *Crunch* Don’t do this to me *Crunch* Maybe I didn’t say enough *Crunch*

What a way to end the night. Reaching home at 1am, feeling shitty like hell. Even the honeydew-scented shampoo coupled with a hot bath ain’t going to temper my mood.

—–

Well it does, somewhat.

*Thump*

Thank God for buying a springy bed. At least something in life is going to catch me when I fall.

Although that something isn’t a she… nor does it have brown hair… or hair that has a whiff of rose…

No. Don’t think.

Then think about what? How perfectly balanced your books are? How comfortable life is now? How you don’t have to impress your boss anymore?

Oh? Oh of course. Those are fine… Well then, let’s think further then. Are you happy? You telling me that you have a bounce in your step every morning? That you can walk past that place without flinching when you see her?

Don’t think? Goddamn it Roy, wake up. You do nothing but think. And that’s why you lost.

Sigh. Whatever good the bath did, it’s gone now. I’m just going to sleep.