Get a real job!
leave them alone
You guys are scumbags.
I don’t know how many times
I hear it in a day
before I start to believe
it’s my name.
But I get it
this is nation of winners
we love our false heroes.
We put our idols high in the sky
until they fall
then we all become Chicken Little.
We discard those
who don’t meet our expectations
then turn our backs on them
like they were bastard children.
History gets written
by the victors
as the losers
fade away in the narrative.
The forgotten ones
still on the battlefield
to remember their failures.
Why is there even
a second place?
because we all want to be loved.
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I take a look over the starboard side as we pull into port seeing these ghost-like fish in the water.
“Hey bro, what are those?”
“They look cute.”
“Sure, if you like kissing a thousand tasers?”
“They can kill you in seconds.”
“There’s not many out here right?”
“Oh no, they’re everywhere over here but there are more sharks but it’s cool they’re the least of your concerns.”
Wondering what else could be least of my concerns with deadly ghost-like fishes swimming all around me, I step onto the quarterdeck with the heat hitting me all at once, which I finally knew what he was talking about. Fuck it was hot. No wonder Jesus died over her.
“Hey bro, is it usually this fucking hot?”
“Nah, it’s pretty cool today.”
“I guess they were right in bootcamp that was like Hell over here.”
“What? That was bullshit, it barely goes over 130 degrees over here on a good day. Have a nice day and enjoy the pizza.”
I salute him getting off the boat, trying to figure out what the fuck he was talking about but the closer I got to the ground the hotter it got. It was way hotter on land as could feel the heat bouncing back off the concrete. I was already pouring sweat and I haven’t got into any combat yet. Of course, my natural response to suffering is to get blacked out drunk. I ask a raghead where I could get a drink and he points me out to the Beer Hut as he stares at me like he wanted to kill me. Which I could feel the hate while was walking around on base with the natives checking me out wondering how to kill me without alarming any bells.
I enter this pathetic excuse of fun and recreation going to straight for the alcohol. I double fists two tall boys and down the medicine in my head right away. It tasted like a mixture of dog piss and sweat. So, I decided maybe should grab some pizza to go this epic beverage. It looked like a normal pizza but there was something different but not in a good way about this meal. As I was eating it both my mouth and brain was simultaneous telling me that something was not right. As I try to swallow and figure out this enigma someone quietly tells me, “its goat meat.”
“What?” With my mouth full which apparently was full of goat meat.
“It’s goat meat, that’s why it tastes kinda weird but you’ll get used it. Hopefully, you get that bacteria like this guy did last week and died.”
Then it hit me. Everything about this place is meant to kill you.
the people all want to kill you including the goats.
Life lesson number three: What doesn’t kill you, makes you stranger.
I throw up the goat meat as he introduces himself, “My name is Skuba I’m from Long Beach. How many times have you’ve masterbated today. I think I jerked it five times today, wait, I just came right now. Anyways sometimes I use my left hand if want something new and mysterious, you know what I’m talking about?” Skuba tells me this with no expressions on his face. He seemed like a normal white dude that kinda looked a skinhead with a shaved head but there was nothing normal about this dude. He had all the qualities of a human being but he definitely was missing a chromosome or two. I tell him it was great meeting him excusing myself, thinking what the fuck was that about. Walking back to my barracks, which it was around dusk and it was still hot as fuck. No wonder everyone was such in a bad mood around here as I could hear mortars and gunshots close by with men’s voices shouting in the distance. Fuck I realized, I’m actually in Hell. I decided to call back home to check in with the folks before I hit the rack.
“How is it out there?”
“Super. Everything is great!”
All fathers can tell when their own flesh and blood is lying to them.
“Just take care of yourself and look out for you.”
“I hear you dad.”
“Your mother and I are very proud of you.”
This was more puzzling to hear this than the goat pizza because I was such a hellrazer growing up, causing such pain for my parents. I guess my parents were starting to respect me for being out here as human body bag.
“Just come home to us. Do what you gotta do.”
(Life lesson number four)
“Will do.” Click.
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