Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody.
Seventy-fourth Entry. Here I come, NBC chamber.
19 SEP 03 | 0429 - Friday

It's not long now. The NBC (Nuclear Biological Chemical) chamber is waiting for me and the rest of D Co. 1/28th INF. REGT. It's reaching out to use with spectre-like hands of burning rage. It's not lethal, but you wish it was. You wish it would just be a swift suffocation, a death that is more so a release to a new state of life rather than a retreating frenzy.

I cut myself shaving this morning. I'm going commando. I've had nasal congestion for the past 3 weeks. I'm going to shed tears and grunt and bite down hard on my bottom lip to silence my screams. The anticipation alone makes me want to piss my pants. I love it. I cherish it. I want this everyday, not just on rare occasions. Maybe that's the reason I joined the Army. And to jump out of aircrafts. And to train in harsh environments. All that good stuff.

At any rate, the next time I go tot the PX, I need to remember to but a clear soap box and a black sharpie. I thought that last soap box would be a little more durable, but I guess not. The next one will be a two piece, then I won't be bothered if the top entirely separates from the bottom.

Everyone is up now. Tire, of course, because they didn't get enough sleep. I woke up at 0345, pulled fireguard, then got squared away. I''m not tire, but that is besides the pint. Life is strange, isn't it?

Some of the guys are working on a cadence that I would gladly sing. It might require some explanation for you nonmilitary personnel out there, so here. Front-lean rest: the start/up position of a push-up. Side-straddle hop: jumping jacks. CQ: Company Headquarters, where all the phone calls and paperwork go, and where soldiers spend 2 hours of their time if they get shafted into having a shift. At any rate, the cadence is as follows:
"No more front-lean rest, that shit hurts my chest. No more side-straddle hop, that shit got's to stop. No more CQ duty, that shit can kiss my booty. I'm going home...." It's pretty good, and though you can't know the rhythm by anything other than hearing it, it's got a great beat to it. I'm sure there will be more verses added on as we progress, I certainly hope so, but if not, too bad.

Well, it's time for me to go make my bunk and head downstairs for formation. Wish me luck and lots of pain!

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Flashes of High School
Summer of Change
No Brass, No ammo
Lost in Translation

Last Five

And that's that.
Referenced #2
To write them.
Heart vs mind.