One of the things that I`ve found out about life is that sometimes you meet alot of good people in places you would have never expected, but because of the shifting of life you become separated from most of them and never em again. Its a sobering feeling when your sitting next to someone having a great time and it hits you that in 3 years you`ll probaly barely remember this moment and the person you are sharing it with, caught up in the moment of the "now" then.
Yesterday two of my buddies got shot ina training accident. They are both okay and I`m not significantly shaken. I`ve seen alot of shit in my time, and it didn`t even register when it happened. Its not the fact that a few inches lower or higher and a couple of my buddies would be dead that scares me, it`s my reaction to it all:
I came home, ordered a pizza and went to sleep.
There was a time in my life when I was overly sensitive. Any complaint, criticism or trial of life would send me reeling. Through the many fights, real and metaphorical, this sensitivity calloused, leaving nothing but cynicism and apathy for others as well as my life.
There was a time even more recently when I saw this callousness as an plus, an edge to fight the never ending war of life. However, The farther I drift away from my sensitivity, the more I realize that I can never come back.
Its been almost three years but I am still back on the streets of Chicago. I can notgo into a store without scouting out all the possible exits and mapping out the layout of the cameras. I can never shake the feeling that somebody is always watching me, waiting, for that opprutunity to strike. In short I can never relax, and simply enjoy life. With the realization of this "reality" I then often wonder; why do I go on, what do I have to gain, where will I go and more importantly what the fuck will I do?
The path I am on will most certainly not lead me to any peace. I`m still slated to deploy within 60 days and there will undoubtedly be alot of struggle when (and if) I return to follow a college career that I simply can not afford. There is only (as there has always been) a small glimmer of hope, which may or may not be real that one day I will be able to lay down, relax and be liberated from the burdens I`ve carried my entire life.
The question I have asked myself much as of late is whether or not I will be able to relax even if the opprotunity presents itself. I honestly don`t think I will.
So, why do I go on?
I honestly don`t know.
Sometimes its simply because I have no choice and I`d rather not give the many naysayers the satisfaction of knowing they were right. Unfortunately, it appears that less and less it is because I truly have heartfelt hope. The reason that pops into my mind is staggeringly simple: I do it out of loyalty to my very few friends and family, to the ones still around and ones who are unfortunately not.
Which brings me the crux of the problem: What motivation will I have when my family and friends are gone? I`ve never lived a normal life. Everyday is greeted with the trepidation that someone close to me will be gone. I still remember how far my friend Ricky fell when his mother died, and I still remember those days that Ray-ray, Tavonne, Doug and my grandfather died (only one from natural causes mind you). I still remember when I got that phone call saying my best friend was facing the rest of his life in prison or something so stupid.
The only recourse I have ever found to deal with this is to steel myself from the emotions that accompany it, but the more I do the more I realize that by doing so, I steal from myself the very thing that keeps me going. The small part of me that is still idealistic wants to think that things will inevitably work out, but reality tells quite a different story. Its only a matter of time before I come crashing down, unable to go on or I slip into an unfeeling meaningless world of booze, drugs and women like every other male member of my family. I can only hope that I can somehow strive through till the end, for I have no place else to turn. I`ll never have a wife or child and its doubtful that I`ll meet anyone as meaningful to me as my old friends.
In essence, I`m trapped waiting for it end, but my pride will not allow me to end it myself or let anyone else do it without a fight. So what am I to do? Its a rhetorical question, because I`m as sure that I don` t know that no one else could possibly tell me the answer. So why even bother to type this out and then put it where others can read? I dunno; Maybe it will allow me to see where I have been and help me find where I should go, or maybe I`ll just feel a little better knowing I got some of it off my chest. We`ll see I guess. As for now I guess I`ve rambled on enough and should get back to work
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