Life of a Swashbuckler
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
CeruleanDaBlue's LiveJournal:
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| Sunday, December 6th, 2009 | | 8:14 pm |
I don't want people as I want them to be, I just want people who want me to be me. | | Wednesday, November 4th, 2009 | | 9:41 pm |
I want to write people, to post here, but I've got nothing left today. Trying to get things written too. Trying. ......nothing >. | | Friday, October 30th, 2009 | | 7:51 am |
Have at ye!
"If you could only see the way she loved me, maybe you'd understand" "Why I feel this way about our love and what I must do" I'd like to think we've all been there once. Had I heard that song earlier, who knows, I might be waiting tables somewhere in Ohio with an emotionally unstable, abusive, "Juliet" of a wife. Imagine how many pivotal moments we must have faced in our lives that would have set our lives apart. I want to post tonight, but I find myself to distracted to focus on a thought. I'll describe my room, instead. I type from my lap top on the bottom bunk of a bunk bed all for me. The sheets are a nasty yellow color you might expect to find on a child's favorite "banky." To my left, a snake necked desk light hangs down from above, providing enough light for me without disturbing any slumbering room mates. On the wall are several post cards I found depicting artsy photographs of modern middle eastern architecture. Beside them, a poster from Pulp Fiction, depicting the scene of "divine intervention" in Marvin's apartment, now resides. To my right, a shelf serves to store my things, and divide the room a little. The room is maybe thirteen feet by thirteen feet, and the other two bunks are set up similarly. Uniforms, socks, and towels hang from every conceivable thing, and a small television sits at an awkward angle, attempting to accommodate three people from the middle of the room. I'm hunting around my mind for reliable grounding. My moods have been far too situational of late, and they've run the gamut. In the past, solitude and meditation have been great, but here, neither can be easily maintained. With the right foundation, I'm a force. The proper focus can bend fate by will alone. But it's focus that alludes me. My crisis stems from my inability to paint my life in the future. I'm going it blind. I'm cruising down a dark freeway with a pen light. And so, it's time to make the hard choice to those questions that cloud my eyes. Gotta look to the horizon, lower the visor and strike. If, at rides end, I've slain a mill, so be it, it'll be a good ride. I'll have felt the sun, drank the wind, and rouged the cheek a lady or two. | | Tuesday, October 27th, 2009 | | 7:30 pm |
Playing in the sand
I made it. I'm here. I have internet, but it's nearly useless. Facebook won't work no matter where on base I connect from and live journal is nearly as decrepit. I can't even download skype, so I'm feeling pretty freaking isolated from home. I've settled in here and the job is long, but rewarding. I'm getting the stories and memories I wanted and I'm broadening my horizons. With free chow not far and a gym in between, I'm eating better and getting more exercise than ever. I'm developing a deep seated appreciation for graciousness and simple courtesy, as well as empathy, mostly, because I find it so rarely. there is a guy living next door who is friends with one of my room mates. He will periodically open the door to our room, walk in, often push right past me, check on his friend, maybe slap or prod him, and walk out around me without a word. Maybe some folks don't see an issue there, but I see a truck load of decency lost on him. No one else seems to notice, so I let it go. I will continue to masqurade as the quiet one who keeps to himself, but I'll cherrish the little things and and quietly have my fun with these offenses. I took to playing wolly-ball when I got here, and have enjoyed playing with the crews, but last night, you could cut the negativity with a knife. It is difficult to decide wheather it's better to play a game you like with people that bring it down, or give up the game, forcing yourself to find another outlet. Maybe I'm over sensitive. I'm a competitive guy, but I never forget why I play, and people come first. My heart, these days, is teaching me the kind of life I should lead. Maybe I'll become a teacher. Something with heart in it. | | Tuesday, October 20th, 2009 | | 7:48 pm |
I'm here. There is a lot to think about and a lot to do, yet I'm desperately trying to get back to a place in my mind where I really care about any of it. I've never seen a place so desolate. Sometimes it feels like a hot beach near an ocean, yet the coast is ages away. There is a fine layer of dust in the air. It's everywhere. It's in our eyes, our lungs, on our skin, and in our homes. When the sun sets, it lights up the horizon, looking swollen, and ominous. I reside in a realm like those of the war games I used to play. I thread my way between bunkers and barriers every day as the stuff of movies thunders the reality Dolby never quite conveyed. And in the next few days it'll get really interesting. | | Thursday, October 15th, 2009 | | 11:00 am |
Submitted 14 Nov 09- Written 15 Oct 09
11:00 local time- 0200 eastern I sit in my quaint little 70s throwback, florescent lit, green and yellow room, complements of naval billeting, tucked away on a little island called Diego Garcia, drifting in the Pacific. Outside, over the palm trees, white Gul-like creatures flicker through the night making deep guttural rattles rather than caws. Outside, two thirds of the old military buildings are completely dark and a lit building meant maybe a bit of light in a window. The occasional pathetic street lamp amplifies the feeling a foreign pedestrian might confide; floating through a void. For all the spookiness of an abysmally lit setting, quite a few locals still walk the streets from one place to another, amongst the drone of loud old machines, the flap of palms, and the eerie rattle of guls. Forcing yourself to stop one for directions in the least creepy place possible, under a flickering orange street light, is challenging. The buzzing lamp doesn’t really illuminate a whole lot, but it has a nice way of warping a lost stranger looking for the mess hall into Koontz’ latest psychopath. The food was decent. The architecture was thick, one story concrete, like you would expect from an elementary school. There is a bar and a half decent local band that sang “I kissed a girl” and “Hotel California.” The walk back was uneventful. I type now to Lenard Cohen and debate calling it a night. We flew from Thailand today, and we arrive at our destination in Kuwait tomorrow. Tomorrow is a new day. Two days ago, I was sitting in Fussa having curry chicken and listening to a Japanese rendition of Sarah Mclaughlan. Yesterday, I was buzzing around Thailand on a mo-ped, hunting for elusive treasures and dodging cars and pushy street vendors. Tonight, I wandered about an island I can’t even find on a map looking for a meal and a bit of fun, having to hunt down an ATM because the restaurant only excepted cash and all I had was yen and a few bot. Tomorrow, I close on a world near where humanity has lived as long as it has existed. Maybe I’ll take some pictures. | | Sunday, October 11th, 2009 | | 6:59 am |
| | 6:37 am |
Tomorrow is the day. As the west tucks in for the night, the east will rise, then I will be bound for far off lands. Hey, Europe. Lets see how close I get without having been. October has felt like a single week. Where did it all go? So few were the days when the weather changed. I miss it. I miss the cold, the wind, the smell and the whisper. I miss long flowing clothing and goofing off on the porch with Renaissance wear. I miss the rain. I've been dormant, it seems, for at least three months, maybe longer. Probably longer. And here I am, awake, because I've been jarred, yet again. I wonder what will last, or what tomorrow will bring. | | Thursday, October 1st, 2009 | | 7:25 am |
two days of ups and downs. the week has been spent getting everything done, paperwork wise, for my deployment. a mountain of tasks. Funny enough, as painful as the scruples have been, it's a good feeling to accomplish so much so quickly. It's better to knock it out than to worry about it. I've had my blood drawn and had an anthrax and flew vaccination on top of a small pox immunization consisting of FIFTEEN stabings and what they'd probably call a controled infection. Were I to mutate suddenly, I might become the harbinger of the next great plague. Piss me off, I dare you. The active dormites were hanging out having a few beers and watching a movie. By the time the movie was over, they'd all moved on to some other dorm party or another. I finished my beer, finished the movie, and quietly returned to my thoughts. Parties just aren't any fun without goofy people. I miss them. I head for Kuwait the 13th. adventure awaits. | | Monday, September 28th, 2009 | | 4:59 am |
Sorry journal. The darker moments in my adult life are all marked by silence. The longer, the worse. | | Wednesday, September 9th, 2009 | | 2:34 am |
This place is dumb. This morning, the very time I would have stepped to the plane it had to be filled with liquid oxygen, so my preflight was delayed. Instead of arriving at 0600 I was finally able to get on at 0730.... we were to load at 0800 and be at stations by 0815. The plane was in utter disarray, and loading alone would take longer than 15 minutes. So I hacked the mission and got it done with the time I was given. The flight was very rough and I experienced a rare case of nausea, after finishing everything I was unable to do before hand in flight. We hit a bird and had to land to get checked out before finishing the flight. More nausea and a headache. When we landed, I hadn't been very mobile to get the plane cleaned up when a couple of other loads get to the plane to take over for their mission. They were in the market for dealing shit and found plenty of ways to pile it on with "why didn't you do this?" kind of questions on things I hadn't finished doing yet. I mean, I JUST landed and they must have seen the K-loader I was downloading our cargo onto. Give me a break. I get the loaded question, "did you accomplish a thourough walk around? and I'm sure as hell not going to say yes since I'm sure a load with five times my experience will know where to look that I haven't, so I say I had half an hour, it wasn't thourogh. So I get "the face" and the lecture that time isn't an excuse. Jesus Christ. So yeah. I'm all kinds of fed up with the high pressure bullshit. This is not the world I was designed to live in. I'm glad I made the decisions I've made, but when my time here is up, I won't look back either. It'll take something miraculous to ever get me to reenlist. | | Wednesday, August 5th, 2009 | | 6:18 pm |
Flavorless day. Yesterday I couldn't come up with anything worth doing that didn't feel like work, so I chalked it up and slept. Too much sleep isn't really a recharge, it's a haze. | | Monday, August 3rd, 2009 | | 3:26 am |
So...
Today began horrendously. Oh, how the naughty words fly. | | Sunday, August 2nd, 2009 | | 8:14 am |
I burned the candle on both ends this weekend. Two clubs nights in two days, getting home well after sun up. Sunday, on the way back, I passed a Japanese girl acting very strangely, on the sidewalk, coming the other way. She was wearing dark clothing and doing everything conceivable to disappear. She went so far as to take her hair and wrap it around her face. In an attempt to be respectful, I pretended to ignore her, even though we had to zigzag to avoid each other. Within six feet of her, on the corner of my eye I caught another look at her, and something terrifying and visceral seized my mind. My heart leaped out and made a mad go for the base without me, and there I was, a cold lump where my heart should be, skirting passed death disguised as a little Japanese girl on a narrow little sidewalk in Tokyo. Maybe it was how completely bizarre she was acting, or how plainly counter productive making a scene out of hiding can be, but something about her was disturbingly off. I imagined something far worse vainly clutching at the tattered ribbons of a clever visage. Maybe it was the chilling feeling that all was not as it ought to be, or that the way she moved she could have rolled right down out of the attic in The Grudge. Maybe they just take the morning after walk of shame more literally. When I had the brass to look back, she was gone. I caught up to my heart at the gate, and sometime before my dorm, all was well. | | 5:31 am |
Age
Sometimes I'm idly researching the actor or actress in one movie or another to see what they were in that I know, and I come across a movie I really like that feels "fresh" to me, only to discover it's 14 years old or more. Getting older is spooky. | | Monday, July 27th, 2009 | | 3:00 am |
Home
The Japanese one, anyway. Guam was fun. I got to see and do a lot this time, and I accomplished everything I set out to do and then some. I flew around volcanoes, snapped pictures, and watched the sun set, dangling my feet all the while. I dropped Navy over the ocean, dropped Air Force over the land, and ate lunch while the F-22s played. I explored the streets of Guam, lived the night life, and partook in the liberation festival. I had the best Fettuccine Alfredo of my life and took plenty of pictures. When I checked my e-mail, I heard from people I always want to hear from, even some who don't write much. I even had time to squander watching all the television shows I miss in my hotel room. All in all, a good trip. | | Friday, July 24th, 2009 | | 5:11 am |
Another day in Paradise. Saw Transformers again and went to a fancy Italian restaurant. Last day of drops today, but can't say when I'm getting back. It's been a pretty good trip. Relaxing, even. I still need to catch up with Harry Potter before I leave. I'll have to do a little digging and see what I can find about politics of late. Maybe a good international station. | | Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 | | 6:40 pm |
Liberation day. The day the United States liberated Guam from the Japanese during the battle of the Pacific. Island wide party. Game on. | | Sunday, July 19th, 2009 | | 8:35 am |
Today my biggest concern is whether to have lunch before or after the hot tub or the boat. Or maybe I should scope out the scuba diving. Perhaps a nap? Current Music: Garbage, You Look So Fine | | Wednesday, July 15th, 2009 | | 2:19 am |
crazy day, but caught "Terms of Endearment" part way through. Great movie. It reminded me that everyone has a story to tell and it's really amazing if you're lucky enough to catch it. A boring tail is just a dirty window or painful memory. If life didn't hurt like crazy it wouldn't feel so good. My head gets in the way a lot. I think a lot and my head likes to jump ahead of whatever I'm doing. It tries to tell me what to think or how to act or how I SHOULD feel. When I catch up I sometimes feel numb. Everyone else just throws labels on feelings and people and somehow they innately seem to know when things change categories. To me it's often a vast expanse of grey. I just can't tell. I wait for lightning strikes and get distant thunder. My best advice to myself: don't think so damn hard and stop waiting. "What if this is as good as it gets" I'm two thirds to a reply, but if I can truly answer that question, the world is mine. Laughing is definately part of the answer. |
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