Little did we know
What the future would hold
Or that we'd be bought and sold
When we were innocent*
*lyrics by Carl Bell
I read a book the other day while I was substitute teaching. It was about a kid of 19 who was a Marine in Viet Nam, during some of the worst battling there. He was on Hill 861 during the Holiday season though the Tet Offensive battle of 1969.
It just strikes me again and again. War is hell, they say, but there's really no knowing that unless you've been there. (And of course, I haven't). The people fighting for us cannot be fully trained for the horrors of what they must see and do. It changes them forever. And they are boys. Boys who forget how to cry, boys who must learn to turn off emotions like compassion for a time in order to survive.
The costs of war are not just in dollars or lives lost. My brother was in Iraq, and didn't see much action. But already, he's changed. (I could argue that he changed when he went into the Marines, but that's another topic, another blog).
Reading the book from this kid's account also reminded me of how little the powers that be regard the men and women (often boys and girls) who are doing their dirty work. These kids weren't prepared, they weren't trained on all of their weapons, they weren't told the truth. Once they learned the truth, they felt bewildered, abandoned, afraid. It breaks my heart.
I have great, great respect for the armed forces soldiers who must go into countries unknown to fight for us. That they believe in something enough to risk their very lives means so much to me, I could never express it. But I don't believe that this war is just or good, and I feel like our people are being sent into another Viet Nam.
This is terribly disjointed, but I am on my way to work.
Peace.
Right now, I am:
Wearing: Pink underwear, boring ones because the tide is in. A white bra, a pretty one. LEI jeans. A pink tshirt with white snowflakes on it (long sleeved). No footwear.
Listening to:Such Great Heights, Keane
With: Myself.
Eating: Nothing at the moment, but the last thing I ate were Trader Joe's crabcakes. Mmmm!
Missing: My friend Nichole.
Reading: Franny and Zooey, again.
Wishing for: More Christmas money!
Anticipating: The holidays!
Dreading: The same! And dreading the time when there's no sub teaching. Ugh.
Hating: The crick in my neck.
Loving: My children and the wonderful JJ Bowes.
Now you play! I made this up myself.
I'm rarely home. Anyone who knows me can attest. But when I am home, I want my place to be quiet and my private refuge.
This is the only similarity that I can see between my mother and I. I am drained by having too much company, too long of company, or the wrong kind of company.
Also, I'm really bothered that I've lived here so long and this place still looks generic to me. I have ideas, finally. I want to decorate! But I don't have a lot of money or know-how.
Just frustrated.
Indecision lately. Don't know what to do. Filing love under unnecessary. Can put mind to higher ideals if love is out of picture. Love is selfish. Money sucks. Trying to become all "zen" about not having any. Working at restaurant tomorrow so I can get some tiny bits o' cash.
On a good note, I had the BEST kid run around day today. November 5 and it was 71 degrees out.
I feel like I know what I'm good at, now how can I use that to the greater good?
Disjointed. Want ice cream. None available. Bah.