Thank You…

He’s lost, alone
Afraid, not home.
He can only smile, as the card sits there and stares
He can only smile, knowing there’s someone who cares
Someone out there, who knows he’s alone
Someone out there who knows he wants to go back home
He’s depressed, again, of course he is
He has been in Okinawa for far too long, and its amounted to this
He thanks that unnamed, unknown person, for dropping the card there,
He’s glad to know there’s someone out there, who cares.

This Is My Rifle…

Well, to begin with, let me just say this. I’ve been to Iraq, my brother is heading there soon, and I know what kind of things he goin to go through while he’s there. Granted, I went well after the initial invasion, and he, thankfully, is goin well after me, so the threat is still continuing to degrade. However, the threat is always eminent.

So, that being said, I just awoke from a dream, you could call it, about the sandbox, and, I thought I should write this. I know what it is like to be over there for Christmas, so, I’m giving a shout out to all of my heroes and heroines over there, doin what they probably wish they weren’t but, have the fortitude to wake up and say, “Let’s do it.”

This is to them….

The Creed Of The U.S. Marine (The Creed Of Us All)

This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine.
My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as
I must master my life. My rifle, without me, is useless. Without
my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot
straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must shoot
him before he shoots me. I WILL… My rifle and myself know that
what counts in this war is not the rounds we fire, the noise of
our burst, nor the smoke we make. We know that it is the hits that
count. WE WILL HIT… My rifle is human, even as I, because it is
my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its
weaknesses, its strength, its parts, its accessories, its sights
and its barrel. I will ever guard it against the ravages of weather
and damage as I will ever guard my legs, my arms, my eyes and my
heart against damage. I will keep my rifle clean and ready. We will
become part of each other. WE WILL… Before God, I swear this creed.
My rifle and myself are the defenders of my country. We are the
masters of our enemy. WE ARE THE SAVIORS OF MY LIFE. So be it, until
victory is America’s and there is no enemy, but peace!

by Major General William H. Rupertus (USMC, Ret.)
(written following the attack on Pearl Harbor)

His Sad Youth (A Look From The Outside)

He’s tired, he wants to go home
But he can’t, so he sits there
Drinking a beer, all alone.

He looks at his life here
His not-so-newly acquired home
And he drinks away pain every night
Still sitting there, all alone.

He wants to quit smoking, but at the same time he thinks
“You work fourteen hours a day.”
And now you know why he perpetually drinks.

He needs a break, he needs time off
Most folks know, but don’t care for the truth
He needs time away from work, for now
He’s way too old for his sad youth.

205

You may not know
But at the same time you do
Two-hundred and five
The world anew.

I’m Done…

So, after the events that transpired last night, I decided that after tonight, I am only going to drink on special occasions. Occasions such as Yule, perhaps Christmas Eve/Day (out of loneliness), New Year’s Eve, et cetera. What events, you ask? Well, let me tell you.

Last night, not even planning on going out, I did. I went to a bar with a few of my Marines and hung out for a little while. Then, about half an hour after we got there, one of my friends, who I went to Iraq with, came in. Jeffrey Hicks. He was cool at first, then he reclaimed the title of two-beer queer. He was pretty much intoxicated before we left that place.

When we did leave, we went to another bar in that same area where he continued to drink until it was time to go. We all had fun, right one, right on.

We got back to my room. Hicks doesn’t live on my base, but I told him he could stay in my room, hell, he was my roommate in Iraq for seven months, no big deal. Well, we got there, and he decided that he wanted to play my keyboard. I wanted to go back out, so I was trying to get him to go to sleep, but it wasn’t happening.

Soon, enough, he started hallucinating, or something, arguing with one of my walls, and acting all possessed. Then, he was being stupid, so I put him in a choke hold. When I let him go, his face smacked the floor, resulting in the image below. I took him to the ER, and the scanned his head and all that.

Moral of the story is, if I meet you somewhere, don’t get stupid, or you’ll look like that guy.

I’m Tired

I’m trying to stay positive
I’m trying to stay on point
I still want to quit smoking
But at the same time, I’m so annoyed.

I’m sick of work, I just want out
I’m tired and I need some rest
Quitting smoking, right now’s probably a bad idea
This is like an impassable test.

It’s almost over, I tell myself,
Trying to lie my way through the day
But in the end it doesn’t matter
Because the people I work with live at the same place that I stay.

This poem is just me bitching
Or venting, what have you
So I’m sure your tired of reading it
Because I’m tired of writing it too.

An Automatic Experience

Well, today I decided to try something new and different. I decided to give a shot to automatic writing. For those of you who don’t know what automatic writing is, it is basically occupying your mind for a while, while you hold a tip of a pen on a piece of paper. Eventually, your hand will move, more than likely, slow at first, then faster and faster. Eventually, you will probably end up with an illegible page of scribbles, but that is only the beginning.

After a few tries, letters will begin to form, soon enough words, then, finally, entire sentences perhaps. It is amazing.

Anyway, the reason I wanted to do this is because I have a definite interest in the occult, and, this week, my mind is occupied reading Raymond Buckland’s Book of Spirit Communications. Well, in the book, he talks about automatic writing, and it inspired me. I’ve known of automatic writing for quite a long time, but, I’ve never tried it, until it was suggested. I did it.

The first, nothing but scribbles. The second was quite interesting. As I was sitting there occupying my mind watching videos on YouTube, my hand was moving, writing, whatever. I felt the writing speeding up, and I couldn’t help but look at the paper because I was nearing the bottom of the sheet. So, I kept flipping the page, until my hand seemed to go berserk. I was moving way faster than I could ever write. Who ever is over on that side of the spirit world definately has something to say.

None the less, in finishing that session, I had eight pages, and a few words and phrases that I could read;
when the house… who… her… check with us… where… dead all… when… wear heel… feel were not… ring…
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Those were some of them. I had somebody else go over the writing also, for verification. I don’t know what it means, but, hey, I plan on having plenty of other physical communications with the other side. It was pretty intense, I’m definitely a little tired right now, so, I must go to sleep.

Everybody have a good night, Thank you for reading.

The Funnel….

So, earlier today, I was talking to my friend Doc Barron again, and I stumbled upon a thought, I think it’s a good one, good enough to write about at least. Anyway, this thought was an analogy about life.

Life is like a box of chocolates…., just kidding. Life, as we know it anyway, as in, the human kind of life, is comprised with a series of coincidences, occurrences, dreams, dilemmas, and the like. Now, if you look at all of those listed above that have happened within your life, and you realize that they will all eventually come to one meaning, then you can see how I see life as a funnel.

At first, everything is at the top, swirling around, doing whatever, as your life progresses, the funnel drains and drains, until eventually, it comes to a point. That one point in which all of those dreams, coincidences, occurrences, and dilemmas all come together, like a puzzle to make one solid thing. The, What’s it all leading up to? answer.

Well, there it is, my thought about the funnel of life, enjoy your day.

These Dreams…

I’ve had these dreams, these interesting dreams
About a lot of people that I know
Dreams of love, and giving hugs
It was an awesome, awesome show.

But what do they mean? I must meditate
So I can find the key
I must search my mind, for the insight
Of all that I have seen.

These dreams are written, inside a book
So I may refer to them again
But if I need not, I’ll keep on smiling
Because I know the time was right for them.

Emergency Blog!

Okay, I just had one of my many interesting experiences, and I felt that I should tell it to all of my faithful readers.

Well, a little while ago, I was laying on my bed reading Raymond Buckland’s Book of Spirit Communications when I happened to dose off, not because of the book, because I am a little bit tired. So, in the short time that I was asleep, I had a dream of a random, male face that said, “Wake up.” to me. I did.

Not wanting to disrespect Mr. Buckland again by falling asleep, I got up to check my email. I had two new messages in my inbox, and one of them just happened to be a Google Video Alert telling me that Episode 14 of Living The Wiccan Life was up for viewing. Cool, I thought as I clicked the link.

Well, after it was done buffering, I soon realized that it was an interview with Raymond Buckland.

I just thought that I would share that experience with all of you. So, as always, thanks for reading.