The morning starts with a wash of guilt, a recital of shortcomings, tears are there in less than 30 mins. Fuck. I'm retreating further and further inside. Seeking safety? Cowering? It's all the same to me. I'm all out of courage. I want to thank the soldiers too on this day, as we near 150 years of nationhood. But how can we thank them, we should apologise instead.
We're sorry we lied to you. There is no honour. There will not be any honour. Only despair. Only death. Only your love for your comrades. Then a flag draped over you, the attention finally for you, but too late to the dance. And a "waterfall of...weeping" (Pete Townsend). A surge of patriotism on parade. Perhaps we should seek out matriotism instead. way to go! Way to die you poor (and poor) bastards! Way to believe the lies.
Don't thank our soldiers. Apologise to them. Don't let your children go to the recruiting centers. Don't. Help them find what they seek within themselves. Help them heal before you add more scar tissue.
Do not contribute to the lie. Please.
Post from 2011 - Who am I if I'm not suicidal? What is life like? Where am I uncomfortable because I'm not suicidal? It feels anxiously flat, a nervous nothingness So I feel ...
11 months ago