Once a Soldier...always a Soldier

It's been more than 16 months since I last put on my uniform. Everyday I go through photographs and think about days gone by. Everytime I try and talk to someone about this, I hear the same thing: being a soldier is an ugly, dirty and wrong job. It consists of killing people, training to kill people, or assisting others in killing people. I've been told that the work of a soldier (to protect his country) is just a bullshit excuse governments use to push us into fighting wars for them that will bring them more money and power. They tell us we're not noble...we're not courageous...

Here's my response - I'm a soldier. I did not join to fight wars. I did not join to be perceived as noble by anyone but myself. Until I joined, I had never fired a gun. Until I joined, I never trained in hand-to-hand combat. I never did want to kill a person, but one-day, I had to - not out of personal necessity, but from an order from some old guy sitting in New Delhi. And that scares the shit out of me. But I'm in the United Nations International Guard. And when that day came, for better or worse I did my duty. I did whatever it took. Does that not make me courageous, even noble? The army, soldiers, me - we protect you. We fight for you. I have had to kill someone I don't know - for you. I live with that - for you. Whether you appreciate it, whether you realize you need it, whether you think you'd rather not need us, we are YOUR army. Tell me you don't need me. Tell me I'm a stupid gun-touting fool. But don't say I'm not noble.

I've seen the pain, I've seen the suffering, I've lost brothers, I've lost friends - now go f**k yourself.

How blogging is like fishing

You might be wondering, how in the world can blogging possibly have anything to do with fishing? Well I have done both, and here I describe my view of each of these things, and perhaps even a basic philosophy of life and patience.

I love fishing, many of my best memories are with my friends fishing around the lagoons in the lowlands of Lagos, Nigeria.

If you like sport fishing, you learn that fishing is all about being patient. Sure you need the right bait, you need a good deep hole, you need to know your “secret” fishing places. But in the end you cast your line out there and wait, and wait some more… and some more….

For me the fishing trip was never really about the actual fishing. The first part of fishing is the adventure of “getting there”. There is also the enjoyment of learning to navigate your way through bush, and water and everything else for hours on end just to try and find a spot in the middle of nowhere but that only a few people have probably ever seen in their life.

Then there is the actual fishing itself. Sitting in quiet solitude, with nothing but your thoughts in your head, watching your fishing line, wondering if you will get any bites. Perhaps, pondering the meaning of life sitting in soaking rain...This is what fishing is like for me, and why I enjoy it.

I’ve been blogging for a few months now, and I think there are several similarities. Sometimes, I feel like each blog I write is like selecting the bait I will pick (the proverbial worm). I have no idea who will take the “bite” and start to read what I have written. It all depends on how you define a “bite” I guess.

But again, blogging, for me, is mostly about the “joy of getting there”. I already have a lot of funky thoughts and ideas that I have been writing for years. Writing what is on my mind is a great stress reliever for me. There are no deadlines or assignments, it’s all about the fun of chatting to myself. If no one else is reading it, oh well. I’ve never been the kind of person that takes others opinions to heart anyway.

Maybe, some day, someone will take a bite, and maybe there will be a payoff, but for now, I just sit patiently with my fishing rod cast into the pond, and wait to see what will happen.

For the record - I'd ALWAYS let my fish free.

World in flames

This one is on the situation in Somalia

A relationship consisted
On wondering if it existed
That five alphabet word but what does it mean?
Kills me inside like amphetamine

World in flames in my imagination
As starvation rapes a nation’s patience
It puts a perspective in my head
Going to bed hoping we don’t wake up dead in pools of blood red

Now souls block the sun
Is it the end or has it just begun?
Love is like nicotine
Kills me inside like amphetamine

World in flames in my imagination
As starvation rapes a nation’s patience
It puts a perspective in my head
Going to bed hoping we don’t wake up dead in pools of blood red

In a world where death counts earn respect

There isn’t much hope that you can expect
But that tiny sliver of hope
Is what saves us from a lurking misanthrope
Is what keeps the world turning
Is what keeps the Damned burning
Instead of rising once more
And come knocking on your door
For once that day will come
Life as we know it will be done
So don’t waste your time and don’t waste mine
Because when Midnight raises Her scythe…
You have no more time

World in flames in my imagination
As starvation rapes a nation’s patience
It puts a perspective in my head
Going to bed hoping we don’t wake up dead in pools of blood red

The time

How and when is your time
Gotta sit back and prioritize
Be strong and dreams you’ll realize
Look and pay attention to your eyes
Stay true and learn not to tell lies
Learn to live and love life
When shit gets tough
Just look up and rise above the hype
Ignore if you don’t wanna be sterotype
Live strong and learn to be ripe
Have a long life and live it right
Times get tough learn to fight
Not with violence but with strife
Words can be powerful and its your time
Grab it squeeze it scream its mine
Of course everything isn’t always fine
Learn to trust but don’t be blind
Crush people who don’t trust
People that don’t love
Toss and thrust
Waste your time with that watch your life bust
Add rust and catch a wind of gust
Leave that shit all up in the dust

Ramblings of a "gifted" mind

• The gibberish I speak is like no other.
• Closed minds can not conceive my train of thought.
• I speak of old days and new, of pleasure and pain, of passion and discontent. I speak volumes not yet written.
• No one knows my struggle to spit these words that appear in my head. Every chance I get, I embrace the inspiration and let the words flow...like the waters of a raging river.
• My words don’t fall - they rise...even the deaf can hear me speak. The power of my pen is mighty; I conquer enemies and uplift souls with my gospel.
• My words are my freedom, my words make me whole.They take me to other times in the fabric of existence. I've got a gift that enables me to see beyond the borders of reality and outside the box of oppression.
• My words stick in your mind and control your every move...impacting your mind, body and soul...and putting your person in perfect harmony. They take you to another level of emotions and warp your state of mind at my beckoning.
• I control your attention and I demand respect! My words can lift you higher than the tallest mountain, or send you tumbling back down in despair. My concept of reality is whatever I imagine; I make words that influence...like drugs affect your hormones, my words leave you like a fiend wanting more.
• My words are a gift to mankind, my gift to the seeds of future generations. Take heed my brothas and sistas, for I stand with you in the fight against injustice, hatred and greed...like my forefathers fought for my generation to live free.
• I set the standard for my deeds. I’m with you through thick and thin, blood is thicker than water and all the people of the world are my blood and I am theirs.
• Accomplish, achieve, succeed and remember these ramblings of a "gifted" mind!

For the record - I in know way think too much of myself. This post is all a happy bored me =)

Searching for what?

Was cleaning up my hard drive when I came across this short write-up...written during my freshman year in college when I was trying to figure out a new major. Maybe it can help someone to see how lost I was, because it did get better.

23rd October, 2005

I’m searching. I don’t even really know for what at this point, but I need to find it. Am I making the right moves? I know some aren’t right, but I’m working on those. The ones that bother me are just so up in the air.

My time: Is this worth it? Am I making the best use of it?

I thought it was homesickness, and I’ll admit that is a large part even still, but now there seems to be so much more to it. This has been keeping me up at nights. Upsetting my stomach. Drawing me into seclusion. I’m pushing away any form of “solid ground” here because (I think) I seem to not see myself staying here. Or something.

Do what makes you happy. That’s a fine phrase. Until someone doesn’t honestly know anymore what makes them “happy.” That’s where I am I guess. Ultimately that’s what I’m searching for, right? Why is it so difficult for me to do that? I thought I had found it, but that seems so impure and jaded now. At least I think it does. Anyway, I spent a solid two hours tonight walking and thinking about what truly would make me happy. Nothing. I drew a blank. All I ended up doing was exhausting my mind even more. Am I supposed to search for it? Or will it just come to me? I am so lost right now!

More than anything I’m frustrated with myself. I’ve always said (at the risk of sounding “cocky”), “I’m good at everything and great at nothing.” My problem is, I want to be great at something! I want to excel at something because it is when I excel that I am happy. That’s part of the reason I’m looking back at what I decided before, I’m not having as much fun with it as I was. Maybe that sounds selfish, but I don’t care. I thought I was picking something I could excel at, and all I do now is see how middle-of-the pack I feel.

Thinking

Bottled up inside are feelings & thoughts that I would never wish to be unleashed, feelings that would make anyone quiver. Thoughts that a person on death row may not even feel suitable. Never before have I felt this low, this depressed, this down & out, this worthless… never before have I thought this long, thought this deeply, thought this was it, I finally thought I’ve gotten myself into something that I can't get out of. Since thinking is all that I’ve done, is that where I went wrong? Maybe thinking so hard isn’t the best solution.

Where did I go so wrong, where did I stumble upon this path that has no end, a road full of depression, heartaches, sin, hate, and the weird thoughts that I contemplate. A path that brings nothing, but sorrow...a path that makes me want to end my soul just to escape from this construction zone that my life has endured. Well that sounds good...I wish i could bring myself to an end  - but right before I can, I get to thinking some more.