Irony.

"And it was these hands that pushed the pieces together. It was this voice that consoled and reassured."

What a lovely mission. May I have another tomorrow? And tomorrow evening? Can we just do this one mission over and over and over? So...that's work.

Customs shit. Ready to see the boys. Just about everything else I am ambivalent about.

At this moment I am shaky and smoking too much. Considering some coffee. Looking for answers. But you know me... always afraid to ask the questions. Or am I just afraid of the answers? Perhaps, I predetermine what the answers will be and just fear being right. Who knows? Certainly not this guy. At this particular moment I'm trying to not let this affect me. I'm short time. I've got things I need to be focusing on. Other than this drivel. I've arrived at conclusions. I've done the math so to speak. Cause speaking is one of those things that while not completely fond of, I do. I see the music and get all the wrong messages. Then I look at the reality and get something else entirely. It's what I do.

I would carry on my 1000 worlds but this week they are all a bit too raw and a little too.... weird? Possible? Enraging? Whacked out? Something not to reprint here. I'm' sure there is more to say, but I'm on edge from mission and everything else and kinda scattered and all over the place. I can't really think straight, I've been awake for twenty four hours and my first instinct right now (that's actually doable here in Iraq) is to go lift weights. It's a fucking mess. Nothing else to say. Have a fucking night. I surely have.