This is going to be long and rather boring.
I might not keep this, because it might be pointless and I usually prefer to keep my thoughts to myself and my diary. And quite frankly I find this kind of creepy-posting my thoughts on the internet. So I must keep it confidential and censored. At the very least limited. #1, I hope writing shit on the internet will improve my typing on keyboards because I am rather slow (due to lazy teachers who can't teach for jack shit and other wise neglect to teach young children how to type properly) and #2, hopefully this will also give me time to improve my vocabulary (giving me more time to think about what I wish to say and how I will say it).I would just like to say that if anyones reading this, they shouldn't because most of what I will be writing about is pointless and most likely depressing or pointless complaints . This could also be a way for me to release anger and getting things off of my mind. Also, I use my own lingo and language and often I spell out sounds that mean frustration, emotion, etc.
ex. "eughhh...." which often is an exasperated sigh that can mean annoyance, frustration (often accompanied by glaring eyes or rolling eyes) or if followed by an exclamation mark (!) can mean anger. same with "ARGG!!"- (pronounced: ARRR but huskily through the throat) or "ugh". I'm not even going to explain the rest of my writing noises. Mainly, because I'm a lazy shit and don't want to, and because I just don't care that anyone knows exactly what I mean.
Also, I should warn people that I swear often.
SO. For my first actual bloggy I'll write about my first taste of War.
It starts off with reading many books about WWI and WWII. Yeah, emotions become reality when you get right into the book telling the story about someone your own age fighting. Often these books become numb to me and some of the books bother me if they lack emotion and I become annoyed and want to put the book down. But of coarse I don't because they usually have a good story line or it's the only book left that I haven't read. Books like those open up your eyes and make you more prone to emotion. Also, I find that when you feel like you've lived through the same things they have then when you have a mental breakdown ( from real things in reality, not from reading) you go into a battle with yourself trying to separate emotions of make-believe and what's really occurring.
It's difficult to explain what happens in a mental breakdown. I find that I try convincing myself that the reason why I'm going insane is NOTHING compared to what others had to face. OK so lets move on. So after books, theres movies. watching that happend to Jews in WWII is horrible. Rather than reading a book. Not only do you develop a map about things, you understand why no one could do anything. I remember being an ignorant little pissshit child and thinking: "WTF I would of escaped." Stupid, stupid child. YOU COULDN'T. But watching movies you finally realize how scary it is. So movies make it reality too. The other different thing about them is that you develop fear. You don't get fear from books. You get shock, but not fear.
If you are reading a whole book about some kid the same age as you surviving and fighting, then finally his thoughts are cut off and theres a little memo right after about it being a true story and how the kid was shot by a German Lugar or got blow up by a Luft Waffer raid blah blah blah. But you don't really know it-what it was like, until you watch it. It's something that I have a hard time trying to explain.
After movies, there's real life experiences. No, I'm not talking about ME in the war in Afghanistan first hand. I'm talking about soldiers coming home from the war talking about it.
I'm talking about soldiers telling me that you'd see a suicide bomber blow up right next to your truck and see organs all over the window. Veterans from WWII will tell you, they would be talking to a guy then five minutes later he'd be gone. Dead. Kabloueeey.
My first hit of war was like that. One day a friend and I went to a show to watch some bands play. As I was waiting in line the guy in front of me turned around and started talking to me. I remember I liked his shy smile. Perfectly nice sweet guy. Well after about five minutes a bouncer came back and was handing out ticket things. He said that everyone who didn't have one had to go home because the show was sold out. The last ticket he handed out was 4 people in front of us. 3 people in front of that guy. Since we were on the guestlist my friend and I moved up in the line and got to go in the venue. When I think about war, I sometimes think about that guy. How one minute he was there. Then the next minute he was gone. It's sort of a stupid relations between war and waiting in line ups, but really if you think about it, its the same thing...
