December 04, 2010 pt 2

When I think of it, it's
amazing how different things are here.
Here, it's like God is shining a giant light, a glorious, blinding
light on everything you do.
Seeing each action and judging it,
weighing it,
finding you worthy,
or not.
But in america
it's dark.
It's muddy.
It's dirty.
Dirty in the soul,
rather than the body.
And the choices are never clear.
And they never matter.
Nothing matters.
Here, everything matters.
Everything.
What you eat.
What you wear.
How much sleep you get.
When you last
talked to your loved ones.
Whether you
have your knife,
your gerber,
your weapon
your tournequiteyourammunitionyourglovesyourwatchyourwateryourheadlampyourfleecehatyourwhoopieyourponchotheclsbagyourclpyourseatbeltcutteryourhelmettheheadspaceandtiminggaugeyourhatyourextrasocksthesmokegrenadesdo youhaveitcanyougettoit?
over here everything matters.
In America, nothing matters.
Forget something, so what?
Go get it.
So what?
So what?
Everything in america is so what.
Here, nothing is ever so what.
There is always an answer to that question.
Here, God watches you, and judges you, cruelly at times.
There, God doesn't even know you exist.
You are ants, and your lives without meaning,
or value, or even worth judging.
How am I ever going to leave this?
How am I ever going to go home to my family?
When the war is over?
The war will never be over.
Not the war on the ground,
fought with guns
and bombs
and knives
and stones.
Not the war inside us,
that we cannot put down.
The war will never be over.
How can I go home?