20100117-1945
Tea at the principal’s house will not happen. For some reason, this was the breaking point for me. I can’t take any more stories about murder and killing without ripping my hair out at the roots. None of them are new to me anymore. No less painful, but they never end. I just don’t think I am physically able to continue to closet myself.
So much shit went through my head for like an hour while I was on the roof, I made two or three audio journals. Don’t know if I have my emotions figured out yet, or if I ever will. Maybe this is a bridge I’m not allowed to help build.
as a combat veteran, people saying either “thank you” or “fuck you”
hope sells, grief doesn’t
pains me that the folks we’ve spoken to think that atrocities are the only stories soldiers have to share.
