It's some time around 6 a.m. on Tuesday, September 10. Why am I being so specific? I have no idea. But we're going to make this blog post interesting, because it's going to be a stream of consciousness type deal. Man... you think rant enough already?
So, I've been working on this short story for a really long time. Probably since about March of last year, give or take a couple of weeks. It's semi-autobiographical. The main character is basically a depiction of the kid I used to be during my first couple of years of college. Actually, he might be a little more daring and a lot more of a ladies man than I was. Even though he lacks game in the story, I used to lack ten times more game than him. It's kind of sad really. There's subtle hints as to him being me. Like how we share the same initials and how we both have an intense interest in music. He doesn't really dress like I do, but then again, we can't all dress as well as I do. Some people can't afford Brooks Brothers. Well, neither can I, but I find it in thrift stores everywhere. That's Connecticut for you.
Anyways, the female in the story is kind of a composite of all of the girls that I have had an interest in over the years. Maybe not all of the girls, but the ones that actually meant something to me. Those who friendzoned me, the ones that didn't, the ones that broke my heart, the ones who hated my guts. I like to think they're all somewhere inside this character. At the same time, she's almost the reason why it's a work of fiction. Blondes aren't really my type and I'm not really an ass man like I made the main character of the story. I'm not really an anything man. I like cute short brunettes who like good music. That's really all it takes to impress me. I'm easy. I better not broadcast that too loudly. People are going to think I'm a slut.
I can't believe I put Manchester Orchestra on this writing playlist. Especially "Colly Strings." It's the song that reminds me of my first bad breakup. Maybe I wanted to be reminded so that I could add another piece of myself to the story. Hey, anything's possible. I haven't slept at all tonight and I'm still running off of some caffeine I had a little earlier with a Diet Pepsi. I'm stuck on my story and I don't know how to continue it to the point where I want it to end.
The last hour of my time was spent Googling "songs about heroin." Why? I have no clue. That search was done after the "songs about cocaine" search. Again, I have no idea as to why. Maybe I thought the songs would make me feel better about myself. Maybe I thought that I could attempt to understand that euphoria through the songs rather than experience it. Works out better for me, health and profession-wise. I can't be doing that shit when I want to be an officer in the U.S. Army.
To be honest, I really hate officer candidate school. It sucks. But I want to be an officer and it's the only option I have left to do it. I've graduated college, so I can't go the ROTC route. I'm not going to law school, so I can't be a JAG person. I'm definitely not going medical, so I can't do that either. This is really the only way for me to be an officer. OCS sucks and all the TACs gang up on me because they think I'm weak. Yeah. Good luck trying to break me, you sons of bitches. You get me for one weekend a month.
Damn. I have drill this weekend. I really don't want to go. But I have to. It's a necessity. Why do I even want to be an officer? Because I want to make my country and family proud? Nah. Is it the money? No. I want to be an officer because I want to feel like I've accomplished something in my life. Obviously, my college degree isn't doing anything for me. When I spoke to my recruiter, I honestly felt like this would be my last chance to make my mark on the world. I just wanted to accomplish something good in my life. Live up to more than what I expected for myself. Is that fucked up? Am I messed up in my head? Who isn't? We've all got problems. Some are just better at hiding it than others.
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