No Bullets, No Explosions, Nothing To Do

"I've got a little black book with my poems in
I've got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb
When I'm a good dog they sometimes throw me a bone
I got elastic bands keeping my shoes on
Got those swollen hand blues.
Got thirteen channels of shit on the T.V. to choose from
I've got electric light
And I've got second sight
I've got amazing powers of observation
And that is how I know
When I try to get through
On the telephone to you
There'll be nobody home
I've got the obligatory Hendrix perm
And I've got the inevitable pinhole burns
All down the front of my favourite satin shirt
I've got nicotine stains on my fingers
I've got a silver spoon on a chain
I've got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains
I've got wild staring eyes
I've got a strong urge to fly
But I've got nowhere to fly to
Ooooh Babe when I pick up the phone
There's still nobody home
I've got a pair of Gohills boots
And I've got fading roots."

Off days are great and all, don't get me wrong. Its when you realize that you have nothing to do that you take a look around and think, "Fuck," because you know you're just going to waste a day, wishing you had something to do.

The internet, fickle bastard that it is out here, times itself perfectly, cutting off just before you click SEND on a long email or something similar. The wind rocks the tent and makes the metal beams creak, like nails on the chalkboard of your skull.

This is the likely assessment of what I'm going to do with the rest of this day:

Shower, check.

Eat one of those peanut bar things.

Watch more episodes of 24.

Consider bringing laundry in to be washed.

Forget to bring laundry in.

Systematically glance at both yahoo and msn messengers, to find that no one is on.

Stand outside and smoke, iPod optional.

Pass up lunch, sticking to the one meal a day routine, with the likelihood of snacking here or there.

Consider walking to the PX.

Decide ahead of time that the PX will be a disappointment like it always is.

Consider walking to use the phones after somehow acquiring phone card minutes.

Remember that I despise the phone. Automated answering services, push-this-button-to-have-an-aneurysm. Repeated tones of ringing, a busy signal if we're lucky.

Decide that the rest of the world has shit going on too.

Consider going to the gym.

Don't go anyway.

Consider reconfiguring gear on body armor.

Don't do it though.

Possibly make bed and straighten up cramped living quarters.

Perhaps smoke again.

Walk over to my "adopted platoon" (the one I work with now that I'm on the ground) and see what they're doing.

50/50 chance of sitting down and watching a movie with the boys. This is the one candidate for High Point of the Day.

Consider walking to the chow hall to eat.

Mental coin toss.

Wonder offhand what day or month it is.

Fantasize about leaving this place for good.

Become distracted with boredom.

Achieve nothing.

Go to bed way later than I should.

1 Comment:

  1. hooch said...
    wow...not to compare wlc to iraq but it sounds exactly the freaking same as the crap i went through. one way to pass time is to take black camo paint and draw various configurations of facial hair i could never grow.

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