Drinks and Smokes

Yeah, I think that sounds right. Well, there's plenty of reason to write about stuff on my mind while I'm out here, but a majority of it is negative. I like to think that people reading my stories don't like negative. But nobody's really reading my stories right now, so here we go. Relationships onboard a ship (you're goddamn right I'm going there) are next to impossible to sustain in a meaningful way. Like most things in the military, they are rushed, unfulfilling, and often leave you in a worse spot than before you started. But there's certain things I've noticed that just...I dunno, make my skin crawl a bit. I'm sure it's out there, and I'm sure you've seen it, but have you ever seen somebody who's been with someone for a long time...and it seems like they can't function as a complete person without their someone stapled to their side? There's a few like that here. One case in particular seems to get way more wary when sh...

I occasionally get struck by some feeling of loneliness from time to time, being out here. I wonder about how my friends are getting along, what's wrong with my family, whether or not home's still the same place as I left it, and other such idle worries. That's why I'm really glad for the Internet, I swear. Helps me keep up with all the wonderful things people I know are doing. Well, the good and the bad. I mean, a lot of it is just tripe. People arguing over stupid things, people trying way too hard to be funny, people claiming their life is way worse than it is, and on and on. People fighting, loving, and doing everything else in between. But it's the occasional diamonds in the rough that I live for. The ones that make it all worth sorting through. Like one of my good friends pursuing her second (!!!) master's degree in music pedagogy. I don't even know what music pedagogy even is, but I'm proud as hell. It's swell, it really is. Or another friend ...

Well, I've finally made it this far. Somehow. Today marks the halfway point of the time I intended to put into military service. It's part of my overarching goal to go back to school and make a better life for myself than this. I've currently been in for 3 years and 3 months, and I'm about to re-enlist for 4 more, to make things work out the way they need to. By the time I'm finished, I'll have a plethora of experience, no debt, and a way to get to college again. I'll do it the right way this time. But, as much as it seems like a struggle through each day, service hasn't been all bad, really. I've met a bunch of cool people from all over the place, seen almost every European country with a coastline, seen parts of Asia and Africa, and I'm about to find myself in the Capitol to do the rest of my time. I've seen and done quite a lot, and for that I'm grateful. It's just the lifestyle I never could wrap my head around. My supervi...

I'll give you a brief glimpse into my military life, as much as it diverges from my old life I wish I had back. There's a ceremony within the Navy that commemorates a ship and its sailors for crossing over the equator. Those that do it are usually known as Shellbacks, or Sons (and daughters, lest I forget that detail) of Neptune. It's a sort of symbolic ceremony where poliwogs (those that haven't crossed the line) are lined up to give a sort of tribute to appease King Neptune, usually in the form of some sort of comedy or show of skill. And holy hell, everybody tries their damn hardest to get everyone to participate. I chose not to do so for a few reasons, most notably for my spirit of pragmatism and the simple fact that it just isn't my kind of thing to do. I'm by no means an entertainer, I get ridiculous stagefright being up in front of people in charge of me, and I'm generally just a wreck when goaded into these sorts of events. I don't like it,...

To kick things off, I suppose the best thing would be to explain why I'm doing what I'm doing. A little while ago, one of my best friends reminded me of the time that we both had blogs back in high school. They were filled with sappy, dramatic shit; the stuff that relatively normal teenagers would post on a forum like this. Poetry, day-to-day drivel, and other bits of chaos. Mine made me cringe way more than I expected to. Dunno about her. (probably a little) Regardless of the overt cringe factor, it helped me remember times when we used to argue a hell of a lot, despite being great friends. We argued over everything under the sun, from the trivial, stupid things, to the important issues guiding our lives. She used to tell me everything; the boys she liked, the thoughts she had, her dreams, goals, aspirations, life stories. It feels heartwarming now, although younger me probably didn't think so highly of it. I honestly forgot, but it's a reasonable thing to suspect...

Hi. ...is a stupid way to start this off. But I'm forcing myself to write here, so let me try again. I'm Jack. 24. Generally disillusioned person. Enlisted military. Definitely not the main character in the story. I came from humble roots, in a small farmtown in Missouri. I lived easily, despite how poor we were, and I did a lot of my growing up on my own. My father and brother being hard-working laborer types, and my mother being more soft spoken and intelligent. I grew up as a reasonably intelligent person, with less than adequate social skills. I had few friends, was bullied rather frequently, and it left me with a great deal of childhood anger and a sardonic wit. Went to college for two years, but dropped out because of failing grades, weed, and depression. Worked a shitty 9-to-5 job afterwards, gave up on it, and enlisted with the military, eager for a second chance. I've currently been enlisted for three and a half years, with the end goal being approximately s...