“The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A Death! What's that, a bonus?
I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first, get it out of the way.
Then you live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you're too young, you get a gold watch, you go to work. You work forty years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. You do drugs, alcohol, you party, you get ready for high school. You go to grade school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last nine months floating...
...and you finish off as an orgasm.”
- George Carlin
got this off my sergeant's Facebook page. he's the one who, unknowingly, inspired me to try my hand at my first poem.
i'm very protective of my sergeants, i like them all very much. though i've never wanted to be a commander nor do i have the makings of one, when they tell me of their troubles of being a sergeant, as a subordinate, i can't help but feel for them.
times like these, i wish i could be the one protecting them instead.
on an extra note, i've finally told Vick, my chief sergeant, about my.. identity. to put it euphemistically. i am glad. it's slightly ironic; despite being the sergeant i'm closest to, he ended up the last person knowing. in camp anyway.
but there you have it, all the people on my shift - with whom i'm comfortable enough with, and have enough trust in - now knows. it's a weight off my shoulders.
edit: there are a couple more i wish i could tell. oh well, time will present the opportunity.
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