A pirate's life for me
What does it mean to be a silent professional? Does it mean moving in to do a hard-hit without uttering a word? Does it mean not blowing OPSEC on your precious twitter account? Does it mean not bragging about aspects of the job that would make others uncomfortable? Or does it mean just shutting your suck long enough for the first sergeant to give yet another sexual harassment brief?
A window into the warrior subculture, via a bit of formal philosophy
Well, it’s a new year. Welcome to 2015. This is the year we were supposed to have flying cars and hover boards. Color me disappointed.
It’s taken me 31 years to figure out that there are two types of people in your life: balloons and anchors.
People just don’t get it. I’m not just talking about the straights. Vets don’t get it a lot of the time, either. PTSD isn’t a paycheck. PTSD isn’t some ailment to mention to your friends so you can come off as some kind of mysterious, battle-hardened, warrior. PTSD isn’t what you blame your temper tantrums on, or your shitty outlook, or your just plain, bad attitude.
“Will you still hold me, when you see what I have done? Will you still kiss me the same when you taste my victim’s blood?”
I woke up this morning and as custom, scrolled through my newsfeed. As I shuffled through old pictures of people in their uniforms, I came across a post by a well-known veteran’s page and read his update concerning Veteran’s Day.
“We are the rose, that grew from the crack in the concrete.”
-Memphis May Fire