Pack-rat.

I’ve been detained for 8 days over some minor offense. Starts tomorrow.
 
I’m packing like a bimbo on a camping trip; i’ve got a big bag already waiting for me at the base, and not remembering what i put in it or how many, i’m bringing another one.
I’ve got approx. 30 movies, plus the two first seasons of ‘the Shield’ on CD and DVD, and a mobile DVD player i borrowed from a friend -
two books, my mp3 player and a spare CD of music, and i’ve eventually decided to bring my guitar over – i’ll plug it into computer speakers or something – just so i wouldn’t get overly rusty.
 
If i get bored this next week, it definitely won’t be my fault.
Come to think of it, how the hell am i going to get all this back home?..

Dig the backseat.

I’m full of music.
 
I’m tempted to say this is good thing, but i’m hard pressed to do so. I think, in a way, it’s just that it’s all i have left.
Day 220.
I’m improving, but my pills are gone – and being under the supervision of the brilliant army healthcare system (broken bones? here’s some aspirin for you. Will cure your asthma, while you’re at it), i’m not likely to get any more, or any other kind of treatment in the foreseeable future.
 
I’m drifting away from everything i had accomplished these past two or three years.
The domains i thought were mine, the things i thought i had achieved once and for all.
Things are more reversible than they seem. Things are always more reversible than they seem.
 
I find myself far more sociable then before.
I think after 20 years i have found my nichè – and considering it has been going on pretty much since i’ve signed in the army, both in and out of it, it’s probably not a locational matter.
I don’t quite know what’s changed. I can tell you i talk much more than i used to.
So much more, actually, that it started to seriously bother me. If there’s one thing that truly annoys me, it’s blabbermouths and noisy people in general.
Be what it may, it’s working.
I sport a host of friends with whom i have relationships that are not beneficial as before, but truly instinctive.
Put plainly (meaning, to cut the crap), these are not friends that it’s important i have, or that it’s good to have for some reason.
These are friends i’m happy to be with. Friends who’se company i find pleasant.
For the most part, anyway. Err not, i’m still a sociopath :).
 
And now, as much as you know i’d like to
I’m not gonna say a thing
‘Cause you just might be compelled
to reciprocate.
 
Quotes always come by too late, don’t they?..

Dulcinea?

My memory of her is surprisingly vivid.
 
As clear as i can remember her, she was standing there, tightly pressed against that toy shirt she chose to greet me with.
She had a permanent smart-ass expression, subtly smeared across her stunning, plain face – one of the prettiest i’ve ever seen.
 
I kept waiting for her to disappoint, to do something unbefitting of this simple beauty and casual charm of her, but she never did -
it’s as if i had at last found a girl who was truly unaware of that impossibly cute, plain charm that surrounded her.
One that was every bit as innoccent as she appeared to be.
Perhaps one that matched the impression of impeccable purity i tend to attach in my mind’s eye to every person i’m fond of.
 
I remember her on the bus.
It was empty, and we each took a pair of seats for ourselves – i sat on the row directly behind her.
She called me nasty. I asked why.
‘Don’t you want to sit with me?’, she replied.
I did.
I remember her hair. It was smooth and warm.
She fell asleep on my lap that day, on the bus.
To this day, i think that leaning on someone on a bus and falling asleep is one of the most romantic gestures one can make.
Her hand was petting mine, my fingers coursing through her hair.
 
I don’t know how i managed to ignore that intimacy the second we got off that bus.
I was always ignorant to the point of offending, and i wonder if i should forgive myself.
 
Two months later we were at the base.
She was standing in the kitchen, slicing vegetables.
It always seemed beneath her, but i guess every job dignifies it’s owner.
She smiled at me as i walked in, a big, warm, quiet smile.
‘What’re you smiling at?’, i teased her.
‘Nothing’, she said, ‘i just like seeing you, that’s all.’
I couldn’t help myself but hug her from behind, my head on her shoulder.
We stayed like that for a long while.
 
The whole thing was made into a farce.
The joke rolled between my teammates that i wasn’t doing anything about her courting ’cause i was gay.
It was funny as hell, actually, as some of them took it more seriously than others.
 
It was easier coping with the comedy of my insecurity and denial than with the fact i never thought i was good enough for her.