Like Reality

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Date: January 21, 2000

Michelle Jane Sparkles

Blog 164

How the hell did all this happen? How could I let this happen to me, my family, but most of all, my country? I’m a damn disgrace, that’s what I am… I couldn’t follow through with my job and that is why I have failed. And all it took was a right turn too, if we took the left turn it would have been fine. I wouldn’t have had to leave my unit, my home. My life, that’s what it was. All of that was my life, it was who I was, it was everything. So now I have nothing, I’m a worthless, self loathing nothing. Like a speck of dust on a old bookshelf that's been abandoned.

They called me honorable, you know? Honorable... there is nothing honorable about me. What’s honorable is dying for what you believe in, it’s being able to do your job until your body forces you to stop because you’ve been through so much crap it literally can not do it anymore. I didn’t do any of that. All that happened to me is an RV crash into a stupid shake in the middle of nowhere that made the fire wall collapse right on my ankle that made me a permanent hobbling cripple. That’s why I’m here, in this cramped, tiny ass apartment. I am incapable of servicing. If we just took a left, there wouldn’t have been a mob of angry people wanting to punish the army for whatever had been done wrong to them. Private Mart wouldn’t had swerved off the road, and none of this would have happened and I would be a someone and not a no one. But the point I’m trying to make here is, I am not honorable. Not by a long shot.

A lot of people were disappointed when I didn’t accept the ‘honorable title’ when I was being medically discharged, but like I just said, I don’t deserve it and I don’t care about any argument otherwise.

It’s been a year since that whole mess of a disaster happened. Of course they offered me a desk job so that I would ‘still be involved and helping my country….’ Of course, I rejected that too, everyone knows desk jobs are a just a way to try and make people like me feel better about themselves and like we’re somewhat important. Which a load of crap; I would rather became a civilian cripple than live a life of lying to myself. So now I live in a square apartment that only has a kitchen, bathroom, and living room. With microwavable dinners and payments due every month. Yep, definitely worthless.

Of course, there’s my sister; she’s saying I need to see a psychologist, build my self esteem, and a whole list of other things that I have to do. She’s just asking for me to punch her, I swear. Especially because she won’t leave me the hell alone, practically calls by the hour and brings me lunch on her break. I have to pretend to sleep for her to finally leave and go back to work. Like, oh my God, if I want to live in a stupid apartment and sit here until I die, why can’t I? And it gets worse- I know, shocking- she tries to make me leave the apartment and have “fun,” which entails her dragging me to a restaurant to meet some random dude that she tries to set me up with. It’s like reliving high school, and frankly, I don’t know if she even knows that we aren’t teenages anymore. She’s like the stereotypical lil’ perfect miss popular. Super emotional, tries to get me to do stupid girly things (like date), liked by everyone she and I have ever met… Need I say more? That’s Marry all right, but what can you do. She’s all the family I’ve got other then my unit, and they’re gone now, so I suppose I have to put up with her. I mean, she has good at heart, so I can’t just tell her to screw off, now can I? Even more so because of how sensitive she is; if you even raise your voice at her a little bit she’ll start to cry.

Anyway, this isn’t an “Everything About Marry” tutorial- I’m getting off track. This is a blog about me wallowing in self pity. How you all sit in the comfort of your homes and find enjoyment or some form of entertainment in this, I have no idea. Not because of morals or emotions, I don’t care a rat’s ass about that. But from the amount of shear boredom that comes out of it. I tried to read over my blog once and I will never do it again, it was the worst thing I’ve ever read in my life. I mean, I thought history lessons were bad but this makes them look like a theme park. How I have as many people as 60 subscribers on my blog is a God given miracle, so let me give you some advice. Go. Get. A. Life. I’ve seen enough death to know that life is short, too short. I realise I sound like any old movie with a military vet or really old person talking to a kid. But it’s true, and to spend it reading crap like this- ha!- you must really not care about anything. Now some of you smartasses out there may argue, “if it’s such a waste why am I wasting my time writing it?” Well, my clever little smartasses, it’s because I don’t care. I really, really don’t, because I don’t have a life. I don’t have a purpose anymore. Nothing.