For the lack of a better idea, I'm writing about having nothing to write about. Nothing is coming to mind. The Army. Yes. It's the Army's fault. All that vast, untamed wilderness where my mind once galloped and thrived has been populated and polluted by military non-sense. If nothing else, I've learned just how perishable cognitive powers are.
Given enough time in an environment of considerable social isolation (two years on a military base in the Bavarian boonies and one year in a god-forsaken war zone) while being subjected on a daily basis to desensitization training, one can wake up and wonder what happened to his identity. Lost like a set of keys to a car you don't even remember parking.
Then something human happens. You meet a girl. And she sees what you thought was lost. She sees who you want to be and there you are, living and breathing, occupying your body again. Awkward to feel again, painful and so suddenly shocking like regaining consciousness at the wheel just in time to swerve from the ledge of a cliff. Something to write about.
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