themaelstrommind

[themaelstrommind]

Another day for the man on fire. Another moment of not being able to control my emotions. One last firey outburst that's probably wasn't what I thought it was. More friendships severed. More people written out of my life.

It is what it is. I'm so pissed off and blinded by my inability to deal with things reasonable.

[themaelstrommind]

Welp - here it is again. March 20th, 2024.

God. Damnit.

I don't know why I'm so depressed. I don't know why I'm such a fucking child and just want to set things on fire and watch them burn. Like every year, I bring so much fake ass hype and allure around my birthday. "It's gonna be the best one yet! I am loved and adored! All the good vibes in the world! YEAH!"

And yet - I am lesser. I woke up with a sheer need to destroy things. Friendships, relationships, my memories. All I see through this lens is grey tones and I can't help but to feel that this is by design. I'm destined to build things and set them ablaze. I'm never satisfied. I'm selfish. I'm the epitome of a shit human because I want the attention. I want the glory. I fucking hate people who steal my spotlight and it's my god damn day for the spotlight.

So - I'm going to destroy it. Watch it burn. Watch it melt away, and lament after the fact that I never get the spotlight. That's what I do. That's what I've done. And I can't stop myself from doing it.

But I'm trying. I'm really fucking trying. Someone just knock me the fuck out and take me to tomorrow. At least I won't have to spend the day hating myself and hating the fact that I just want to kill the things I worked so hard to obtain.

[themaelstrommind]

March 20th, 2009

5am wake up. I roll out of the bottom bunk, throwing the spank tank curtain to the side. Couple of others wake up with me, but we have to keep quiet. Other guys are on different schedules due to mission timings and such. I quietly change out of my regulation PT gear and into my regulation uniform. No lights, just a headlamp with red lights. Don't want to wake others. Don't wanna draw attention from outsiders looking in. Such was the rules not spoken. Who would wanna be a target in a warzone?

I grab my battle rattle from the top bunk that protected me from possible mortar shrapnel as I slept. It was sitting next to my heavy ass duffel and A-bag that carries my chemical warfare gear. Just in case. I strap my leg holster to my right. M9 and M16 grabbed from the top bunk. M9 in holster. M16 to be slung over shoulder. I pick up my boots, upside down. Can't be too sure, so I shake them and bang them against my fist just in case the camel spider decided to do a sneak attack. Put on, strapped in, time to go.

The first smell of the morning Kirkuk air is filled with smoke from the burn pits. The open sewage that is on the other side of the mods and tents. It's early still, but just enough light to see where to go. You can hear the sounds of the mosques announce the day with the Fajr, the first of the Salah. We walk to the truck. It's time to head to The Swamp, HQ for Gator Sector.

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Morning brief. Intel reports. Supply convoy coming from Balad got tagged 2 hours prior. Troops in contact, no injuries. The boys were smart and saw the pressure plate wires in time. Another failed ambush. Convoy to Q-West today departing. Not me. Today, I work the Gator gate. I am not enthused.

I got an hour before changeover happens. Now's the time to run to get some food if ya want it. I wasn't hungry. I grab a black and mild from the last pack I had. I remind myself to buy more from Zo the next time he gets a package from his girl back home. One last begrudgingly bad gulp of dog shit coffee. One flick from the lighter to start the cigar. I jump onto the hood of the nearby Humvee and watch the sky wake up as I press play on my iPod. Coheed and Cambria's "In Keeping Secret Of Silent Earth: 3" - the first song that bears the album's name.

This was tradition now. This is what I did to get my head right. This is what I did 6,500 miles from home, where no one likes you. You are a target. You are at war.

The victim to our fathers' lost war...

Why am I even here, man? First, it was getting mission qual'd. Then SERE. Now here. Like, I know I was the dumbfuck that signed, but...still. Why am I here?

The restless children sit and mourn the graves of those they've never seen before...

I hope nothing happens today. Not today. Of all days. Bravo sector got lit the fuck up yesterday. Which they never get lit the fuck up. It's usually Gator. This is strange. This isn't typical TTPs for them. Something is amiss.

Will they be buried here, among the dead?

In the silent secret?

Fuck, I'm gonna think about this all god damn day until I figure it out. Was it mere coincidence? Maybe. But my fuckery sense is tingling. They don't shit where they eat. They aren't that dumb. I bet you they're trying to bring in someone through Gator. Which means overwatch. I'll need to take a look at recent new entries and coordinate with L3. Something seems off.

The pioneers - In dealing with if they march for dawn...Of will and worthy...

The boys are back from chow. It's time to load up and drive off. 12 hours of fantastic surprises await. 12 hours in the crosshairs. Happy birthday, Stephan. 24 years might just be my high score. We'll see what happens.

Man your own jackhammer!

Man your battle stations!

We'll have you dead pretty soon...

[themaelstrommind]

My name is Stephan Brown.

I should be dead right now.

No, this isn't a sign of depression, some quasi relatable throwback to my emo days as a teenager, or any other bullshit like that. I should have died numerous times already.

Yet, here I am. Why?

I ask myself this at least once a day. Why? Why am I cursed with continuing this existence that will only lead to more speculation, more regret, and more destruction?

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For over 10 years now, I've been trying to come to terms with my brain and how it's no longer the same brain that I used to have. I have taken a side seat expedition in jumping from unsteady foundations and putting trust in others only to sabotage myself at every turn. Why?

For over 10 years now, I have tried to seek some fleeting sense of familiarity to what I used to have when I was a young kid - a loving family. A family worth fighting for. The moment I get even close to some sense of that, I will destroy it for no other reason but to watch the flames. Why?

This is madness. Plain and simple. No one in their right mind would destroy personal happiness. No one would build their nest just to firebomb it to oblivion.

I am, for all intents and purposes, a horrible human being. I have lived through hell, and I bring it wherever I go. The circles I am in now are microscopic in comparison to what they used to be. What once was, is now smoldering ash. I sat here and watched it be reduced to what it is now with not so much but a shrug and a grin.

Why?

I used to champion it. Kept telling myself no, it is on them. I am the one burdened with a higher purpose in this life. I am correct. It is them who kept stabbing my back. It is them that made me bitter. It is you, dear reader. You are to blame. I kept telling myself it is your fault.

And then the proverbial storm subsides for a second. There is clarity. I am in the eye of the hurricane and those baby blue skies smile back at me for a brief moment. Only for a moment. The winds kick back up. The storm continues. Relentlessly. Aggressively. Telling me that I should have died numerous times already. Telling me that I am the one who is the victim here. I quietly get forced back into the passenger seat. The self sabotage picks back up. I'm only one wrong stimuli away from destroying something else in the name of self-preservation.

Why?

I should be dead right now. Fingers crossed. I hope I'm hatefully remembered. At least then I won't be forgotten completely.