There Is A Sharp Distinction Between What

The Male Role Models I Had All Seemed To Have Been In The Military. My Father Served In The Army. My Uncle Was In The Marine Corps. Both Of My Grandfathers Served In Wwii. There Weren't Any Career Soldiers In My Family, But When I Was Young It Seemed Like A Way Of Arriving At Adulthood.

All Choices Are Illusions, Or If They Are Not Illusions Their Strength Is Illusory, For One Choice Must Contend With The Choices Of All The Other Men And Women Deciding Anything In That Moment.

You Want To Fall, That's All. You Think It Can't Go On Like That. It's As If Your Life Is A Perch On The Edge Of A Cliff And Going Forward Seems Impossible, Not For A Lack Of Will, But A Lack Of Space. The Possibility Of Another Day Stands In Defiance Of The Laws Of Physics. And You Can't Go Back. So You Want To Fall, Let Go, Give Up, But You Can't. And Every Breath You Take Reminds You Of That Fact. So It Goes.

I Think A Lot Of The Guys I Know And A Lot Of People I've Talked To, What They Want Is Very Often What Most People Want, A Kind Of Simple Life, A Livelihood, A Family, People Who Care About Them, People They Can Care About. I Think Vets On The Whole Want The Same Things That Everybody Else Does.

There's Something Immediate About The Experience Of Reading A Poem. It Makes Sense In My Own Mind, But I'm Trying To Figure Out A Way To Articulate It... It's Like Looking At A Painting: You're Able To Take In The Totality Of The Work All At Once, And So Processing Whatever Information That Painting Is Giving You Is Almost Secondary To Simply Apprehending What's In Front Of You.