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Deceitful EmotionThere are few matters in life in which I feel I cannot reach a satisfiable understanding of with-in several weeks.
Of course, here I am barring academia and the like...
No, I'm talking about matters of a far more practical level. Why do people say hello to each other? Why is there stigma? Why do people swear? Questions like these, I can usually answer, given enough time.
I guess why I ask these questions is because many actions don't seem natural too me. Maybe it's because I never really was all that great at adopting actions regardless of their nature. I don't know really. But them being answered seems to be integral to the continuation of my being content.
Yet a concept I do not understand, and fear I will never really will, is happiness. Cliche, I admit, but true.
I remember reading an article, a while back, about sports stars- American footballers, and their head injuries. It talked about the life expectancies and how, in general, being a sports star wasn't all that great. But it w
The Pseudo-Nihilist.Inevitably, I always come to the same conclusion; subjectivity.
I identify with the nihilist label, and have done for a while. I accept that good and bad are abstract concepts- intangible, not subject to empirical measurement, and subjective.
I don't subscribe to concepts such as real and fake- yet I can say I have felt the former statement to be real- true, for a while, several years infact. I feel after several years I should have came to terms with the rationale I've gone over so many times.
Yet I find this not to be the case.
I often will feel an uncontrollable sense of anger at injustices committed. If it's not anger it's depression. If it's not depression, it's disgust for my humanity and misanthropy to every other individual occupying this world.
I tell my self over and over in my head that there is no right, there is no wrong, there just is. But none of it registers.
It angers me that bigots have views that conflict with mine. It depresses me that people find the bigoted views
A Turning Point in the Clockwork WarA war of attrition
depends on supply and drawdown,
how much you have and how much you use up.
With personnel, the balance concerns
the influx of recruitment versus
the outflow of casualties, deserters, invalids.
There is only so much loss
that a fighting force can sustain
and still fight.
Pilot Claude Archer was the first
to challenge his invalid discharge.
"I don't need legs to fly," he said,
patting the healed stumps of his thighs.
"My Osprey runs on elbow grease."
The members of the discharge board
paused and looked at each other.
What he said was true.
The Osprey-class fighter jets
relied on hand controls,
and a sharp eye and iron nerve.
Fingers flicked through the stack
of discharge papers -- so many, many pages.
So many soldiers lost, never to fight again.
They could not afford to let slip even one
who might be retained, somehow,
to face the front line once more.
Far less could the war effort spare
one of its best pilots.
So they put Pilot Archer back on the roster,
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