Look at the whales, Kel!
I’ve never kept a journal before. Never saw any need to. It’s always seemed backwards to me. If you don’t want someone else to find something out, then don’t write it down. Simple as that. But, right now, I need to write and get some things out.
Alright. I admit it. I’m not a social person. I’ve never been overly social on the basis that idiots annoy me and nature has been bountiful where idiots are concerned. Coming home was a huge relief. Hell, even the discharge wasn’t that bad. A lot of the boys are going back for more duty and it’s a relief to be out of that for good. I get letters sometimes and I keep up with Winter Soldier. It’s nice to know how the guys are doing, back in Iraq. Anyway, now that I’m back home, I’ve been avoiding people. All they want to talk about is the war and I’ve had enough of that s**t. But dear Mom and Dad decided, ‘Oh, my! Kelvin must be having psychological issues! Quick, get him into the minivan so we can leave him at the nearest gay nightclub!’
Mine must be the only parents in the universe who actually want their son to get a boyfriend.
I thought this trip would be nice and out of the way and, most importantly, miles away from people. But nooo! Apparently, when my parents say ‘whale-watching’, they mean shoved into a boat with about thirty other people, all of whom have the social tact of duckweed. I do too, but at least I hide it by avoiding people.
And that’s when things got really runny… this damn whale kept knocking the boat. Maybe it was blind or rabid or something, but Josephine fell in. I did the only thing I could and jumped in after her. And the whale swallowed us. Not really, but… it kept us in its mouth. I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of the stink of rotten krill. Josephine and I are alone now, on some sort of island.
It’s unreal. This sort of thing doesn’t happen in reality, but it clearly has. I don’t know what to do. Back in Iraq, things were simple. If you don’t know someone, then they’re probably trying to kill you, so stay away. But here… if I was dumped in a desert, I’d know just what to do, but this is an island. On the bright side, it seems to be abandoned.
All I have to do is keep me and Josephine alive until help comes. Until then, I’ll enjoy the solitude.
I’ve never kept a journal before. Never saw any need to. It’s always seemed backwards to me. If you don’t want someone else to find something out, then don’t write it down. Simple as that. But, right now, I need to write and get some things out.
Alright. I admit it. I’m not a social person. I’ve never been overly social on the basis that idiots annoy me and nature has been bountiful where idiots are concerned. Coming home was a huge relief. Hell, even the discharge wasn’t that bad. A lot of the boys are going back for more duty and it’s a relief to be out of that for good. I get letters sometimes and I keep up with Winter Soldier. It’s nice to know how the guys are doing, back in Iraq. Anyway, now that I’m back home, I’ve been avoiding people. All they want to talk about is the war and I’ve had enough of that s**t. But dear Mom and Dad decided, ‘Oh, my! Kelvin must be having psychological issues! Quick, get him into the minivan so we can leave him at the nearest gay nightclub!’
Mine must be the only parents in the universe who actually want their son to get a boyfriend.
I thought this trip would be nice and out of the way and, most importantly, miles away from people. But nooo! Apparently, when my parents say ‘whale-watching’, they mean shoved into a boat with about thirty other people, all of whom have the social tact of duckweed. I do too, but at least I hide it by avoiding people.
And that’s when things got really runny… this damn whale kept knocking the boat. Maybe it was blind or rabid or something, but Josephine fell in. I did the only thing I could and jumped in after her. And the whale swallowed us. Not really, but… it kept us in its mouth. I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of the stink of rotten krill. Josephine and I are alone now, on some sort of island.
It’s unreal. This sort of thing doesn’t happen in reality, but it clearly has. I don’t know what to do. Back in Iraq, things were simple. If you don’t know someone, then they’re probably trying to kill you, so stay away. But here… if I was dumped in a desert, I’d know just what to do, but this is an island. On the bright side, it seems to be abandoned.
All I have to do is keep me and Josephine alive until help comes. Until then, I’ll enjoy the solitude.
