I roll myself out of bed to resume the debaucheries in my best effort not to feel like shit. Involving copious amounts of foreign substances that go in my body in some form or fashion. It's been months since I got home, and the two weeks that I promised myself I would drink to decompress has now become no less than six months.
The pit that I would have to climb into is just too deep and narrow to ever climb out of if I do, so I stand on the best version of myself stuck in that hole in order to survive on the lip of the edge and breathe the sweet air of relative happiness and freedom. It never lasts long, but it does as long as I stand on my tippy toes.
An NCO stops by and says.. goddamn private, sucks to be you.
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