So we're sending ships towards the Korean Peninsula. Cool.
I crank Frank Turner on the boat and pretend the world isn't a lit powder keg.
But then I meet these young Airmen and Marines out on the boat and wonder, if we do end up kick off another war, will I ever see you again?
There was a couple stationed in Tennessee yesterday visiting. They had their little girl and a the Marine's mom with them. They were the sweetest family.
I wondered if the little girl would get to grow up with her dad and, even if she did, would he be whole. I wondered if a mother would have to bury her son, a wife her husband.
We romanticize these images of coffins with flags draped over them, but we rarely ever talk about whether or not the person in the coffin had to die at all.
Was the cause worthy of their lives?
Some bloated man's ego is not a deserving of that kind of sacrifice.
I can't crank Frank loud enough to drown out the noise in my head on my way back to the marina.
The fucking boat is supposed to be an escape, goddammit.
Maybe today I'll try The Attack.
Or maybe these guys. They suck.