so I made it home.  Iraq was an adventure, and now I'm ready for a quest.

the end.

It's so hard to keep up the facade that everything is cool here, there's no internal trauma, peaches and ice cream shit.

But if it's not done everyone needlessly worries back home. Because let's face it, I'm here and they're there. I've told a few a little, but we're keeping most of the stuff we're seeing close to our chests. This is the untold struggle of a soldier, and they'll never know. Probably for the better.

On a more positive note, if I make it back alive, I've come up with an idea for a business/company that has the potential of being extremely lucrative, financially and philosophically speaking.

The number one demand, almost universally spread across the human species, is the pursuit and capture of happiness. We seek it through love, friendship, possessions, therapy, altruism, religion and spirituality, travel, alcohol and drugs, pets, music, and so much more. To varying degrees of success.

What if there was a place one could go to that could potentially be a one stop shop where many of the methods are available in one place, and one could be guided in ways to find, maintain, and appreciate happiness?

And so the idea of Agony, Unlimited, is born. Imagine a corporate consortium, where, in the event of a blue day, week, month, year, or life, you could go to for help. There would be licensed psychologists, psychiatrists, philosophers, existentialists, dating coaches, exercise instructors and therapists, counselors, life coaches and planners, religious teachers, and other helpers on call. They would be called, collectively, Agonists, and their aim would be eliminating your agony, whatever form it takes.

Reading an ad, you decide on a whim to see what all the hoopla is about. Upon entering the facility, you'd be greeted by a charismatic, friendly, and helpful receptionist. He or she would sit you down and do a preliminary investigation of your ailments, and help you decide where you'd like begin. The receptionist would then take the accumulated data, and relay it to the Arbiters, who would decide which type of counselor would best be of service to you.

Then at your next appointment, you'd meet your Agonist, and begin the next step in the first day of the rest of your life.


After I finally achieve my doctorate, I'll have made sufficient contacts in the mental health field to be able to set up consultants in that area. I know several distinguished philosophers already. Finding other people who could fulfill the roles of religious and spiritual Agonists, physical (exercise and sports) Agonists, Arbiters, qualified receptionists, and image and marketing consultants for the business would be no more difficult than that of any business.

This endeavor is obviously one that will require massive investments in the areas of time, designing, personnel searches, advertising, and consultation organizing, but I think it could really take off if everything was carefully managed.

I can't wait to get started.

Only two times in my life has anything ever happened that I couldn't explain. The first was last year, shortly after Katie and I broke up. I was feeling pretty down.. okay, horrible, about how everything had turned out. Hurting pretty bad, and nothing seemed to make it better. I tried friends, booze, books, meditating, slothful sleeping.. and nothing helped. There was just a big, gaping wound that didn't seem inclined to go away. Time, as always, made things better, but didn't seem inclined at the time to pass in any way but slothful.

One night around midnight, out of desperation, I looked up at the ceiling and said, sarcastically, "If you're really up there, or within me, or whatever, do something to help me for once, and just let me know that someone cares."

Not even five minutes passed before my brother James called me, and said, around a mouthful of cereal: "what's up bro? I had this feeling like you needed to talk, so here I am."

No shit.

Keep in mind, he's in Germany, there's a massive time difference, and he usually doesn't ever call at night since I'm asleep and he's at work. But he did. And we talked, and I felt much, much better about everything, and this particular night eventually led to me subsequently begin moving in positive directions again.

Earlier today, my platoon was on yet another patrol, and having some comm issues, halted movement to fix them. Random stuff. We spent some time working on it and finally fixed it enough to charlie mike. So the mission continued. We hadn't even gone 50 feet before an efp went off on our right, slicing through the traffic at head level, ripping through two vans, and impacting the wall on the other side of the highway. And I was driving the lead guntruck at the time.

We cordoned the area off, and began checking for secondary devices. Finding none, we gave the wounded Iraqi's medical aid, and held the position 'til reinforcements arrived. Then we continued on mission. And soon after, the comms in both of the vehicles with problems returned to full working order. I don't know if they'd kept fiddling with them and got them working or what.

I guess someone in my platoon just used up all their good karma.

This deployment has been pretty good so far, aside from the attacks we've come under the past few weeks, and everyone is mostly all in good spirits. My loves are doing pretty good during my continued absence, and recently I've had the privilege to add another lovely member to their numbers. Fianna's positively scintillating, and scarcely a day goes by that I don't learn something new about her more captivating than the last.

So far, so good, but I'm still thousands of miles away from everyone I love, and things are getting confusing. I hope time is swift in it's passing.