hello world

"Infantryman to a changing diaper mommy"

life works in mysterious ways that seem to meet me quit frequently. Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine been the stereo-typical stay at home mom. What the fuck? I have a penis and I'm a mom.

Yep, as we speak I am a stay at home mom. Roots coming from a good kid in the beginning then graduating to a stoner with a G.E.D. My four year college degree was from the Army. Graduation was held in Mosul, Iraq for a year. Twelve received their diplomas posthumously.

Maybe one should plan their lives accordingly, but if one does that then they are going to missed out on what life has to offer for the unexpected. Take my case, after been fired from my job I discovered the best job on earth. Taking care of my daughters. Not just from a dad's point of view, but rather from a mom's point of view now. I'm honored to be experiencing it, yet I know the day will come when my kids won't need their mommy. That's not a very pleasant feeling.

My life hasn't been really planned out, just moments of life that have shape the man I am.
Infantry man to a diaper changing mommy.

Make sure that my adorable Makayla wakes up on time on a school day. I know she's clever and knows that I don't need to turn the water on for her or carry her from the bed to the bathroom, but I'm capable and willing to do that for her. I seek and find the little things that will Makayla know the undying love I have for her.

Out on the balcony on the third floor, lets me watch her from a short distance. I like to think that I'm on guard duty. As always guard duty blows, but it must be done. One never knows of the shit that might happen. Daddy can make it in five seconds or less to bus stop if need be. Down below on the bus stop, she gets to act like a regular first grader. One down, one more to go, back to bed for mom. Time is 7:30am.

I swear Miraya got a internal alarm clock. Not really fully asleep, I can hear her come into my room. It's not because I got killer hearing far from that, it's because her bunny gives her away. Cute little stuff white beat up bunny that rattles, that bunny is her blankly. Sometimes I think she shakes her bunny nice and loud for me to hear her. Miraya is greeted with a "morning baby, I love you" and I get in return a "moning daddy" I could not ask for a better wake up. Get my ass out of bed now. Time is 8:03am.

Throughout the day I see Miraya learn about life. By watching her favorite shows or just having a moment with me. We bond through the day, just by doing silly things. Reading a Dora book, but no need to really read it. Instead I talk about the scene on the pages. I do this because I want her to see what the characters looks like, and ask what colors she sees. I try to keep it as close to the story line that my imagination allows me. We might read the same book 10 times and every time it's different from the last. The only things that don't change on the book are the pink diamond, white bunny, black penguins, gray kitty, snow butterflies, frozen lake. Ice skating and finally dancing.

Time 2:50 pm. Time for mom and Miraya to get to the bus stop. Miraya gets excited about meeting her big sister at the bus stop. She greets her with a big hug as Makayla makes it out of the bus. I stand back and watch. Life is good to me. Here she comes, a full discharge of energy coming my way. Makayla moves Miraya after her hug and she charges full speed ahead, ready or not she's jumping on me for a hug.

I am the mom of the family now, and what do moms do? They join the P.T.A, and so will I.

" A blackberry moment"

Instead of listening to the wonderful sounds of nature one gets to experienced, I'm listening to the sounds of modern day life. Sitting outside my balcony, the soundtrack of nature is not there, just the sounds of machines going about one's business. The trees with its fall leaves don't scape my view, they are surrounded by concrete. I'm sure one has called it a "concrete jungle" in the past, I can agree with that statement.


The rain hitting the metal rail that entrap the balcony, instead of the fallen leaves, that have seem to covered the way of one's life, instead of covering the ground one has walked in the past. Having the pleasure to experienced all kinds of weather that have blown through my way of life. The back woods of Ft. Lewis, with it's damp, cold to the bone days that never seemed to go away from one's soul. It wasn't the back woods I grew in, that title goes to the tourism and travel slogan of the commonwealth of "Virginia is for lovers." "Thus Always to Tyrants," is what is in my pedigree. Left my footprints on two middle eastern countries. One a combat zone and the other classified as non-combat zone. Was there really a difference? It wasn't home.


Now, the moment is gone. State of mind still holding, time to read "a farewell to arms"

Comcast sucks

The virus was the easiest thing to fix but Comcast took two weeks and some change to fix the wireless connection.

I'm back to writing, no more handicaps for this writer.

"A reach from a stranger"

That's how I came to know Manasas, she chose me to be her knight in shinny armor for that summer night. As the soon to be prince making my way out of the dance floor empty handed and with a taste of defeat that would not leave my mind. Going home lady less, can't win them all.

A sense of living, that's how I felt her hand. With in seconds of her grabbing my hand, I looked at her face and noticed her short black hair and brown eyes that told me not to let go. Then she utter from her mouth "take me with you" Not missing a beat her wish was my command. It all happened so fast that the manlike creature that held her chose not to pursue the prince and the princess, a victorious farewell.

Collected our debts and found ourselves in the parking lot. Now we were able to come to terms as to what just happened on the dance floor. The evening was a pleasant midsummer night, light breeze and soothing temperature made nightfall charged the air with amour and it entered our lungs. Words came next.

"Are you OK?" I made sure to say it with a calm voice. "Yes, thank you." Manassas, answered while staring at my eyes. Without saying a word she hugged me like a warm blanket on a winter night. With that lovely hug I felt her gracious bosom. Desire took over my hands and our enduring hug must have lasted all night long, but in reality we both knew that passion had a good gripped on us.

The conclusion was to reveal our alias to one another. I wish their was more to say about that night with Manassas but it just ended with a gentle kiss from her luscious lips.

Was I telling one a story or a memory of my past? Sounds like a fairy tale one reads from a two dollar magazine. It could be that a gentleman keeps one's morals in line. I will never tell.

blackberry update

Got time to kill at the doctor's office, I'm here for my daughter's appointment.
Computer still down, now the internet is down. Comcast sucks. They have been to my nice ghetto apartment twice and have come up with two different solutions that did not accomplished anything other than to assure me they got people working with no actual knowledge of one's job.

Back to the doctor's office, still fucking waiting. Plus, kids getting on my nerves. The price of been a father sometimes sucks, hallmark hasn't come up with a card to ease my pissed off attitude.

comp issues

I hate computer viruses, this is why my writing has not been read.
I would like to thank the creators of the blackberry. Small ass key pad for writing a blog. Feels good to get something out at least, but typing with one finger is not fun.

Don't think my mind is empty, it's just handicapped because some dumb ass likes to fuck with other people computers.

Boy, it feels good to write. I'll try my new challenge.

Update

Just to let one know that I been busy, lazy and can't seem to finish my blogs.
I have several that I'm working on. Don't worry, one will hear the voices in my head and I'll put them down on paper.

"Text to think about"

After creating my blog I emailed my mentor. I wanted to let her know what I started. Once, I let the cat out of the bag, I wanted to know one's reaction two seconds ago. I'm always curious about what one's answer will be like. Is this the first step of a writer? I wanted to know like a curious kid not as an adult. The anticipation was standing right next to me.

Finally, after getting the blog address right, he was able to read my blogs. I butchered my own introduction as a blogger. The first text, I realized that I wrote it incorrectly, forgot the f on after. On the second text I forgot the dot. But, the third was my awakening. I can say this with a smile on my face, I still haven't gotten my blog address down pat. As evidence been exposed to one's eyes.

" I got it now.... This is some deep shit.... Y do it?" that was his reply after the third text.
I felt the shock wave hit me hard, just like my first I.E.D. (Improvised, Explosive, Device)

I don't have a simple answer to that. A good bull shit answer is "it just came to me" but I don't have a bull shit answer, at least not this time. I know too well it's a rather complex answer to be answered now, only time will reveal the verdict. How about these for now: Life gives me pleasure to write about. Emotion has a voice in my writing. Experiences I had. I'm sure that their is more than that but I don't see them yet. Could this be my calling? I don't know, let me go answer the phone.


INSIDER INFORMATION - I made a rule about the blog, that I would be honest with my writing.

"Mirror"

In the army one tends to hide one's feelings. If shown then one seems weak. Was it worth it for for me? I don't know. This question will be answered throughout my life.

In the Army it seemed that they did not want me to be human. A soldier is what they demanded and wanted, not excuses. So, I became a soldier without really knowing the transformation happening within me. Wish I could have known about the transformation. I would have wanted more. Can't be explained, but one feels it inside. One is forever different. I am no longer Bosco, he's the saint that's keeping an eye out for me. Now, I am Jerez.

Can't really complaint because infantrymen don't complaint, but I know what I experienced. The good about life and the shit for the dead. "shit, why him?" then a moment of silence would blanket my mind. A sad voice inside my head answered, "shit, I don't know" The thoughts I had in war with a empty heart. On the other hand, The only loud voice the guys heard coming from me was "better him then me." But, that wasn't the full sentence I heard in my mind. "Better him then me, I'm still in fucking Mosul."

So, basically the time I have left on earth will lead to the full understanding of the soldier I was once. Back then one did not think of the future, sure they might have talked about it but one knew not to cry over spilled milk. Hope hurts, it can make one go crazy in war. It almost got me.

Born

I beleave that one's death and creation are already written. The problem is that everybody wants to know when they die. Don't live in fear, enjoy each day that is granted in one's life.

If I had the chance, I would pass on reading the last entry. Don't care about the day I die, it's already taken care of. Just going to enjoy life, a day, a moment.

I love you.

"Breaking the mold, not by choice"

I'm trying to remember when I broke the mold. I remembered been the "poster boy" for don't do drugs they are bad for you, speech. Would it be, when I used to smoke an oz. a week back in the good old days. How about dropping out of high school on my senior year, I just didn't buy the idea of one is nothing without one. Wait, I got a good one for you, it might be the time when I said........

" I, Bosco, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God." How about that, yep me "La serpiente emplumada."

That sounded good, right? The question that I'm curious about is when will I set the mold.


F.Y.I.

I came up with the idea while trying to decide what to write about. I started thinking of the person I am. A little bit of this, a little bit of that, and realized I broken alot of molds through out my short life. People have been surprised of the shit I done. So, I leave one with that.

If one ever done the oath then this will make one laught and bring good memories to one's soul.. .................http://usmilitary.about.com/od/militaryhumor/a/newoaths_2.htm

"Dead or Alive"

Oh, you black beauty, fine instrument of death. One gets to hold one and it speaks for one. Clean as life depends on it. Dead or alive, what is this one worth? The urge to kill wasn't necessarily there, but it was on one's hands.

Let this weapon speak. One has the power of life and death. One sees the future and it doesn't include one. One may not make it to the next day. What the fuck does one know? Dead or Alive.

No longer in one's hands but rather on one's mind now. No choice back then. That was how it was. The weapon was in charge. Now, the human subject is free to think and express one's self.

One actually survives this shit. Would one ever believe the shit one's been through? One was sure it was heard, but only the fellows of C.I.B. felt it.

Discovered a new person inside. Starting to realize the power one holds. One's training is the key to defeat life. The challenges ahead will be nothing compared to the war one has walked. No excuses, now the C.I.B's come to enjoy the hard earned struggles.

Price is steep, too many to count, take that comment and interpret as one wishes. What kind of an education will one get from it? Right or wrong one will decide to the everlasting day.

That was my price for the war.

Over the berm

I see it, it's just over the horizon. Can't really make it out just yet, but I have a good idea of what it is. I caught a glimpse.

This is wonderful. We have made a voice. A voice that is in every state of the union. A united America. Veteran's of W.W. II, gave us what is now the "American dream", but for a while that voice hasn't roam like the Buffalo of old.

We are the fresh breath of air this nation is going to get back into its lungs. From the little known towns of the mid west that pride themselves on been a good American. The all to common "closed doors" policy of the east coast, need not apply here. The spirit of adventure from the west cost has to be in all of us. All this creates what we have stride since 1776. Life, liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

Let not one divide us, instead we must unite to keep standing at our weakest hour. We all know to well what the past consist of. For this, I know is real and must continue. All I see are patriots. That's all I want to see.

"— And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor." Last sentence of The Declaration of Independence.

Thank you for reading Tom.

The "better him then me" was a self prescribed medication I injected into my veins. This shit is real now and its make or break (the war). I would not let my self show how scared I was. I didn't want the guys to think I was weak. They might have lost trust in me and back then it was not the time for that to happened. The thing I feared most was that I didn't want the guys to think they could not rely on me. If they thought that about me then might as well be dead to them. All we had was each other.

Tommy's funeral broke the damn wide open. I cried like a little lost girl as if I were looking for my mom at the mall. By the time the C.O.'s vehicle got hit, I had no more tears to give. In the parking lot of the hospital my attitude was "get over it guys, it's fucking war people die." I was done, no more sorrow left for my body to show. At that time it was the only thing that made sense to me.

My perspective back then still what I have now, but today they are thoughtful. We all had our own personal war back then, I'm talking about the enemy from within. I'm sorry if I offended the guys with that remark. It got me through the war.

One may not beleave it but my eyes weep quit easily now. I like to blame the allergies I have but I know the real truth behind the sadness.

Today's era of raising the flag on Iwo Jima.

This is not an easy subject to talk about. The fact remains that it must be talked about. I didn't have to take a picture of my dying comrades, I just happened to be there when Allah came calling. "Allahu akbar"

On the news not to long ago there was an article about the picture of a dying marine. It was published by the AP press. People were outrage that the photo was released and images of that nature should not be viewed by the public. The parents agreed with the people. Would one broadcast a dying marine in battle?

So, the portrait of the marines raising the flag on Iwo Jima be stopped as well? Half of them died with in days of the photograph.

I say publish it, one has to see and not read what war is about, what soldiers really fight for. No matter how much the world writes about war, one will never understand unless volunteering for it.

I see no difference on those two pictures, they represent what every soldier thinks when the enemy attacks them. Let me do my job right so my friends don't die. The same feelings one feels about the picture of the marines raising the flag on Mount Suribachi, they should feel the same way about the picture of Lance Cpl. Joshua M. Bernard, 21, of New Portland, Maine.

Yes, the figure of the dying marine is sad, it captured without saying what a dying face looks like. The effects of an R.P.G. on the body is quit devastating. I hated the sound when one was fired at us. To me it was the scariest sound on earth, it put a scared on my body that I could barely hide. I just knew it was coming and I could not do a damn thing about it. That sound still stays with me. Ruchnoi Protivotankovye Granatamyot, is a hand held anti tank grenade launcher.

The picture of the dying marine can be found at http://www.ap.org/fallen_marine/
I wanted to share this information because sometimes citizens tend to forget what heroes look like.

Just like that.

It's 12:43am. The day is now sunday September 6, 2009. I just got finished reading all the blogs that Jordan had written about his second tour in Iraq. Sadly, there was not that many to read. His tour started this past August and it ended on September 3, 2009. That's the day he died in a vehicle roll-over accident. I'm sure he's mad he died that way, because no proud infantryman wants to go out like that in war.

If one is offended by my opinion on how he died then one does not know the meaning of an INFANTRYMAN. If one understands what I meant by that statement, let's have a beer and talk shit for the rest of the night. Cause, those are the ones that understand. In war death can get one at any time and at any place. It doesn't care if one dyies saving one's buddy or just simply dying of human error. Death does not care, I can vouch for that because I was once an Infantryman. It just cares that it has done its job.

So, one is wondering why I'm writing about him well let me get to the point then. Since, leaving the army I still check strykernews.com for updates on what is going on with the strykers and if I lost a friend. Should I still be doing this? Probably not, I should move on with my life. It can't be healthy to one's soul living in the past. The past is what my future is based on now and forgetting the war I saw would not be fair to my fellow brothers still carrying the M-4.

Upon reading his blogs I feel that it's my turn to carry the torch. I have many reasons for doing this, but some I still haven't figured out yet. I know that they are there though. If one wants to honor him please read his blogs. http://throughamberlenses.blogspot.com/

My mind is open for business now.