the knowledge of death severed us from our youth, as irrevocably as a surgeon’s scissors had once severed us from the womb.
post #99.
the shelling is stronger than everything .. i merely crawl still farther under the coffin, it shall protect me, though death himself lies in it.
post #98.
i watched as we de-evolved into animals, and all this time there was a sinking feeling that we were changing from hunter to hunted.
post #97.
snapshots were the least of what they took after a fight, at least pictures didn’t rot.
post #96.
through the years our business has been killing - it was our first calling in life. our knowledge of life is limited to death.
post #95.
small addition: thoughts can be expressed at the bottom of new posts.
and they were killers .. it absorbed them, made them strong in the way victims are strong, filled them with the twin obsessions of death and peace ..
post #94.
one species of bird sounds exactly like incoming rocket-propelled grenades; the men call them “RPG birds” and can’t keep themselves from flinching whenever they hear them.
post #93.
once i met a colonel who had a plan to shorten the war by dropping piranha in the paddies of the north. he was talking fish but his dreamy eyes were full of mega-death.
post #92.
incipient saints and realized homicidals, unconscious lyric poets and mean dumb motherfuckers with their brains all down in their necks.
post #91.
she did not know if her gift had come from the lord of light or of darkness, and now, finally finding that she did not care which, she was overcome with an almost indescribable relief, as if a huge weight, long carried, had slipped from her shoulders.
post #90.