…And Then While I’m Away, I’ll Write Home Every Day, And I’ll Send All My Lovin’ To You…

Dear All, (Mom, Frank< Emma, Britt, Nick, and Heidi)
Today it was confirmed that we will start real boot camp on Friday. it was so re-energizing. I was like I had forgotten why I did this until then. The sergeants started to tighten things up discipline-wise, and we got “smoked” three times today! I was thrilled! People probably think I’m stupid or something but I laugh and smile through those crazy exercises. Plus every night I get people to do PT in the barracks. Last night me and my buddy Scott and Stephen had a push-up marathon. Tonight I did 100 sit-ups in a row.
Today was pretty easy. Best of all, they decided to let us make pay phone cards if we had pay phone cards. I called Britt. I had been thinking about my sisters all day. I hope Emma is still doing good. Emma, get good grades and don’t break too many hearts. I’ll see you soon for Christmas. All of us look forward to two things: Christmas Exodus (Dec. 18th). And being able to receive mail. This will probably be the last letter I send before we get down there.
I miss everyone so much. This has been really hard. But I can’t wait to see letters from all of you. I have already sent out a few letters but Britt says she hasn’t seen any so I would assume they are slow sending them out. Obviously until I get letters back from different addresses I am sending them all to the only address I know by heart. Please make sure Heidi stops by at some point and gets hers. I write her a lot because I think about her so much. I have noticed that different things trigger me missing different people. When they gave us Swine Flu vaccination, basically they put a curly tail on us and a fake snout and tell us to snort, I got sick that night. Like really bad fever and I missed mom. My missing Britt comes in waves. I just want to hang out and tell stories about this place. I often get this feeling at the end of the night that I should help Emma with her Homework!

(There is a time lapse here…)

This is now day three in basic training…I put down this letter, I don’t know, a week ago and thought about it ever since. I miss you guys so much. Basic is so hard…physically, mentally and above all emotionally. I mean, it’s been two weeks and all the contact I have had has been short minute conversations. I can’t wait for letters from you guys.

Love,
PV2 Chandler

I’m Gonna Wrap Myself In Paper, I’m Gonna Dab Myself With Glue, Stick Some Stamps On Top of My head, I’m Gonna Mail Myself To You…

Here’s Nick’s Address so you can send him all the love and support you can before your hand cramps.

 

PV2 Chandler Nick
1st Platoon RN 124
Fox Co. 2-54 IN
8775 Albanse
Ft. Benning, GA
31905

 

Thank you everyone for your support. =D
<3

…If I Get It All Down On Paper It’s No Longer Inside of Me, Threatening the Life It Belongs To…

Here they are. First Letters from Soldier Boy:

Dear All, (to include Mom, Frank, Emma, Britt, Nick, Weston, Declan and Heidi)
I am sacrificing a lot of personal hygiene to write this but I think that it is totally worth it. So when we got here it started off much like I expected. We were met off the bus by drill sergeants. Yelled at, briefed, and stripped of all personal liberties, the worst of which being sleep. I never knew how bad that could be. We just get herded around all day for what is called processing. Really just giving the Army our full lives in exchange for clothes that are generally uncomfortable and to my surprise tanny tighty briefies. (Heidi can translate). Shit is so crazy. Sorry if my letters are unorganized. I seriously can’t think straight. We slept an interrupted 4 hours of sleep in Army bunks straight out of a Vietnam war movie. I am top bunk I like it. Bird’s eye view and a six-foot drop. This place is nothing like I would have expected. It’s so hard and it’s only the reception part. Guys I came with that seemed so pumped are looking very hard for ways out. I kid you not we had someone go AWOL last night. (Tried to run away)…like ran.
I know I can make it but I tear up whenever I think of your guys. Especially Heidi. I miss Heidi more than I thought
I could. She is in my thoughts so often I can’t even describe it.  Britt I think about whenever I see people doing interesting social things. Nick I think about whenever I see guys doing PT, which we have done zero of today or any of the other days I have been here. I am pretty sure it’s Friday, but I honestly don’t know. Oh, and tell Britt I had
zero cavities. So I win.
This is the first night I have had any free time since we got here. Today they gave us what is called the Peanut Butter Shot. It’s a shot in the butt that feels like they implant 10 oz of peanut butter in your cheek! We are all rubbing our butts. Hold on…I’m gonna go brush teeth and wash my bald head. Then I’ll start a new page.

(I LOVE MY HEIDI PIE)
Omg…I came back and guys are sharing poetry. This place is so crazy (just the way it swings from tough to so funny to so emotional). The chow isn’t too bad. We go in there and it is the most strict ‘no talk don’t look around’ area.
Guys who recognize each other give just the faintest glances. I often dare to smile at Joe’s big ass when I see him. Just cause he looks like he hates it. We pile on whatever we want and then they put two cups on our plates. Clear drank and red drank. They say red drank keeps us from becoming erection the morning. Just to save the embarrassment. But I think it just might be powerade. (Seriously thought it was the first word ever said to me in the chow hall). “Hey man…pst!” Me all wide-eyed. “Hey, man. Drink that stuff it’s good for not thinking dirty thoughts!” (I cleaned that up a lot.) I am going lights out in 5 minutes so I love you guys. Think of me. You can’t write me yet though. Not ’til I’m “down range”. Two weeks at most. Oh, and I have a good for next letter.
Love, PVT Chandler, your son, brother or Boyfriend.

***

Dear all, started probably at 6 a.m…

Today has been the easiest day yet. We woke up and hour later than usual which was 4 a.m. Everyone was up and on time and we got together and marched to chow. Oh, and last night I did my first fire watch. They woke me up at 1:00 a.m. to guard a door where we sleep. It was kinda crappy but I still got to sleep real well. All the extra sleep seems to help with everyone’s attitudes. I base this on the guys are lying up a storm about how tough they are and running around the bay…
Picked back up at about 8:30. This place seems to like to relax us and almost make us feel like we can handle this, make us feel good, confident, like we have a purpose here…and then immediately strips it away from us. I fucking hate this so far. I am still optimistic that things will be more fun once we get “down range”.
Today we were told we would get our cellphones for 10 mins. to make phone calls. I prayed so hard for me to be able to call one phone and talk to multiple people. I worked to my amazement. I guess I should feel guilty for not going to church now cause my prayers were answered. I called Heidi’s phone and she was with Britt and Nick. It was so emotional for me. It was my third time crying here, always cause an experience like this teaches you how much you value your loved ones. I don’t think I will be able to do more than my three years. Everyone at home seems well from what I hear and that makes me happy. I have made close friends so far. After crying on the phone I met Cross. Cross is my age but looks about 12 years old in stature. He is small! We talked about who we called. He called his wife. I told him I called my future wife and talked to my sister who I am extremely close with. My other closest friend is Scott. Scott is quite the character. He just doesn’t look like he belongs and he freaked out on day one and was trying to find a way out. Which to my surprise is impossible. There is no quitting. Trust me, half the guys would quit given the opportunity. Scott told mr the reason he didn’t want to be most of all was because he missed
his girlfriend. It’s a fairly young relationship but he (wow, all the guys just admitted to getting choked up writing letters.

Picked back up Sunday morning…8 a.m.
To go along with all the swings in my emotions today is just awesome. I hope all Sundays are like this. First off, it was daylight savings so most of us got an extra hour of sleep. I actually didn’t cause I volunteered  for an extra fire watch shift. They always ask me, probably cause I wake up so easily. It’s weird how you can adapt to strange things like guys you don’t know coming up to your face, asking, “Are you Chandler?”
We learned how to make a bunk yesterday so now some guys are getting more shit from drill sergeants. Honestly, I have not been yelled at or corrected by a drill sergeant yet.
I woke up today and Scott told me something I found to be a milestone for us both. He said today was the first day
he woke up and didn’t feel like that “Where am I” feel. And he is right. Much like we predicted, we feel better now that we have some amount of routine.
Me and Scott are getting to be good buds. Everywhere we go on base we are supposed to have a “battle buddy”. Nobody does anything alone. Including taking a poop, which there has been a limited amount of: two reasons, actually. One, there is an extremely limited amount of toilet paper, and two, we all think there is something in the food.
Scott makes fun of me for writing so much about what I’m doing, but i like the idea that when you guys imagine what I’m doing, you’ll be here with me. Plus, it just makes me feel human to write about this, put into perspective.
Although so far it’s far from story worthy.
I got my full uniform, all except my boots. My group looks retarded cause we wear “ACUs” (Uniforms) with running shoes. Most of the time we wear ACUs now but occasionally and always when we sleep we wear the “PT Uniform”, shorts and a T-shirt. Oh, and no matter where we go or what we are doing, we wear a camel pack. A bag always
full of water. It is the closest thing to PT we get. Standing for hours ar a time and carrying those.

I am Nick’s restless girlfriend.

There isn’t much I can say at this point, because I won’t speak for Nick, but I am here to announce that shortly, there will be letters.

I am Nick’s screaming, aching legs.

I am Nick’s cold sweat.

I am Nick’s sense of pride and accomplishment.

Come here if you want to know how he’s doing. What he’s doing. When he’s coming home, and what he’s thinking when thinking is all he can do that is his own.

=]

why I don’t post more: by giggles the druglord.

remember always.

this is not a blog.

it is a writing outlet for me that I use a blog site to post on.

I don’t write more because I don’t have to write.

see writing for me is like a bowel movement (stolen from a Chuck Palahniuk metaphor).

I write when I have something to write. shit or get off the pot. If I don’t have to write, its like I don’t have to poop.

sometimes I get faked out and sit down and let go a giant fart, but I don’t flush, and you don’t see it.

like a good poop, I always look back a few times to admire my work. and like a potty training kid, I am oh so proud of what I have produced.

I appreciate those of you who still come and look, and I encourage you to go back and look at old work, comment, criticize, it inspires me.

thank you,

Giggles the drug lord

favorite love poem creation

I’m madly intertwined in your intentions

as you are with mine

and I think, with a touch of whim,

they call this love…

my favorite Beat poem creation.

by and by, we’re contact high

ridding the wave of the

collective cry.

everything melds but nothing touches.

Nothing separate but intentions

clutches.

Let your brain be the reducing factor,

perception is free and your the

actor.

No solo judgments tonight,

the struggle is over,

its a collective fight.

a mindless poem. like a beat-poet would only like. cause its a mindless day.

My face itches like the wick of a candle

Purposeless I float,

looming like a fear of glimpsing art.

I, a sphere of understanding, no longer desire truth. But love.

No longer in need to be a sphere

I’ll be a pumpkin.

Free to be, now I know

Purposely

That I’ll be me.

It’s mindless.

stream of consciousness

Sometimes the right thought just finds its way into internal dialogue, an intruding truth,

about yourself or to your understanding.

Flashes of enlightenment one would only expect to find through study or meditation.

I was putting on my shirt—feeling out its fit. Looking for pants and my internal monologue just flowing right along. Imagined conversations or replayed memories. And “I think I’m peaking.”

I might have been thinking about the nature of my age. Feeling what I have felt lately about years gone creeping by and by.

I never let those thoughts go. Those intruding thoughts, I treat each one like a new born child.

I cradle them in wispy thought. It makes me chuckle from deep in side my ribs and leaves me with that feeling of muscle fatigue and deep sleep. It’s restful.

Sneaking thoughts are my equanimity. They are as close to spirituality as I might acknowledge.

to me, to you, to be with you.

Oh How I wish, just one more kiss…

To stay forever,

to be more clever…

To find new words,

to fly with birds…

To know we flew,

To be with you, forever.