Elvis Has Left the Building

Days to go: zero (just a wake up)

We fucking made it. The contract is done. Time to go home. We’ve been a combination of exhausted and excited all day. We had a bunch of work to do but hammered it all out and still had time to mail our guitars home. God damn, what is home anyway, I only have a truck and a storage unit to go back to. Maybe sleep on my mom’s couch for a while. Noah has about the same. We had a long talk in the chow hall after it emptied out and closed down with a good buddy over here nicknamed White Boy. We all shared a bunch of hardships that we’ve had to overcome with work recently, close calls, near misses, and fuck ups. We all concluded that we are working on borrowed time in this fucking country. None of us has been seriously fucked up or mamed in any way (knock on wood) and we all know it’s time to move on to something else. What that will be, who fucking knows, so in the mean time we planned out a month long motorcycle trip all over europe.

Closing up all our business here means turning weapons back into the armory and returning morphene to the medics. Along the way we aquired a fistful of valium and ambien to make our still frustration soaked journed back home a little easier. We got the info on some good places to check out in Amman when we spend the night there tomorrow, I looked up a few buddies contact info so that we are guaranteed at least a good hangover. This will be only a minor pleasure though because what we are really looking forward to is waking up in california at 11AM and reaching right for an frosty bud ice and a leftover corn-dog to start the day off right. And then who knows. Maybe that’s why we like this kind of work so much because it gives us a chance to breathe. Gives us time to try and make sense of the world and our place in it. Like Noah and I talked about the other day, we feel like we’re fighting through clouds in this fucking life. Like we were just dumped off with no help or plan or information and can only see what’s right in front of our faces and the unknown is swirling all around us and pressing in. Smothering us. We try to fight towards what seem like reasonable goals, we’ve both already accomplished so much, but we still are totally fucked. No posessions, no career, just rocketing through life on full throttle because we know what happens at the other end of the tunnel. So without getting to wild eyed in this rant I’ll leave it off right here. Can’t wait to get home, god fucking damn, can’t wait to start living again.

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