Music is philosophy.

Music can really turn the tide of your emotional state of mind. If your sad, you can augment that feeling with any song that otherwise really touches your depressed side. The other way around, you may just put on ‘Hakuna Matata’ with Timon and Pumba from the Lion King and everything might feel quite good again. For me; It doesn’t really matter what mood I’m in post-listening. When the music starts and changes… My emotions starts to dance.

• Listening to melancholic music:

I woke up in the middle of the night, wet to the bones. The dream, affected by my body’s hightened temperature, was terrifying into the end. Betrayal, voices whispering, man-made cravings.. Destruction. Like emotional memories, it comes back to me.
I saw this coming. I share your dreams. How is it that we are intertwined but still so far apart from eachother?.. Or is it me? My dellusional selfishness that stands in the way – blocking the path like a proud and vicious lion. He gives promises of new perspectives of life and the glory that comes with it. He never mentioned you.
When he takes control, I can’t do anything but lean back and watch as my life unfolds infront of me in perculure ways.

• Listening to relaxed & meditative music:

In an instant, fear or anger is flushed out as contentment fills the cup of emotions. I no longer dwell in a realm of uncertainties and mixed emotions. I am one and I am in control of every choice I would choose to execute with absolute devotion.
Only one thing remains the same – I am one, but I am alone. Alone to ponder the questions the universe throws at the gates of my kingdom. Alone to fight against the dragons I so much admire and respect. Alone to face my true self. Alone with you.

• Listening to cosy & loving music:

One second passes and my mind gets filled with memories, feelings and smiles. An familiar warmth sneaks into my chest as I recall endless breakfast feasts and playful hide n´seek between sheets. I no longer linger in limbo. Feelings cloud my judgement but I don’t really care anymore. The only thing that I need is your loving smile, a confirmation that everything is as good as it can be. This is our world. Our time.
I picture myself as one of the most beautiful things – A loving father. Beside You. Nothing else matters. I put you and your needs before myself and nothing can hurt me. Because I love you, unconditionally, now and forever.

The might and power of feelings combined with music. A tool that people’s been using for ages in motivation for training, ceremonies, rituals and just for the fun of it. I can start my adrenaline with it, tears can be aquired and every sort of music is in the end, really f***** good. It’s quite magical if you give it a second thought. It also tells us how voulnerable we are to outer forces. How easy our minds and emotions are twisted and turned.

Dangerously lovely. A toast to music!

“The mind can go either direction under stress–toward positive or toward negative: on or off. Think of it as a spectrum whose extremes are unconsciousness at the negative end and hyperconsciousness at the positive end. The way the mind will lean under stress is strongly influenced by training.”

 - Jessica Atreides

A breaking of the sound barrier, a whistle through the air – right next to my head. After that came a deafening explosion, altough not anywhere near our location. Brothers screaming “TAKE COVER!” and “RPG!” simultaneously. We all took on the nearest cover. All our senses were brought to the highest alert, telling our bodies to kick-start the adrenaline rush for the sake of survival. All around me arrows fell, like death’s messengers, only to grin while they went passed our heads and bodies just to hit the wall behind us - a show of force, if anything. Then, our spirits caught fire and everything came into focus, and we answered the call by transforming ourselves into gods of war - unleashing furious waves of fire back at our advesaries location.

We tried to pin-point their location and concentrating fire without any real success. We had to gain the initiative.

 

I must admit it (without guilt or shame), the feeling was extraordinary. My belly was filled with a ball of calm that pulsated through my whole body. I looked at one comrade in cover and gave him a smile in the name of life. Everybody was more than alive and we were putting up a fight.

It comes a time when your get to a point of milliseconds, were you have to decide to act or react. I, as everybody else in my squad, took on the former. Acting on exactly what we’ve been trained for in years.

 

Anyhow, the initiative was not gained this time. Except for our sniper, most of our arrows never took ground beside the enemy. All the while, the mujaheddin started to aim even closer and better than initially, concentrating their hellfire with their PKM’s on our position - hammering our covers. We were pinned down. The order to fall back was screamed through our ranks, back into the nearby village and re-organize an attack on the “white hill” where we had spotted them. So we did. Falling back like we’ve done all years practicing on it. A well thrown smoke granade landed infront of our perimeter and gave us a smoke screen, and it began. Covering fire, holding brothers backs, running zic-zac and just doing it.

 

Hours later we came back, reinforced with attack helicopters and our numbers doubled. The insurgents fled and took a hiding in a mosque nearby. We took back ground, gaining initative and took control of the hill. Dark clouds drifted from the mountainhills in the east and Thor rode along with them, giving us spectacular scenes of lightning that danced in our winning favour. To Valhalla, my brothers..

Moments later, orders came to fall back to base. We knew we had them pinned down, but someone in the higher chain-of-command made a call.

In any case, the day ended well. Experience were drafted and none were wounded in the process. 

 

 

Why did I even bring this up? 

This is my version of the truth that you can read about here. This is one of the things I signed up for. One of the things that i’ve trained for. I’m not going to excuse myself for that. Someone could have died that day. That someone could have been me. A bullet entering the forehead and exiting the back of our neck in a bloody explosion - a hard truth of life.  

I’m not writing this so that I can gain some kind of respect or whatever. I’m writing this for my own sake, knowing that some people around me also tend to read my thoughts. I know many people tend to think the thoughts like – “Is he now damaged?”, “How could anyone put themselves in that position?” and/or “Is he really proud of trying to kill another human being in a seemingly pointless war?”.

No. I’m not proud of that.

I’m proud to say that I manage to do my work. My body listens to my will and I truly live life to it’s limits. That this work truthfully brings me closer to mankind. I’m proud of my brothers, whom stands with me in every possible weather or situation that comes before us.

In the end, i’m truthfully proud of you. Thank you for reading my thoughts.

 ´

Lance Corporal Fresh, at your service.

Me and my squad, having reached a mountaintop on a patrol in the Kunduz province.

 

 

Zippin’ on chamomile tea.. Contemplating life.

My shift starts within the hour and stretches itself through the whole dark night. I’ll go to sleep when the stars decides to vanish in favour of the next day. I’ve always liked the feeling of working on the night. Well, as long as you keep the all the senses active, it can really be a thrill. It always brings me back to night dives in my early diving career. Or scenes under the green nightsky, where the stars doubles in numbers, in the far beginning of my green service. Everyone of them is, in the end, romanticized and partially made up to glorify and activate some illuminate feeling of awesomeness in my life. Even though they’re all grounded and created through empiricism, they tend to maximize and gloat themselves in my mind – just to ensure myself i’m still on the way to some sort of self-made utopia.

I feel twitched. Or twisted maybe. Or maybe it’s just the stress that doing it.. In any case, it’s quite oblivious. Or tends to lean on that way. I  don’t always like it. More often though, I do not really care, and that frightens me more than anything else.

Do you trust yourself?

I really hope you do. There isn’t enough time for the contrary.

Days passes. Every single one different from the other. I’ve come to the conclusion that daily boredom is just another illusion. An unsolid projection that can easily be destroyed if one would want to. I overcome it by trying to ensure myself that all my daily actions or routines are different than the day before, and that the sum of it creates a whole new me in the end.

I took an unofficial vow to be completely honest to myself,  in my own way, on this site. Hence the following confession…

Some days ago, I experienced the feeling shame thorougly. I was out on a mission with my boys when it happend: I was lended one of my brothers knife, a battleknife of sorts, while I was cutting through small containers of illegal drugs. Not a moment later, my hand was red-wet with my own blood and I had red spots and dots all over my desert uniform since I automatically shaked my hand in a frenzy when I cut myself. The small, but deep, wound was taken good care of by myself and another fellow Combat Medic. Later I had to consult the field nurse. She gave me the order of doom – to head back into camp because of the infection risk out in the field. I was to leave my brothers in the desert sun for days…

They medivaced my ass from the field through use of the americans blackhawks. Usually a soldier from the air assault battalion, like me, would thrive in being transported with a helicopter. Not this time. In any case it all went more than well for me and my hand. But I tend to focus more on my emotional state. I wasn’t O.K. inside.. I was furious, shameful and almost heartbroken. Why? Because what if my friends encountered one of the fearful IED’s (Improvised Explosive Device) on the roads? What if they were stuck in a firefight with the mujahideen in my absence? What if they dug and found a long lost secret tomb in the ruins of a lone farmer out in the middle of nowhere?.. Whatever could happen, I didn’t want to miss the experience. I suffered in the absence of danger that my brothers exposed themselves in. Just because of my clumbsyness.

Sometimes I like to think that things are ment to be. That things happen for a reason. Be it an easy or hard lesson for ourselves or maybe just a calling for another turn in life. Initially, I was petrified by fear. Fear that I might miss something out. Fear that I would be one experience lesser than those around me. Fear of losing myself. When these feelings dominate my mind I go all Ally McBeal (the old tv-series) like on my mind – Imagining myself doing stuff that ain’t really logical or healthy. Often, I see myself taking my handgun to my mouth.. And blowing my head to oblivion over and over.. And over. It’s actually quite sick if I think back to it. But.. Don’t you do things like that when you “hate” yourself?

Altough as said, It all went well. As I foretold, I was later on nicknamed after the accident (as everybody is, if someone does something very clumbsy) and everybody on my squadron knew about it. But actually, everytime I laughed, talked and explained more about it, nothing really happend inside me. Shame left me and also my own hatred of myself. And even though my collegues experienced a IED blown of – the medics of my platoon had to take care of some wounded men and got that experience (I would have been there unless..), I really don’t care anymore. I had my own experience. Another experience. Life showed me another way that day. Thoughts I would never have encountered before has come to me just because of this “small” thing. This is my current illusion, at least.

“Suffering is a part of life“, I told myself.

And yes, I’ve overcome that fear now. Somewhere along life’s wonderous way I’ve managed to keep certain reminders of how life tends to unfolds before you. Reminders that serves as white blood cells when an infection (in this case, bad thoughts) comes to mind. It’s in no way perfected, but I helped me back on my feet and to regain my pride a lot faster this time. I have started to contemplate the Four Noble Truths and use Mind Reset on myself more recently. Even samurai meditation, as it has proven to help soldiers in all ages and eons, has it’s merits. It tends to give me a sense of contentment and peace (illusions?), in my otherwise stormfilled mind. I do feel strange while doing it sometimes. As very few of my fellow humans around me uses these techniques of old, I always think: “Is it only I that need this?” or “Am I just poking on the verge of insanity?” or maybe i’m just more of the hippie-like person to try these things..

I’m not really a samurai, even if I love the romantic history about them. I’m not really a buddhist, even if I get ecstatic in the mystery and philosophy it holds. I’m not at all a Jedi Knight, even though i’m positive my nerdy childhood fanatsies about them will always light up my mind… Whatever I am, I tend to be interested and read so much about these ways in my life so that some things, automatically, becomes a way of life. I openhearted welcome them into myself and what I truly am to this day.

Confession or not. This is the beauty of being human in my part of view.

Lance Corporal Fresh, signing out.

Back again, for the last time. I was home one second ago.  Now, I in my other home. The one I share with my brothers in arms.

Home is where you make it to be. For me, it’s the place I currently reside. Be it my rigthful birthplace, the apartment of my lovely woman, the lousy barrack in this camp or in the end, the tent with my backpack, in which I recharge my batteries to live and fight another day in this world.  Neither case is the better really. I may love the feeling of waking up beside her, in the bed of love that we share. I may also love the feeling of waking up all alone with no restrictions or regulations by my self. Lastly, I may also really love the feeling of waking up in the wilderness, just to breathe in the air of non-humans the first you do when you wake up.. Flawless.

In any case, we’re back. Back on track. At least in our minds we are. We mentally and physically prepare for the operations ahead which tend to lean onto weeks living outside the camp. We train on the shooting range, check our gears twice and wake up our sixth sense.

We fight, as always, against the demigods of weather and their likes. The one and only god of the sun, Ra, has entered  the fighting arena, bringing his whole arsenal of heat and sunshine towards me and my northern boys. But we know the drill. We got the tricks up our sleave. We will need to get accostumed once more and when we do; we will hack n’ slash n’ thrust our way into our enemies core if given the chance. This is our time. This is our job. This is my life.

Soon, I will be home again for the last time, this time. Gone from this land that symbolizes the war on terror that no western-born human ever can come to fully understand. Homecoming is drawing nearer every moment even if I was just there. It is right now that we can make things happen.

This is Lance Corporal Fresh. Signing In & Out.

 

“What do I care for your suffering? Pain, even agony, is no more than information before the senses, data fed to the computer of the mind. The lesson is simple: you have received the information, now act on it. Take control of the input and you shall become master of the output.”
- Chairman Sheng-ji Yang

I make a choice to write these lines, you make a choice to read them. Symbiosis?

Choices that we consider small and some that we consider big. What’s the difference between the big and the small choice anyway? What’s in-between them? Where is the medium sized choice? People tend to say that it’s the smaller, more frequent, choices that makes you into what you are – in the eyes of someone else, of course.

My choices elude me. Are they made out of a free mind? There are regulations to follow, laws and rules you should abide to. There are forms of mannerism and other f*cking ideas of how you should act, react and take action while choices are made. I guess I never was much of a, think first and choose thereafter, kind of person.

“Most people regard having choices as a good thing, though a severely limited or artificially restricted choice can lead to discomfort with choosing and possibly, an unsatisfactory outcome. In contrast, unlimited choice may lead to confusion, regret of the alternatives not taken, and indifference in an unstructured existence; and the illusion that choosing an object or a course leads necessarily to control of that object or course can cause psychological problems.”

The feeling is ascending from the depths towards the surface. Scratching on the insides. Sometimes almost like the soaring blaze of a white flame that blinds every other rational thought.. So all that is left is pure rage. Blood lust in it’s pre-mature form.

No, i’m not angry at the moment. But there are times when I do carry explosives inside my jacket, ready to hit the red button and unleash an unknown fury. I reckon we all have it. But like me, we find ways to disarm and hide it. Hide it from others and especially from ourselves. Eventually though, hidden things tend to step forward and unveil their masks of truth.

“I’m gonna break into your house and then I’ll kill your dog and set the house on fire..  Then I’ll dance through your garden naked like some mad, crazed werewolf. I’ll bite and I’ll mangle and I’ll tear the tongue out of everything that’s breathing.
Then I’ll hurl myself into the sky, the ethereal sky, flaming, like God’s darkest angel.. And I’ll explode into a goddamn heavenly fireball. Boom.”

One second later - I am back.

As if awakening from a dream. A great dream. But real choices has been made and memories has been created. At least that is the reality I wish to create.

A little more than a week in and I once more get the feeling of being accustomed to the landscape that stands before me. Altough this time, we were greeted by the long awaited warmth that the afghan spring ought to bring. Our activities are somewhat halted by the freedom fighters of America, who tends to cast religious and holy books into the fires of hell, just to watch the flames come chasing them, haunting them, afterwards. My last patrol started in the middle of the night – When the order fell, we started out making all the arrangements beforehand. I double-checked my gear, atuned my nightvision goggles, checked the radio transmitter and visualized how I would act if a critical event would occur. After that I closed my eyes for what seemed like seconds before the alarm clocks rang once more, it was a “Go”…

OpSec is a word of common use where I delve. The word itself gives me a “No Go” on describing things that tend to happen. Still, here on this blog and on this particular webpage on the world wide web, I am the master. The Sith Lord of this domain. I make the rules. So in the end we have “acedia“, as part of one of the seven sins, a word that actually describe something (or anything.. Or maybe everything). Or maybe it’s just that I’ve been awake for about 36 hours and counting while this peace of art is being written.

I have to admit that the feeling of having no food in my stomach, the feeling of being totally exhausted and tired combined with having every muscle in your body screaming for rest.. That is why I love this job. That feeling is priceless. The feeling of being alive. Funny thing is, once you skip the regular sleep just once the world transforms before you; And your perception of it tends to get really screwed up. Or maybe it’s just a change? A transformation just like anything else? We are just to blind to see it…

This is Lance Corporal Fresh, Out.

Meditation is derived from the Latin meditatio, from a verb meditari, meaning "to think, contemplate, devise, ponder, meditate"

[M]editation refers to a family of self-regulation practices that focus on training attention and awareness in order to bring mental processes under greater voluntary control and thereby foster general mental well-being and development and/or specific capacities such as calm, clarity, and concentration