Deo Volente

Time and times again I get disappointed. Is it in myself? Or is it towards the organisation I have vowed to follow?
Several times it happens. I momentarily lose faith in my promises to the world, again and again. Nothing is feels constant. Change is the only constant.

I look around and see the faces of my self-proclaimed brothers in arms. Am I one of these guys?
Dominated by lust, vanity and pride. They all made it to this point either with mere luck or by pure show-off. I cannot see my self identified. I am the loose link in the chain. I am on the outside looking inside. Or is it the way around?
One thing is certain: The way is not peaceful. Nor is it chaotic. It’s an irritating piece of gray goo. Feelings undeniably being pushed away by strange thoughts of blind contentment and future feelings of peace and ancient greatness. Often replaced to stand in the shadowy corner away from the spotlight, witnessing the other one taking the stage to recieve applause and tainted glory.
The old ones would see us as the wolf pack who followed the most beautiful angel God ever created, a.k.a. the bearer of light, earning our fate as hellhounds of an illusionary reality.
In the end though, we are all caged animals..

Enough of self despite and dellusional lies.
Time continue to show it’s inevitable control of our lives and grants me a feeling of pleasure when thinking of the not-so-far “leave”. Meanwhile we still conduct operations that stretches outside our previous jurisdiction. Giving high ranked officers the creeps, now used his big salary and to the warmth, calm and security that the chair at the computer desk has to offer.
Scouring across the Afghan fields and leaving a shoemark on their very doorstep, they shall know that we are not the ones that are hunted. We are the hunters. Our heritage and ranger brand tell it literally in our own native language.

Reconnaissance missions has been prioritized, giving us the details we need. Different village elders tells us the stories. Stories of how they come in the night, the ones without faces, and pray on their already poor resources. Stories of how they attack and slaughter other fellow human beings under a time of prayer, showing no religious respect. Other stories of how they come and take young men away from their families, never to be heard from again. They call them “not human”. Their shield is culture and religion. Their tools of trade is fear and lies.
Which reminds me of a saying that one of my comrades recited:

“Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total oblitiration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past me, I will turn to see fear’s path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

The words speak and burry themselves in the grounds as unshaken foundations.

I’m sure that’s what they would want me to say…
In any case, I don’t really give a damn anymore. Just give me what I want (?) and send me back, or even further if that is your wish, my Lord. Insha’Allah.

I love this life. I will see you soon, my love.

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