queasy
It's the much hated BMTC passing out parade yet again. Everything about BMT sucks, I can't think of one reason that doesn't make it suck. It's existence in itself is wrong. BMT is only the beginning of 2 years of shit to come, sucks. It in itself is filled, and I mean to the brim, with phoney assholes trying way too hard to stand out, sucks. I'll help you there, remember that fork you use when you have your meals, stab yourself. A million times. The best justification of how much BMT sucks is the passing out parade itself. The only reason everyone is so glad about it is that they can leave that shit hole, most of them have no idea what they got themselves into, more shit.
The parade is a show, a very bad, very phony one at that. Imagine a whole bunch of guys wearing helmets, really thick uniformm, a really ugly green vest with lots of pockets filled with nothing(SBO), and holding a rifle being herded, yes HERDED like cattle, into an open space known also as the parade square, it's rectangular, all this while sweating like there's no tomorrow and stinking up the air. Yes I know I was one of them, I only felt like shit then but now I know I stank too. If I was there at my POP, watching, I'd hate myself too.
If there was anything more ridiculous than wearing all that fuck shit and standing in the damn sun in the middle of the day, it's that "dance" just before they toss their caps, moments after it was put on, and then picking it up again almost immediately. 3 months of training and what's presented is a well choreographed, syncopated, dance of sorts with well penned lyrics in a foreign tongue sung by substandard vocals. Or so that's what I thought. It was not supposed to be syncopated, and it most definitely wasn't in a foreign tongue. It's simply a mix of hideous enunciation by psychomotor reluctant people forced into pretending to be enjoying themselves. Thank god I didn't have to do that, I'd kill myself. It would've been a milestone in my entire existence, the new low, the stupidest moment in my life, one which I'll block out of my memory and if I had the power to undo one thing after death, I'd rather undo that over my death.
Not to forget that queasy feeling you get when taking the not very fast fast craft there. I still feel nausea, like I'm being thrown about in the back of Ben's car at that vomit inducing double bend downhill. To think that I'll have to go through all that again tomorrow for a bunch of people I don't know is simply fucked up. What's worst is that I'm paid the same as someone that spends the entire day in the office doing "work". Pui.
The parade is a show, a very bad, very phony one at that. Imagine a whole bunch of guys wearing helmets, really thick uniformm, a really ugly green vest with lots of pockets filled with nothing(SBO), and holding a rifle being herded, yes HERDED like cattle, into an open space known also as the parade square, it's rectangular, all this while sweating like there's no tomorrow and stinking up the air. Yes I know I was one of them, I only felt like shit then but now I know I stank too. If I was there at my POP, watching, I'd hate myself too.
If there was anything more ridiculous than wearing all that fuck shit and standing in the damn sun in the middle of the day, it's that "dance" just before they toss their caps, moments after it was put on, and then picking it up again almost immediately. 3 months of training and what's presented is a well choreographed, syncopated, dance of sorts with well penned lyrics in a foreign tongue sung by substandard vocals. Or so that's what I thought. It was not supposed to be syncopated, and it most definitely wasn't in a foreign tongue. It's simply a mix of hideous enunciation by psychomotor reluctant people forced into pretending to be enjoying themselves. Thank god I didn't have to do that, I'd kill myself. It would've been a milestone in my entire existence, the new low, the stupidest moment in my life, one which I'll block out of my memory and if I had the power to undo one thing after death, I'd rather undo that over my death.
Not to forget that queasy feeling you get when taking the not very fast fast craft there. I still feel nausea, like I'm being thrown about in the back of Ben's car at that vomit inducing double bend downhill. To think that I'll have to go through all that again tomorrow for a bunch of people I don't know is simply fucked up. What's worst is that I'm paid the same as someone that spends the entire day in the office doing "work". Pui.
BY Neo :: 8:53 PM
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