Here I sit, awaiting the moments where I will probably endure the most tremendous physical pressure I've ever seen, undergo excruciating emotional strain, and find myself (GOD WILLING!) starring brokenness in the face. In but a few hours more I will have lost my name... they will not call out in joy "TC!" they will not utter in concern "TC?" they will but, through groans of pained exhaustion, shout "311!"
My name, is 311.
I have no rank, but I am 311, I am a member of the 6th Platoon of Massachusettes, and will for the next (apparently indeterminate) few days be tried by the most intense role play I've yet seen.
I have no name, I have given up the things that made me noticed, I have no piercings, I have shaved my head, I will be standing in the trenches as a nameless, faceless, number to possibly remove this illusion of individual entitlement that the American society has instilled.
I stand there, though, not merely being tested, but I have challenged them to BRING IT!
I have asked my company leaders, my coaches, my Captin, my General, my facilitators to push me harder!
This is going to break me.
It has to break me!
If I can walk away from this, the same, without any change, then I have proven to myself now irrevocably, that I am fully self-sufficient! Fully Self-capable! that no challenge can face me that I am unable to solely overcome alone.
This will be the greatest tragedy in my life to date.
To know how pathetic I am and yet find nothing that can undermine me.
So I Bring it!
I willingly choose to abandon my identity, my name, my features, to assimilate unto this illusion of self, the face I have not known, the voice I have not heard, the eyes I dared not look in.
I willingly now step out to die to self, to meet my silhoette and perhaps heal this voided disconnect.
But for now, these minutes, these grand and glorious minutes I wait, in the calm before the storm, anticipating the life change, envisioning the turmoil, psyching up for the strains. These minutes, these great and wonderful minutes I continue now, to serve, to extend the call in voice to many "WILL YOU GO?!"
Shortly, I will stand before the alter and find my heart in disrepair, desperate and weakened.
Then, in that moment, I will be called to arms, and I will step out, leaving behind a false sense of self, and stepping into what may prove to be, the birthday I never had.
Dream as I may, feeling slightly torn,
but as for now,
I wait...
In the calm before the storm
My name, is 311.
I have no rank, but I am 311, I am a member of the 6th Platoon of Massachusettes, and will for the next (apparently indeterminate) few days be tried by the most intense role play I've yet seen.
I have no name, I have given up the things that made me noticed, I have no piercings, I have shaved my head, I will be standing in the trenches as a nameless, faceless, number to possibly remove this illusion of individual entitlement that the American society has instilled.
I stand there, though, not merely being tested, but I have challenged them to BRING IT!
I have asked my company leaders, my coaches, my Captin, my General, my facilitators to push me harder!
This is going to break me.
It has to break me!
If I can walk away from this, the same, without any change, then I have proven to myself now irrevocably, that I am fully self-sufficient! Fully Self-capable! that no challenge can face me that I am unable to solely overcome alone.
This will be the greatest tragedy in my life to date.
To know how pathetic I am and yet find nothing that can undermine me.
So I Bring it!
I willingly choose to abandon my identity, my name, my features, to assimilate unto this illusion of self, the face I have not known, the voice I have not heard, the eyes I dared not look in.
I willingly now step out to die to self, to meet my silhoette and perhaps heal this voided disconnect.
But for now, these minutes, these grand and glorious minutes I wait, in the calm before the storm, anticipating the life change, envisioning the turmoil, psyching up for the strains. These minutes, these great and wonderful minutes I continue now, to serve, to extend the call in voice to many "WILL YOU GO?!"
Shortly, I will stand before the alter and find my heart in disrepair, desperate and weakened.
Then, in that moment, I will be called to arms, and I will step out, leaving behind a false sense of self, and stepping into what may prove to be, the birthday I never had.
Dream as I may, feeling slightly torn,
but as for now,
I wait...
In the calm before the storm
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