Shamelessly inspired by the opening lines of "The Angriest Angel"
I don't give a damn for destiny. Anyone worth shit will take responsibility for asking themselves, and then answering, Who am I, and, What's the point?
My name is Paul Kelly. But I know nothing of who I am. The answer, I feel, is out there. The defining, perhaps final, moment, is crawling closer. Everyone, everyone, in this life knows when the moment is before them. To turn away is simple. To ignore it assures survival. But it is an insult to life, because there can be no redemption, no second chance. Beyond death there's nothing. Just darkness. And cold.
The instant those towers collapsed, every action, every breath of my life, became horrifyingly clear. They're out there tonight, planning the best ways to send our women, our men, to that cold, dark place. And nothing, nothing, will stop them, unless people like me face the moment.
Furlough brought the eternal question of the cadet, "Why the fuck do I put myself through this?" to the forefront. That's why.
For 4 years now, my future has been dominated by the goal of leading America's finest warriors against those who would harm my countrymen... of meting out annihilation while risking the same.
I cannot believe that four years in a drunken haze in a soft environment can possibly prepare me for that... So I took the road less traveled.
But damn if that soft road ain't tempting...
15 days and a wakeup, and I'll find myself back in Philly, knocking back a few while crashing at Villanova-- impersonating a "Civvie college shitbag"... | 
depressed 
