There's this main guy with the nervous and scared look on his face. He's holding this rifle and charging on the sands with oversized spikes all over the beach. Explosions occurring everywhere and little debris hitting people. Sounds of gunshots, cannons fired, people screaming in pain and shouting commands all mixed into a soundtrack of imminent death. The injury count is rising, slowly followed by the death count.
This soldier didn't ask to be here. He was forced into it by his country and they expect him to die in battle with honour. That's after he made a few kills...Well, if you have to die, why not take down a few enemies with you? It's more satisfying, I guess.
I feel like this poor, poor dude, you know? So much bad things popping out like bunnies in holes and you're slowly losing hope in the battle you're fighting. I didn't ask to be in this situation, it was given to me. And every time I try to carry on to the next stage, I feel like my responsibilities get heavier.
Life is almost like a game, if you will. Maybe I'm approaching this the Scott-Pilgrim way...It's like I have reached the castle and you know what? That damned maiden tells me that the Princess is in another castle and you have to fight even more difficult foes in the next level...Mind you, I never even completed Super Mario before. =/
You know what's the thing that keeps me going fighting these battles? It's Love...and I ain't feeling the Love.
Can someone (I'm really asking this to my loyal and arguably fervent readers) please, please fill my mug with Love.
I am seriously in need of hugs.
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