Fatigue: The Friendship You Just Can't Sever

Over the past five months I have befriended fatigue in all of its forms. Actually, fatigue befriended me against my will and despite the many naps and small comas I have had in attempt to rid myself of this friend I have been unable to do so. 

In my relationship with fatigue up to this point I have found like other friends he has different sides to him. He's more like a two headed hydra, where both sides can be nasty.  I truly feel that there are two types of fatigue. 

The first being just tired from not enough sleep. Many of my peers at work and at school complain of this fatigue. They stayed up until midnight or 1am watching Letterman or doing homework and had to get up at 7am so they are only operating on a few select hours of sleep. There is no doubt that this type of fatigue can be wearing.

Alas, I have experienced a new type of fatigue that I have never undergone before in my life and only a select few others have too. There is a fatigue where your body genuinely does not know what it wants to do. You wake up at 3pm on Sunday afternoon and go into work for 7pm. You are up all night at work until you go into school the next morning for 815. Class 815-200pm, you have class at 530pm so you don't take a nap because 1)you won't wake up for class @530 2)your body says it is time to be up. You go to class @530 get out at 1030 and can't fall asleep because this is when you go to work so your body says "stay up." You know you have reached this state of fatigue when your eyes start to pulse inside of your head and you become aware of the frontal lobe of your brain (it doesn't hurt or ache you just know it's there) and the accessory muscles in your upper back (around the scapulas) tighten up to keep your posture and keep you upright. Meanwhile you look in the mirror and ask yourself "What are you doing?!" 

Find Your Place

Whoever has read this blog in the past (or knows how I am with my academics) knows how frustrated I get with school. I don't like school, looking back I never really have. 

So I bombed a chemistry quiz today. I felt really positive going into it as I do almost everything lately and feel negative coming out of it. What frustrates me is that I don't know how to give anymore of my intellect, focus or discipline to my studies than what I am giving right now. Meanwhile, my grades are not equating to what my knowledge of the subject is. Maybe I am a poor test taker, maybe just a poor test taker in certain subjects, maybe just poor in certain subjects. Regardless, I thought that there was this universal truth that what you give is what you get but whenever I ask myself "Are you doing the best you can?/ are you giving all that you have?" my answer to myself is "Yes." Why aren't my efforts showing.

People tell me "Oh well as long as you did your best that's all that matters." Part of me wants to agree but the more realistic part of me disagrees. Colleges don't give a shit about how hard you tried because all they can see is the grade. Not doing well in chemistry is not the end of the world but it is the means to the end of a dream. 

Furthermore, I was reflecting on what I can do to get better test scores. Change up my strategy. Walking to my car I sorted it out in that maybe the lesson I am to learn from this is that you don't get what you give but that it is about finding your place in life. Everyone is smart, smart is just finding out how you learn, where your place is in the various learning styles, harnessing that style and learning. The same parallel goes with finding ones place in taking a test, you can not be overconfident because that spells doom while ill confidence will psych you out. You have to find your place, your median where you can show that you are knowledgeable and capable. 

my faith right now

And the company you keep

that you are so devoted to

And the lack of sleep

that has so demoted you

You hope it will come since you want it bad enough

And your church that feels

more like a theater or marketplace

And you want to yield

to Jesus - become one of faith

but some of his story is not sad enough

And the thanksgiving

you were around for but you missed

And these trials of living

that don't go with what you wished

some say "that's how the Lord has planned it"

And the nights you're awake

trying so hard not to keep still

And the plans that you make

Are really of your own free will

or does some one have their hand in it?

And by the time you're ready

that you render your false alarm

And you know its petty

to think His love would come with harm

but that's been your experience with love

And you look out on creation

wishing science to disprove the lore

And as the earth ushers elation

you hope that there's something more

Is that just pressure from above?

And they say for your protection

you must get on his list

And despite your objections

you don't want to resist

Will this day of reckoning come?

And how do you alleve

such pressure on your chest

If you choose to believe

will you be a hypocrite like the rest

or is that how His beckoning is done?

And are they hypocrites

or is just that hard

And to live in the ways of Jesus

since that's not who we are

Are you rewarded for trying?

And when the meaning of sin

is more defined by place and year

And you don't want to believe in

or out of fear

Many are just afraid of dying.

And you don't fear hell

while others look to ensure their fate

And as if under a spell

His love they distort to hate

You've seen firsthand how this tears apart

And you don't know anymore

than the man of faith in life

Truth is that you both search for

how to achieve grace in life

and in heart

He's here with me

Usually the united states military would not permit for its members to watch movies, tv episodes or listen to music online. However it understands that boredom can attack its base worse than any insurgent and can detonate the troops morale. So it created a morale server with over 200+ movies and a huge music database to give a soundtrack to our deployment -

Getting to the point, searching through the movie listing they had an 1.5 long X-Men cartoon movie that was totally riveting. Then...

I saw him, he was standing there with his back to me, black hat, black suit, hands folding around his back, and I knew who it was before I read the album name. Van Morrison's Back on Top. I have traveled to the other side of the world and his music followed me. It will, and is currently augmenting my state of consciousness about my surroundings like only his music can. I smile and think "He's here with me." But I always knew he would be.

"Are you in Iraq, yes or no?"

I just blew my nose and the narliest looking black stuff came out of it. Sand, dust. They say it happens. You don't even want to see my stridex pads.

I called my Mom today and got the answering machine which may have been a good thing. I remember the first time I heard her voice on the phone in basic training my eyes came to tears. When we parted ways after basic training it was hard to. I said to myself "I'm not gonna see my Mom or be home for a while." I am pretty sure that if I had talked to her I would have remained collected in front of my peers(since morale calls lack privacy and are in front of everyone) but later on in the solice of my room a deep reflection would have occured.

My father's wife answered the phone when I called him. He was happy to hear my voice. First words of the conversation were "Are you in Iraq, yes or no?" knowing that I could not give out my exact location. I explained to him that I was in Qatar, safe and sound. He then asked how my living arrangements were, told him I was living in a trailer split into rooms, and that I had AC. Yesterday it was 114 in the village on base with 125 degree heat on the tarmac. The urgency in my fathers voice in his first initial question was unlike any tone I had ever heard from him. Not saying that he does not care about me or that he has never shown such behaivor but it seems that some people can attempt to portray caring in moments of unification and fail yet it is when they are split by an earth that genuine compassion is seen.

Things that will be able to get me through - Salsa dancing classes at the gym @2100 immediately followed by a cycling class @2200.

My Mailing Address

A1C Maxswell Hackett
379 EOSS /WA
APO AE 09309

8 Hours Ahead of Home

I've come through - I have made it to Qatar. Through perseverance and politics I have swindled my way into getting blogger.com allowed on a government network. With this blog posts will hopefully be more frequent than as of late.

Local time is 0038, eight hours ahead of EST, with the thermometer reading 97 F coinciding with 59% humidity. Needless to say it is hot and desolate. The sand and rock is more white than what I once knew as sand. My eyes feel as if they are staring directly into the sun all the time.

As a child I allowed the sun to bleach my hair and dry my wet body after swimming in the pool. In the winter months the sun would warm me while on the chair lift at the ski resort. Here the sun plays the role of diminisher. We were briefed that when we go out the sun will kill us of heat stroke before the scorpians, camel spiders or rodents(all disease ridden) will. The day wears on my eyes like a yard tool would one's bare hand.

Although I can not talk about what I'm doing here I will say it is very worthwhile. For the first time since hurricane Katrina, maybe even basic training, it is as if we are in the middle of the mission. We know why we are here and are working directly in line with the war effort.

Goals are everywhere to obtain, I may be able to take school and or CLEPS while I am here. Lots of opportunities to exercise so I can be a powerhouse on the bike when I get back to California.

Closing remarks,

I am safe, out of harms way.
My flight was long but good. Germany, Switzerland and Italy from 30,000+ is beautiful.
The island of Crete is an ugly rock but Chania is a cool town, good lamb.
It is hot.
I am not able to view my blog so I will be unable to view any comments left by readers.
Email me at maxxhackett@hotmail.com, I will get to it when I can.
I love you all and you get me through the day.

Santa Cruz Surf Trip _ 1

Surf Wax America

This song has been my anthem for the past two weeks and hopefully this weekend I will share in River Cuomo's jubilation -

The sea is foamin' like a bottle of beer.
The wave is comin' but I ain't got no fear.
I'm waxin' down so that I'll go real fast.
I'm waxin' down because it's really a blast.
I'm goin' surfin' cuz I don't like your face.
I'm bailin' out because I hate the race
Of rats that run, round and round, in a maze.
I'm goin' surfin', I'm goin' surfin'.

You take your car to work. I'll take my board.
And when your out of fuel, I'm still afloat.

My buddies and their honeys all come along.
They seem invincible as they surf along.
The sea is rollin' like a thousand pound keg.
We're goin' surfin', we're goin' surfin.

You take your car to work. I'll take my board.
And when your out of fuel, I'm still afloat.

All along the undertow is strengthening its hold.
I never thought it'd come to this.
Now, I can never go home

You take your car to work.
I'll take my board. (All along the undertow is strengthening its hold.)
And when your out of fuel, I'm still afloat.
(I never thought it'd come to this. Now, I can never go home)

You take your car. I'll take my board.

Let's go!

Wish me luck in Santa Cruz!

Five Friends to a Hand

After hurricane Katrina I had to say good bye to Gall, Strobel, Price and others that I had known since basic training and the beginning of tech school. These men had become closer than my own brothers and better comrades than I had ever had before. But as they were to be evacuated and I stayed behind our journey together came to an adrupt halt. Some of the friendships would erode away over time like the Mississippi shoreline had during the storm. But it seems in our lives, especially the military life, our relationships are shortlived yet engrave us with experience and quench our thirsts whatever they may be.

My bestfriend here at Beale, Cheryl, has recently left for a middle east deployment. Due to my own scheduled deployment we will not see each other for 7 months. Of course there is email, letters and other forms of communication. I am going through withdrawals. Although she and I will just pick up where we left off when we meet up in December it is hard to not hate the interim period.

Other cultures drawf us for the short life spans of many of our relationships through our lives. Countries in the middle east and asia pride themselves with few relationship but life long relationships. Their countersign against the western saying "you can never have too many friends" is "you should have no more friends in you life than that which you can count on one hand. Focus on those few." At times I can not help but agree with them.

Cool Hand Luke

Netflix has afforded me the benefit of watching movies that I have always wanted to see but never got around to it. John Cusack says in the movie Serendipity that his charactor's favorite film in "Cool Hand Luke" starring Paul Newman. I of course had to venture to see it for myself...

Cool Hand Luke and Maxx Hackett are one and the same. Both seem to have ample intelligence but not enough to match their amount of daring(guts) that they seem to ride life on. We respect authority but understand its flaws and try to run from it yet always ending up back under it's thumb. Most importantly our relationship with God is the same. Luke doesn't believe in other's concept of God but knows he's there. In the climax of the movie Luke escapes the prison camp to make it to a church where he presents his case to God. All Luke asks for is a sign of from God, letting him now he's around. When no answer stirs he walks out to the authorities with the classic line "What we have hear is a failure to communicate." He is shot dead with a smile on his face. When I am out in the wilderness on my bike or driving in my car with the music blaring at sunset it is the time where I feel like communication is at it's best yet I am only told the least.

Decieved

She used me. No way around it. She wanted to make her ex boyfriend jealous. She showed me attention and I fell for it. Desperation combined with acting on the wrong impulses. After dropping her off and getting a nice good bye kiss, she called her ex boyfriend and told him how she and I had just hung out. More to the story, more to come.

I feel like the hoodlum involved with the crime syndicate. Except for that instead of taking the money and running I am shot and left for dead. If I were to be found than I would be the victim and the perpetrator and still go to jail.

A Spring California Scene

Let's paint a picture....

The beauty, the jockey,
in her british racing green
Tended to her horses
in the spring California scene

It would have been cold
if she wasn't holding me so close
but my insides were engulfed
with a capture of her pose

She led me through the stables
Up into the hay
Full moon above, my will was strong
but I kissed her anyway

the Historian & the Oracle

Music is spiritual to me. To me it is the form of human expression. I find religion to be a form of human expression but not a means in which to seek certain truths. Both preach to do onto others as you would have others done onto you, to love each other and so on. Where the two differ in my eyes is that music regardless of language, tempo, or progression does not attempt to set certain truths about life in our universe. Music simaltaneously plays the role of historian and oracle for the human race. It records our feelings in moments of duress and elation and can sometimes encompass them together in a single expression. Like its creators it is perpetual in its evolution, never stopping. For me religion sets its truths about the universe due to its on insecurities and thirst for power. Music for most of us, either consciously or subconsciously is a statement saying that even though we don't have the answers to certain questions it is the uncertainty of our existance that makes it worth living.

Thanks Van.

Sierra, Sierra

I hate math - it makes me feel inferior, maybe because at times I am.

My only solice is the sierra wilderness.

Out of contact with certain women in my life

Some women have appeared to have fallen off the face of the earth.
a.k.a Karen Lewis
Others have not dissappeared, they are simply not talking to me.
a.ka. Kelly Miller
Ray Lamontagne says it best -

Trouble...
Trouble been doggin' my soul since the day I was born
Worry...
Worry just will not seem to leave my mind alone
We'll I've been...
saved by a woman

Trouble...
Feels like every time I get back on my feet
she come around and knock me down again

Women, call me up if you wish,

You know who you are, 

207-577-8510

Lent

Some people give up eating meat, others perhaps watching tv, some maybe even sex if they are really disciplined. However can someone give up someone else for lent? Because I think the former catholic school girl currently in my life has given me up for lent.

I Need You Now...but I am not totallly overdramatic

Early in the round
Blows I just did not expect
By the end of the day
I had nothing left to protect
Boxers entered my ring
Working the cut on my brow
This time prompts me to realize
I need you now

High noon had come
I had no where to run
Towns folk abandoned me
with no rounds left in my gun
Other days I was a quick draw
This day left such actions to not allow
This time prompts me to realize
I need you now

Like any sailor before me
I tried to navigate the strait
but the waters didn't adore me
I was left in the storm to wait
out the violence the wind can bring
in your world of stern to bow
This time prompts me to realize
I need you now

In the walks of life
today, that came forth
It feels as if,
I don't have any worth
We search for the illusion,
closure, somehow
This time prompts me to realize
I need you now

New Listening

Picked these up from BMG music online. They are essentials to the library.

Atypical MySpace Whore

He was somewhat fluent
Quite congruent in methods of pursuance
Yet you've never known his touch
The thought is that he's someone else
The stimulus to touch yourself
And you treat him as such

He retells the tragedies
symphonies to remedies
You have a faint recollection of voice
He'll smile at you on the street
Shun him away in discrete
All the while keeping your poise

You'll think he's a ghost
While at the most he writes a post
Like any other myspace whore
He'll review his message queue
Imagining the rendevue
where he'll verify-
you're real for sure