I was handed my machine gun today in a column of others there for the same reason.

We spent the entirety of the pay hours relearning its functions. My fingers are sour with iron and pot metal.

A lot went down in my mind watching my muscles and bones from my shoulders down open close and contort around the machine and its counterparts and it's bullets that may sear and burn the muscles and bones of another man so that he will not enjoy a rest and a hot meal that night.

These officials and creators have composed an appearance of idolatry of which I am a subsequent functioning individual by contract. My body may be gutted like a fish by reason of this contract.

Everything else I have learned as a young adult have become trivial memories compared to thoughts of these things.

I have to tailor the suit we are all given as men, day by day.