Losing this job reveals more than it takes away, and I think that has been the recurring theme for me across my career.

Anyways, the skies are hard to trust these days, and as I was gearing up for one of the only weekends I’d have open for the next couple, they were spelling some heavy doom. Plan was to get off early on Friday, hit it hard, then take Sat and Sun to finish (I didn’t. Spoiler.).

My trust engine is off track. My trust is set somewhere else rather than where it should be. That trust is pulling all of my hope, emotions, reflections, decisions, and reactions along with it towards wherever this train is heading. I’m a hopeless dude. That makes me not a good man.

This weekend I called my dad to talk to him about some things that have been bothering me in our relationship. I expected defense. I expected to be told I was wrong, that I was seeing things incorrectly. I expected to feel silly for even bringing it up.

Instead, I was met with grace and a proactive plan on how we’d move forward.

War is terrible. It’s not a good thing. Killing the enemy is not something to wish on anyone, and to be in those moments is to illicit some deep form of carnal masculinity not fit for 99.9% of the public sphere… but it’s 100% necessary. Why? Because:

Pure evil exists.

And if pure evil exists, it’s worth killing.

There’s a few reflections here that I’ve been marinating on since finishing Lone Survivor: