Just yesterday, I chanced upon a swing in the still of the night, and I lifted off closing my eyes trying to relieve the same moment I felt as a kid. I felt accomplished even when the feeling’s gone; its as if I finally manage to put a full stop and bury this treasured memory.

I guess that’s why they call me a dreamer.

Whatever’s with the nostalgia then, life goes on for the soldier..

Even on rainy days, when you’re sleeping outside the canopy of the forest shivering and hugging your rifle and pecking the hand guard every time you snooze. Then having breakfast in the early morning drizzle with the rifle wrapped around your torso.

Romantic.